Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rafaele

T he weeks pass with a surprising quiet, a calm I haven’t known in years. The raids on our warehouses have stopped, and business has settled into an efficient rhythm once again. But my mind isn’t on any of that today. It’s on her. On Nora, whose stomach is now rounding with our child—a sight that stirs something fierce and soft in equal measure within me.

I sit across from my father in yet another meeting, the room filled with the usual faces: local allies, enforcers, all men I’ve known for years. But as they talk, laying out their plans and demands, my focus drifts. It’s almost time for the ultrasound appointment, and I can feel the seconds ticking away, pulling me away from this room and back to her side.

I don’t want to miss this—not again. I’ve been the best husband I can be, as much as this life allows, but even with my efforts to make her a priority, it’s not always possible. And she never complains, never makes me feel her disappointment. But today? Today is different. Today is our twenty-week scan, the one where we’ll find out if we’re having a little princess or a prince. Not that I’ve mentioned this to my father. I don’t need his involvement, his toxicity tainting this moment for us.

“Rafaele will come with you to check on this issue,” my father says, barely looking up from his paperwork.

What issue? I keep my face devoid of expression as I turn to him. “I’m not sure it would be the best use of my time to go.”

My father’s gaze snaps to me, a frown deepening the lines around his mouth. “It is because I said so.”

Ah, here we are again—one of his cyclical power assertion games. They happen randomly, although lately, they’ve become more frequent. Every time someone questions his decisions or asks for me over him, he reacts this way. I never realized before how insecure he was, but in the past few months, it’s become more striking. Maybe it’s because I’m stepping into my role more firmly, with a wife and a child on the way.

I glance at my watch, feeling my patience slip. “Well, whatever this issue is, it will have to wait. I have a prior commitment.”

The subtle shift in his expression shows his irritation. “A commitment that’s more important than the business?”

“More important than an ambiguous ‘issue’ you decided needs my attention, yes,” I reply calmly, knowing full well I’m testing his patience. But today, I don’t care.

The tension thickens as I rise, ignoring the disapproving murmurs from the others around the table. Without a backward glance, I state, "I’ll see you all later."

I make my way toward the exit, feeling my father’s eyes boring into my back. Sure enough, he follows, and the moment we’re in the hallway, he grabs my arm, forcing me to turn and face him.

“You are a disgrace, Rafaele!” His voice is low but seething, meant to cut, to unsettle me.

I hold his gaze, unfazed. “Then force me to step down, Father,” I reply evenly. “Take over. I’ll be waiting.”

He’s quiet for a beat, his eyes narrowing, the mask slipping for just a second. He wants power, wants me to cower, to bow to his will—but he knows he’ll never succeed. And he hates it.

“Just like I thought,” I say, my voice calm. “You know you’ll never win that fight.”

For a moment, I almost expect him to lash out, but he pulls himself back, standing straighter as he glares at me, frustration simmering beneath his cold, proud exterior. “One day, your weakness will destroy everything I’ve built.”

“Then I’ll build something better,” I say, turning on my heel. Without another word, I leave him standing in the hall, knowing I have somewhere far more important to be.

I arrive at the clinic with only minutes to spare, my heart racing from the confrontation but calming the moment I see Nora’s face light up. Her eyes sparkle, her smile soft and full of relief. In that moment, I know I made the right choice.

“You came?” she asks, her voice tinged with wonder.

I pull her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

She squeezes my hand as we’re called back to the room, where the technician prepares her for the ultrasound.

As I sit beside Nora, holding her hand tightly, my attention is fixed on the monitor, anticipation making every second feel like an eternity. Then, suddenly, the screen flickers to life, and there it is—a tiny, perfect figure nestled inside her. My heart pounds in time with the soft, rhythmic thump that fills the room.

The technician points, and we both look as she says, “There’s your little one.”

But I can barely hear her words. All I can focus on is that small heartbeat, steady and strong, filling the room with a sound I never thought would affect me like this. It’s strange, beautiful, grounding, and yet utterly surreal. My heart swells with something fierce, something more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt—a protectiveness, a devotion I’d thought I’d given away completely to Nora but now feels doubled, infinite.

“So, now is the time to decide. Do you want to know the baby’s gender?”

