Page 42 of And Twice as Twisted (Agostino Crime Family #4)

SIENNA AGOSTINO

I didn’t think any of us were prepared for the shitstorm that became my sister’s rescue mission.

It shattered the family in so many ways.

I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t even begin to tell you the details that would give her story the justice it deserved.

As the saying went, it was her story to tell and I wanted no parts of it.

I had my own messes to clean up after all.

But life with Apollo—after everything we endured together, far more than what was painted between these pages—was picture perfect.

My own version of it. A twisted fairy tale.

But it had to be that way . Do you really think if it were easy, I’d still be here?

I was a glutton for punishment (still am) and there was no other way for me. For us.

Apollo grew into his own version of fatherhood.

His natural inquisitive nature had him studying his son like a puzzle he was trying to decipher and the two were peas in a pod.

I went from Sal’s favorite to nothing more than a backup to his dad.

And his father, well, Apollo was still an asshole.

It didn’t matter what it was about, we fought tooth and nail.

Just because we’d finally gotten to a place of understanding didn’t mean things were all unicorns and glitter.

I was still peeling dried blood from his skin, laundering Brioni suits covered in entrails, and stitching him up on a regular.

We’d fight the entire time and then we’d make amends between the sheets, too sated to continue the argument by the time we were done.

Then I’d piss him off all over again the next day.

It was a vicious circle. And I was not too proud to admit that sometimes I’d do it just to watch him lose control. It was so goddamn hot.

But we were figuring out this parenting thing together.

Apollo was very hands-on with Sal, seemingly methodical in the way he approached our son.

I knew, without a doubt, that he’d lay his life down for either of us.

And it was almost sweet to watch the way he smirked when he taught Sal something new.

The kid was far too big and growing more each day, while his vocabulary was that of a middle-aged man and nothing like that of a toddler.

Again, his father’s son.

Then there was the sex. I didn’t need a four-letter word to finally understand how Apollo felt about me.

No one could touch or even look at me wrong without being on the receiving end of his glare.

Was it healthy? Hell no, we were off-the-charts toxic, but it worked for us.

We fought, he stormed out to help my brother step into his new role, and then he would come back home to me after.

His silence was all I needed as he pulled me close and held me tight.

I loved this man and I loved how much he cared for our son.

In the beginning, I’d told him all I needed was him.

Apollo would never change. It wasn’t in his nature.

But no one knew him like I did. And in his own way, he knew me better than I knew myself too.

At least parts of me. He was the monster who’d moved out from under my bed and into it, while he liked to call me his angel, claiming he’d clipped my wings to prevent me from leaving him again.