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MARCO

I'm drowning in nieces and nephews.

Elio's house is a veritable hive of children. There are babies or young children literally everywhere, including in Elio’s arms. We’re outside, looking at the carved winter wonderland that Elio had ice sculptors put into place prior to the holiday.

The kids, predictably, are still enjoying the many wonders of a backyard filled with ice sculptures that they can walk into.

Elio, Caterina, Sal, and Gia are all chasing each other around the yard. Marisol and Dino, and the twins, are laughing from the top floor of the two-story ice palace that Elio spent an obscene amount of money on.

I stare at Elio, shaking my head.

It would be pretty fucking funny, seeing a man that I once witnessed burn through an entire platoon of bottle girls in a week, covered completely in babies and wearing an apron, but somehow, it's not really that funny.

None of this, in fact, feels like how I wanted it to feel .

I wanted it to feel...

Good.

Instead, looking out at the family holiday gathering, I feel something else entirely.

Nothing.

An emptiness that I know too fucking well, perhaps..

But nothing like the wave of happiness and satisfaction that I had expected.

"Zio Marco!" Luna shouts, her face wide and her eyes a little crazy from eating nothing but straight candy for the past twenty-four hours. "Come play!" She zooms over, her cheeks red with the cold.

I give her the best smile I can muster. "In a minute, stellina."

Luna pouts, a look that's so achingly familiar to me. Caterina looked like that as a kid too, and fuck if it didn't wear me the fuck down.

Time and time again.

I’ve never been able to say no to my siblings. Not in any way, shape, or form. I might frequently have to navigate my way around many dangers to figure out how to do what’s best for them…

But an outright refusal has been something I’ve been incapable of.

So, looking into my niece’s eyes, I give her a wink. I hope to not convey any of my melancholy.

I can’t be her favorite zio, after all, if I’m not fun.

"I'll come to play in a minute," I say gently .

Luna sighs, but zips quickly to play with her cousins in the massive ice castle that Elio constructed for all of the cousins.

We're in that post-holiday time between Christmas and New Year's where nothing really happens.

The kids are all enjoying their gifts, which were an absolute mountain of brightly-wrapped presents mere days ago, and us adults are just snacking on whatever food we can find while drinking our way through Elio's admittedly impressive wine collection.

It's a moment that happens every year. But, considering how much unrest and strife we've been through in the past few years, this one feels special.

This one feels like...

Well. It should feel like a fucking amazing thing. I've worked my ass off to make this day happen. For years, I've been the one pulling the strings to make sure that my siblings can all enjoy this fucking moment.

My siblings are all enjoying the time with their respective families.

Elio and Caterina, with their daughter Luna and their new baby.

Dino, my half-brother who has lived his life as the black sheep of our family for so long.

Seeing him enjoy his wife, Marisol, and take time out of running the cartel that used to belong to Marisol’s father, is wonderful.

Their twin daughters, the nieces that I went above and beyond to protect when Dino couldn’t, are screaming with laughter as they slide on the ice.

Sal, my second brother and the jack-of-all-trades spymaster for our family, tugs his wife Gia close. Gia is Elio’s twin, and arguably one of the most terrifying people on the face of the planet .

Except for now, when she’s bouncing their son in her lap, her laughter is clear and brazen in the winter air.

Seeing everyone together is… good. It’s everything I’ve hoped for. Everything I’ve worked for in the past decade.

It’s so different from the De Luca get-togethers when I was a kid. Those felt… hard. Edgy in a way that I don’t care to repeat. I’m the oldest sibling, so I remember how tense our family used to be.

How quickly it all fell apart when my grandfather and uncles were sent to jail.

I knew, the second my father told me that I would become the head of the family, that I wouldn’t do anything to risk my siblings.

Ever.

In fact, I would dedicate my life to making them happy. The world that we operate in has so little joy, I swore then that I would never take that joy away from my siblings.

I would cultivate it instead.

I told myself that it would all be worth it. That seeing them be happy would be enough, and that I could just fucking suck it up and soak in their joy. That it would be enough for me.

There is joy. It's echoed around me in the joyful shrieks of children and the low hum of conversation. I see it when Sal gives Gia a kiss on the forehead, or when Dino's eyes soften, ever so slightly, when he watches Marisol dance with the girls.

