Page 27 of Devil’s Embrace (31 Days of Trick or Treat: Biker & Mobster #10)
Emory
One Year Later
I pinned the silver horn to Mina's headband, making sure it was secure before stepping back to admire my handiwork.
My little unicorn. The pure white costume with its rainbow-trimmed hooves and tail made her blue eyes shine even brighter in the soft glow of the pumpkin lights Luca's men had strung around our living room.
One year. We'd survived one entire year since that blood-soaked night when everything changed.
When Luca had killed for us. When I'd helped him do it.
"Is it straight, Mama?" Mina reached up to touch the horn with careful fingers.
"Perfect." I brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The prettiest unicorn in all of Havenview."
She twirled, the costume's tail swishing behind her. At six years old, she'd grown taller, stronger, her face losing some of its baby roundness. But her smile—that hadn't changed. Somehow, despite everything she'd seen, everything we'd been through, my daughter still smiled with her whole heart.
Our home wasn't large, but it was ours—mostly. Luca had purchased it when I’d been hesitant to remain at the Moretti compound.
The cameras outside, the reinforced doors with their state-of-the-art locks, the carefully casual presence of his men in the neighborhood—all of it spoke to something deeper than mere protection.
I glanced at my watch. Two hours since my last support group meeting. Dr. Keller had suggested it three months ago. "Shared trauma recovery," she'd called it. I hadn't shared the exact nature of my trauma, of course. "Home invasion" was what I'd told them. Close enough to the truth.
"Can I hold my candy bucket now?" Mina bounced on her toes, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Sure, sweet pea." I handed her the plastic purple pail, another gift from Luca. He never came empty-handed, each present for Mina more thoughtful than the last.
I forced a smile, pushing away thoughts of our relationship. Tonight was for Mina. For normal childhood experiences. For pretending we were just like any other mother and daughter heading out for Halloween.
The doorbell rang, its chime followed by the distinctive pattern of knocks that had become our private signal. Mina squealed, rushing toward the door. "It's Luca!"
"Wait for me to open it," I reminded her gently, placing a hand on her costumed shoulder. Old habits. Necessary precautions. I checked the security panel beside the door and saw Luca's familiar figure on the small screen.
I opened the door, and there he stood. Luca Moretti, the Devil himself, dressed in an immaculate black coat over a charcoal suit, his blue-gray eyes finding mine immediately.
My pulse jumped at the sight of him, my body's response as immediate and traitorous as ever.
Not fear—not anymore—but something more complicated.
Something that still woke me in the night, breathless and aching.
"Trick or treat!" Mina chirped, bouncing on her toes.
Luca's face transformed, the hard lines softening as he crouched down to her level. "Look at you. A unicorn, just like you wanted."
"With a real horn and everything," she confirmed proudly, pointing to her headband. "Mama made it special."
His eyes flicked up to meet mine, something warm and appreciative in their depths. "Your mama is very talented."
He reached into his coat and produced a small gift bag, its handles tied with purple ribbon. "I brought something for your costume."
Mina took the bag reverently, her excitement tempered by a deliberate care. "Can I open it now?"
"Of course," he replied, still crouched at her level.
She pulled out a small box and opened it to reveal a delicate silver bracelet with tiny unicorn charms dangling from its links. "It's beautiful."
"May I?" Luca asked, taking the bracelet when she nodded. His large hands, capable of such violence, fastened the clasp gently around her small wrist. "There. Now you're a true unicorn princess."
"Thank you!" She threw her arms around his neck, a gesture that still made him stiffen momentarily before his arms came around her in a careful embrace.
I watched them, this strange pair—my daughter and the man who had killed to protect her.
The man who still visited three times a week with gifts and stories.
The man whose men watched our home day and night.
The man I sometimes let into my bed after Mina was asleep, though he never stayed till morning.
Luca rose to his full height, his gaze finding mine again. "You look beautiful."
I glanced down at my simple black sweater and jeans, accessorized with a witch's hat for the occasion. "Hardly."
"Ready to go?" I reached for my jacket. "The neighborhood association starts the trick-or-treating route at seven."
Luca nodded, stepping back onto the porch to give us space.
