Page 41 of Bittersweet Endings (Agostino Crime Family #6)

OCTAVIA RAGETTI

I f you thought our love story was easy, you were fucking wrong. There was no softness in how we started. No sweet romance, no slow-burn tension that built into something tender. Ours was twisted from the beginning, tangled up in violence, obsession, and blood.

So much blood.

And that blood didn’t end when Carmine put a knife through his father’s throat. It didn’t stop staining our world when he took his rightful place as Capo of the California famiglia . It followed us. It lingered in the air we breathed; it clung to our skin.

Power shifts to introduce a new Capo were never clean, never easy.

There was always someone lurking in the dark, waiting for their moment to take you out.

And for a while, it seemed like everyone was fine with Carmine’s coup.

Hell, some of them celebrated it. They lifted their glasses and swore their allegiance like good little soldiers.

But loyalty was fickle. It frayed at the edges and unraveled when power was challenged by the masses. Some of the men who’d once backed Carmine started whispering their discontent. Not about him, per se. About me. About my family. About the alliance with New York.

New York and California had been enemies for so long; the blood between them permanently darkened the streets red. And that was something not a lot of people would forget.

Some thought Carmine had made the right call by aligning with my father, with Lucky. Others? They saw it as a betrayal. And betrayal bred war.

Things started to calm when my father officially handed the reins over to Lucky, cementing a new order. But calm didn’t mean we had peace. It just meant we had control over the chaos.

And through it all, Carmine was good to me. Almost too good. So good that sometimes, I thought I’d wake up back in that freezing room where it all started. Chained to the floor, my body bruised and trembling. My mind lost to itself, not knowing what to feel or how to process the situation.

But I wasn’t locked away anymore. I wasn’t fighting against him. Now, I stood beside him. Just as ruthless. Just as unhinged. And the world had no fucking idea what was coming next.

I’d taken a page out of my mother’s book and immersed myself in California’s culture. Politics. Money. Donations. All of it.

Carmine was now stepping away from his father’s twisted shadow, and we were garnering respect from civilians. The order had been restored.

“Enzo!” I screamed across the beach. “I said no!”

My darling son was seven going on twenty-five. He was so lucky he was cute and could charm me like his father. Because he was a damn nightmare. He didn’t listen to anyone, got in trouble all the time, and had this wild streak we couldn’t control.

We named him Enzo since Lorenzo was the one who’d delivered him.

Don’t ask. The short of it, Lorenzo was protecting me, Carmine wasn’t answering, and I was pretty stubborn.

I would’ve died if it weren’t for my brother-in-law.

And thankfully, all those gross pregnancy facts he’d learned came to good use.

“Rory!” Enzo screamed, and I glanced behind me.

Carmine was walking down the beach with our five-year-old daughter in his arms. Enzo loved to be wild, but he loved his sister more. And Aurora? She loved her father more than anyone.

It hurt. To be honest.

I guess I was predisposed to want to dress her up like my own little doll. And God didn’t want me to put my trauma on my daughter. So, nothing appeased her like her father. The little brat looked just like me at her age, but she only had eyes for Carmine. And getting into mischief with her brother.

Carmine sat on the blanket next to me, setting Aurora on her feet before she ran to her brother. I rolled my eyes as she glanced back to make sure her father wasn’t leaving her.

“How are they?” Carmine asked, leaning over me to look at the twins.

“Fat, fed, and happy.” Our sons had almost killed me, at almost six pounds each.

They were good babies unlike their siblings.

They wanted to eat, burp, and go back to sleep.

Hardly a fuss came from them once they latched on to a tit and passed out.

Thankfully, we were long past the nursing stage.

But they were going to be huge. Like Lorenzo huge.

Just shy of two, they were already taller and wider than Enzo.

Nio. Gio. We got real original. They were shortened Italian names, but we decided we didn’t care.

“And how is my baby ?” Carmine asked, and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m good, thanks.”

He smirked .

“She’s fine.” I leaned back, so that he could see Gabriella cradled in my arms.

She was what you’d call an Irish twin—less than a year younger than her brothers. It was hard to tell Carmine no. And, well, the man had killer sperm.

“And my little doll, what do you need?”

“You know what I need.”

My husband kissed me and I moaned around it.

“Where’s the nanny?”

Carmine chuckled. “If only we had one. But someone didn’t want a stranger raising her babies.”

“Listen, if my mother could do it alone, then I can…” I passed Gabriella over to her father and got to my feet. “Enzo! What! Did I! Say?” I stormed towards the water, charging into the waves to grab my son.

“Ma!” he wailed, trying to get loose.

“Don’t Ma me. I told you: If Uncle L isn’t down here, you don’t go in!”

Turning quickly, I grabbed Aurora before she could follow her brother. I had no idea how my mother did this alone. These kids were going to be the death of me. Although she’d raised Agostinos and not a bunch of uncivilized Ragettis.

Still, they were mine and no one touched what belonged to me.