There's plenty of joy.

It just doesn't reach me.

I’m… somewhere else. Distant .

The joy that they feel?

I get none of it.

"If your face gets any more sour, you're going to spoil the wine," Elio mutters behind me.

I roll my eyes. "Fuck off."

"You're lucky Caterina didn't catch you swearing in front of the children," he chides.

I roll my eyes again at that, but move slightly so that I'm following Elio back into the kitchen and in from the cold. My little sister, Elio’s wife, is the epitome of kindness. Until, of course, you do something to upset her.

Then, she can raise hell with the best of them, and I have no doubt that Caterina would give me the worst of it if she found out I did, in fact, swear in front of the children.

Inside, I give his apron a meaningful look. "You should wear this to the next business meeting with the Russians. I think it would really put them in their place."

"Fuck you," he says, but there's no fire in the words. Instead, my friend's eyes twinkle with a kind of satisfaction that makes my chest hurt. "You're just jealous that you did not receive such a gift."

"Well I wouldn't, now would I?" I say under my breath.

Elio glances down at where the words "Best Dad Ever" are printed on the canvas. It's a masculine enough looking thing, but the bedazzled words have Caterina and Luna's trademark flair.

Elio's face softens. "I would wear it in front of them with pride, my friend."

The fucking bitterness expands, until it feels like it's pulsing at the edges of my chest. I don't respond to Elio, instead opting to refill my cup.

"Marco," Elio says.

I turn.

His head is tilted sideways, and he studies me. "What?" he asks.

"What do you mean, what?"

"Something is wrong."

"No it isn't," I snap. "Everything is fucking fantastic. The kids had a great fucking Christmas and I remain everyone's favorite uncle, once again."

Elio nods. "This is true. I hate you for getting Luna a full drum set, but she seems to be plenty happy."

That was a particularly inspired idea, and I can't help but smile. "You're welcome."

"And yet,' Elio continues, coming closer to me. "It still seems as though something is...Amiss."

"Nothing is wrong," I grunt.

He looks at me before turning. "Well. Then you'll be ready to tell me how long you plan on sticking around this time."

They could be regular words that any brother-in-law would say to his family.

Or a best friend, to his.

But with Elio, I have known him too long, and I detect the darkness underneath his tone .

For better or worse, Elio may be the only person who understands me and my position.

I open my mouth, ready to say something to him about the fact that I don't feel as fucking content as I’ve worked to feel, that I'm fucking lost in this sea of family and smilies and happiness, when my eyes drift to the apron.

Best Dad.

It slams into me, then. Elio and I are not alike. At least not in this.

Elio looks at me, his eyes searching mine.

He is a man who has everything he wants.

And I'm one who has nothing.

I shake my head, my smile tight and barely there. "No. I'm fine, Elio."

"You're lying."

I shrug. "If I am, it doesn't change my answer."

Elio studies me for a minute longer, then sighs. "When is the trial?"

Something inside me tightens. "Three weeks."

He nods. "And how do you plan to pull that off?"

I'm not quite sure yet.

I agreed to testify for Interpol, a star witness in a gun running trial against the Irish.

My only stipulations, of course, were that my family would not be harmed, and that I would have immunity and protection for my twin nieces.

Dino came to me with the secret of their existence many years ago, and I've slowly fed Interpol bits and pieces of information, enough that they continued to watch over Marisol and the two girls.

Until recently.

Recently, the small tidbits of information became a torrent.

When Caterina and Elio married, I wanted Caterina to find out if Elio had killed our parents.

However, I needed to be sure, so I asked for a bunch of favors with my Interpol handler as well.

Compounded with the fact that Dino's now-wife and the mother of his children was kidnapped by her father to be married off. ..

I had to call in favors.

And favors with Interpol usually mean that you have to return them.

In my case, it's testimony. I'm being forced to show my face in court in three weeks, metaphorically speaking, in order to testify against Liam MacAntyre, and his brother.

Who Elio killed.

Figuring out how to provide evidence to incriminate the Irish, who we now think may have been behind the attack that killed Elio's parents and mine, has been..

Challenging.

Escaping protective custody even more so.

Especially when my jailer had beautiful strawberry-blonde hair and green eyes...

Shut the fuck up, Marco.

I slam the door on thoughts of her before I let them destroy my mood even more .