As I helped Mina with her light jacket—unicorns still needed to stay warm, I'd explained—I caught Luca's subtle nod toward the window.
Following his gaze, I spotted one of his men across the street, positioned casually near a streetlamp. Always watching. Always protecting.
"I'm going to get so much candy." Mina clutched her bucket. "And I'm going to share it with you and Luca. Even the chocolate ones."
"That's very generous, sweet pea." I smoothed her costume one last time.
As we stepped into the hallway, Luca's hand brushed against mine—a brief, deliberate contact that sent electricity up my arm.
I looked up into his face, studying the scar that ran along his jaw, the slight shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
He'd changed too, this past year. Softened in some ways, hardened in others.
The weight of running his empire while carving out space for us in his life had left its mark.
"Thank you for coming." I hoped he knew I meant more than just tonight.
"Always." The simple word rang heavy with promise.
Mina skipped ahead of us, her unicorn tail bouncing with each step. I watched her go—my resilient, beautiful daughter who still believed in magic despite having seen the darkness of the world too early.
I met Luca's intense gaze and saw in it everything we never said aloud. The danger that still lurked beyond our carefully constructed safe haven. The impossibility of our situation. The undeniable pull between us that neither time nor circumstance had diminished.
I gave him a small smile, acknowledging it all without words.
We'd survived a year. We'd built something neither of us had expected.
And tonight, just for a few hours, we'd pretend to be normal—a little girl and the two adults who would die to protect her, walking through a world that had no idea who we really were or what we'd done to be standing here together.
Luca
I kept three paces behind Emory and Mina, close enough to reach them in an instant if needed, far enough to maintain a clear field of vision.
The crowded streets of Havenview's historic district swarmed with costumed children and their parents, each group a potential cover for threats, each shadowed doorway a possible ambush point.
Old habits. Necessary vigilance. The Devil goes trick-or-treating.
The thought would have made Mateo turn in his watery grave.
"Look, Mama! A real haunted house!" Mina pointed excitedly toward an elaborate display where mechanical ghosts rose from behind tombstones and recorded howls played on a loop.
Emory nodded, her blonde hair catching the street lights as she bent to Mina's level. "Do you want to go up there, sweet pea? It might be a little scary."
"I'm not scared." Mina’s chin lifted in a gesture so reminiscent of her mother that something tightened in my chest.
A year. One full year since I'd put a bullet in Mateo Senior’s and Junior's heads.
Since I'd claimed what was left of his operation and folded it into mine.
Since I'd made the decision that changed everything—to keep them in my life rather than erase them from it.
My lieutenants had questioned my judgment at first. A few had paid for their doubts with their lives.
The others had learned quickly that Emory and Mina were off-limits for discussion.
I scanned the crowd automatically, identifying Marco near the coffee shop entrance and Vincent across the street by the Italian bakery. Two more of my men were positioned at either end of the block. Overkill, perhaps, but I'd made too many enemies to risk anything less.
A small commotion to our left caught my attention. A young boy, maybe four years old, stood crying in his pirate costume, clearly separated from his parents. Before I could react, Emory was already moving toward him, kneeling down despite the dirty sidewalk.
"Hey there," she said, her voice gentle. "Did you lose your mom and dad?"
The boy nodded, tears streaming down his face.
"We'll help you find them." She looked up to scan the crowd.
He sniffled. "Mom was dressed like a witch."
I watched her with the child, something unfamiliar expanding in my chest. Compassion came so naturally to her, even after everything she'd experienced. The violence she'd witnessed. The blood on her own hands. She still stopped for a crying child without hesitation.
Emory spotted a frantic woman in a witch's hat pushing through the crowd and pointed her out to the boy. His face lit up as he ran toward his mother, who scooped him up with visible relief.
"Thank you," the woman called to Emory, who just smiled and waved it off.
When she returned to my side, I said quietly, "That was kind."
She shrugged. "Any parent would do the same."
No, they wouldn't. My own mother wouldn't have. Mateo certainly wouldn't have. Kindness was rare in my world—a weakness to be exploited rather than a strength to be admired. Yet in Emory, it only made her more formidable in my eyes.