Page 20 of My Solemn Vow (The Mafia Arrangement #1)
VALOR
THE FIRST FUNERAL
After our short wedding ‘ceremony,’ we walk back to the church’s entrance, where Sean’s casket is arriving.
We escort it, as pallbearers, to the front of the church, and I can’t believe he’s gone.
I rest my hand on the center of the casket.
Closed because it was too brutal. He fought until his lifeblood ran dry.
But that doesn’t answer any of the questions that haunt me.
How did this happen? How do I console my daughter through this?
How do I find someone else she’ll feel safe with?
How do I trust anyone else to take care of her?
I turn back to the vestibule to greet my pack, and Antonella is waiting for me. With her hands clasped in front of her waist, she radiates patience and understanding.
She doesn’t need direction. When I step toward her, she offers me her hand.
I help her down the stairs, and as the first few cars arrive, she takes her place by my side.
She casts her eyes down, trying, and succeeding, to look as respectful and subservient as possible.
Gregorio’s and Eduardo’s wives adopt similar positions, practically shrinking into invisibility beside them.
It irks me that this is the norm for her. It’s evident there’s a stark contrast between our families. The way they treat their woman like filth. We should have kept eradicating them. Stupid fucking truce.
I place my hand on her mid-back, and Antonella tilts her head and eyes up to look at me. “We’re a proud people. My wife needs to be strong and show a united front.”
She gives me a single nod and straightens her spine.
I know I should take my hand away, but I like the way it feels to touch her. The possessive bit of my soul clings to her. Antonella is mine, after all .
Ours, the animal inside me corrects. Could be more than just our wife. He practically bites his tongue, but I feel it anyway and stiffen with the thought.
Cars and SUVs full of people unload, and pack members climb the stairs, greeting me and nodding to Antonella until the church is nearly full.
Then my SUV pulls up with Kerrianne and my mother. How the fuck do I explain this to Kerrianne?
I finally drop my hand from Antonella’s back.
It’s not that I keep Kerrianne completely closed off from what I do, but there’s an appropriate time to explain what’s going on. The day Kerrianne buries her bodyguard is not the day to tell her I’m married and another woman will be living with us.
Antonella slips her fingers into my hand and squeezes, and I look to her.
She whispers, “I’m going up to the visitation and will take a seat in the second row.
You can take Kerrianne up to visit and get through the services.
If she asks why I’m here, explain that funerals are when people come together to show that they care for those who have lost a loved one. I’m here to be supportive.”
I’m barely done processing those words before she steps away from me, her hand slipping from my grasp. Everything she said makes logical sense. It’s exactly the right sort of thing to do in this situation.
How does she know how to do all this when I don’t? What information does she have that I’m lacking? How is she more of an expert at this than I am?
I can’t come up with a reason to distrust what she says or does in this moment.
Antonella continues up the stairs as Kerrianne comes through the door. She runs over and wraps herself around me.
Her little tears and sniffles tug on my heartstrings. Kerrianne hugs my legs until I pull her off me, but only so I can get down to her level for a full hug.
“I’ve missed you so much. I don’t want you to go ever again.” Her crying panic gets her nose running, and my heart breaks into a bunch of little pieces.
This isn’t the first funeral she’s attended, even recently, but it’s the first time it’s been someone she had contact with daily. Well, that she’d remember anyway.
I pull tissues out of my pocket and hand one to her. She blows her nose and hands it back to me, and I shove it in my opposite pocket.
“I love you, little raptor. I won’t go away unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Sean died.” Her words have tears threatening my eyes. Her voice is so small. “He was supposed to protect me. Then Grandma came and got me.”
“It’ll be okay. You’ll always be protected,” I promise, already running through the names of people in our organization who I trust, but more than that, who I trust with Kerrianne’s life. It’s an exceedingly short list. “Until then, you’ll be with Grandma, Grandpa, Royal, or me full-time.”
Kerrianne nods in understanding and hiccups. I offer her another tissue. She cleans her nose and then, lip still quivering, gives me another hug. I give her one more tight squeeze before standing and setting her on her feet.
I turn back to the church and lead her up the stairs and down the aisle, to the final visitation of the wolf who gave his life for her.
My parents lead the way, Kerrianne and I following them closely.
Our people are silent as we walk by. Their heads bowed in respect. How different are our traditions from hers?
After the funeral services, I sent Kerrianne home with my mother, and Antonella returned to my side. The December air is cold against our skin, and while Kerrianne’s a wolf, there was no need for her to stay out in this weather.
The part I hate the most in all this is that we drove across the cities, deep into what was — arguably, still is — enemy territory, to lay him to rest among the D’Medici people.
Graveside service, the final prayers as he’s lowered into the ground, and the toast to his afterlife are done in less than thirty minutes.
Antonella sat by my side through the burial, and it was an easy, comforting silence.
Normally, we’d head back to the pack house and tell stories, share memories, eat and drink in Sean’s name. But with a second funeral to attend today, we hold a small reception here, among the D’Medici headstones.
When Antonella asked to stretch her legs, I didn’t have an objection. The opportunity to gather my thoughts was welcomed, but now I’m watching her from a distance as she seamlessly integrates herself with my people.
Our people, my wolf corrects.
We’ve been at this cemetery for about an hour, and one thing I hadn’t thought about was how similar or different our families would be when it came to mourning.
Gregorio D’Medici is here with his wife out of respect for the truce.
They’re respectful but not overly chatty among the pack, and they completely ignore Antonella’s presence.
The jury is still out on the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ in that dynamic.
The cemetery isn’t exclusive to the D’Medici empire, but it’s clear that Italians take their dead as seriously as we do.
The plots, headstones, and monuments are similar.
There are fewer crosses and trinity knots but more angels and longer epitaphs.
Flowers sit at almost every family monument and individual headstone, solar lights dot the grassy areas, and little flags mark the graves of those who served our country’s military.
Sean’s body may be separated from the pack and laid to rest here, but at least we know it will be respected and not forgotten.
My eyes leave the slabs of granite to find Antonella again.
It doesn’t take long. She makes her own introductions and offers condolences.
I note the way she positions herself, never tucking behind trees or monuments.
It strikes me as purposeful that she never leaves my sight.
Even when someone stands before me to speak, she finds a way into my peripheral.
One of the quartermaster’s sons, who’s younger than Kerrianne, approaches Antonella as she speaks with Sean’s mother, who flew in from Ireland.
The boy gently pats Antonella’s thigh, and without breaking the conversation, Antonella wraps her hand around the boy’s and gives it a squeeze. He stands, patiently waiting. In less than a minute, when her conversation with Sean’s mother is done, Antonella turns to the little boy.
Her long dress restricts her movements, but Antonella shuffles the skirt and gets to a low crouch, despite wearing four-inch heels.
In a lull of my conversation, I catch her talking the boy through the steps to tie his shoe.
It looks like the bunny and tree method I used with Kerrianne.
She then double knots it and gives him a low five.
You’d have to be blind in one eye and not able to see out of the other to miss the fact that she’s good with children. It’s appealing, and I don’t like how this observation makes my slacks tighter. Kerrianne doesn’t need a sibling.
Doesn’t she? My wolf thinks about how much fun it’s been to play and see the little raptor grow.
“Valor.” My name is said with a thick Irish accent.
I force myself to look away from Antonella.
It’s harder than it should be. When I do, my uncle and the alpha of the Northern Ireland pack, Patrick Doyle, comes to stand beside me.
Patrick, who is mated to my dad’s sister, Deidra, made a special trip for the occasion.
A truce between families is monumental, and the effects are so widespread that it made waves all around the world.
“Patrick.” I shake his hand. “Good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you. Especially on such a happy day. Congratulations.” Perhaps scarier than my father, who can be straight faced through anything, Patrick smiles.
“Thank you, Patrick.”
Losing Sean and signing a meaningless truce don’t seem to lend to a happy day, but according to him, my father, and my uncle, we’re to be celebrating peace. So I let it go.
“It’s a shame about Sean.” He nods to the grave. “Of all people, I never thought a D’Medici would get the drop on him. Humans like that taking down a wolf with his skill set. I trained him myself since he was a teen. What we don’t know about this is aggravating, yet a moot point, I suppose.”