Nora turns to me, and I kiss the back of the hand I’m holding. “I’m happy either way, amore. You decide.”

She smiles before turning toward the technician and giving her a little nod.

“There you go,” the technician says with a smile, pointing to the screen. “You’re having a girl.”

A girl. I feel a warmth flood through me, something fierce and proud. I blink, feeling a burning sensation in my eyes, and I realize I’m on the verge of tears. A daughter. Our daughter. I’m not sure if I’m more terrified or more elated. But as I turn to share my joy with Nora, I catch a hint of something in her expression—worry, maybe even doubt.

The technician wipes the gel from Nora’s belly. “I will leave you a moment and print the images. Join me when you are done.”

“You don’t get your heir,” she whispers so quietly I barely hear it as she looks down at her stomach. “You needed a boy, Rafaele. We can try again… later.”

The words cut through me, and my chest tightens. Over my dead body , I think but don’t say, holding back the urge to tell her right here and now that I’ll never risk her life again. My decision is already made—I’ll be making sure there is no “next time.”

I brush a strand of hair from her face, giving her a look that I hope shows how certain I am. “Who says I need a boy?” I ask, my voice filled with quiet conviction. “This little girl will be the most feared mafia boss the world has ever seen.”

Nora’s eyes widen, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Women don’t lead,” she says softly, as though the words are etched deep in tradition.

“Should they?” I counter, my eyes never leaving hers.

She searches my face, and after a beat, she nods, her voice a whisper. “You know, I think so.”

“This one will,” I say with absolute certainty. “She’ll be as unhinged as me and as bright as you. Lethal.”

A quiet laugh escapes her, and her hand drifts to her belly as I press a kiss to the small bump. “Are you really happy?” she asks tentatively.

I meet her eyes, brushing my lips over her stomach again. “I’m more than happy, amore. I couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.”

She runs her fingers through my hair, smiling. “My husband, the feminist.”

I help her up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as we prepare to leave. The relief I feel at having a daughter, at breaking the cycle, is profound. I’m not humoring her—I mean it when I say our girl will be the boss. She will be extraordinary.

Once we collect the sonogram images, we head downstairs, finding Paolo waiting in the lobby.

“I told you you didn’t need to wait,” I say, shaking my head.

He grins, unfazed. “I know, but I wanted to see if I’m going to be an uncle or an aunt.”

Nora bursts into laughter, and I roll my eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

But she grabs his hand, her eyes shining with excitement. “We’re having a little girl!”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to be an aunt, then!” He claps me on the shoulder, his grin widening. “And let me tell you, I’m thrilled. It’s karmic justice. This will be years of endless entertainment for me.”

“Paolo…” Nora chides, laughing.

“Just wait until she starts dating. That’ll be the real show.”

I scoff, pulling Nora gently toward the door. “She won’t be dating.”

Nora gives me a look of pure disbelief while Paolo’s grin only grows. “See what I mean?” Paolo laughs. “This is going to be fantastic.”

“You’re joking, right?” She nudges me as we step outside, looking amused but skeptical.

“Not in the slightest,” I say firmly, placing a hand on the small of her back. “This girl stays home forever.”

Paolo cackles, and Nora sighs, throwing her hands up with a laugh as she slides into the car.

As we settle into our seats, Paolo takes his position up front, already leaning back with a smirk as he glances over his shoulder. “So, have you started brainstorming names for my little niece? I think Paolo-etta has a nice ring to it.”

Nora laughs, shaking her head. “Pretty sure that’s not happening.”

“Oh, come on,” he protests. “Then how about something more… dignified? Like… Paolina. Or Paolina the First.”

I roll my eyes, but Nora humors him, leaning into me with a smile. “We’ll keep it in mind, Paolo.”

“Or,” he continues, undeterred, “we name her something fierce, like Valkyrie. She’ll need a name that strikes fear into the hearts of her future dates.” He pauses, grinning. “Not that she’ll ever have them, right, Rafaele?”

I let out a dry chuckle. “You’re catching on.”

Paolo claps his hands. “Perfect! I’ll teach her how to glare at boys from a young age.”

Nora shakes her head, rolling her eyes playfully. “You’re both absolutely incorrigible. Poor girl doesn’t even know what she’s in for.”

As we arrive at the house, Paolo opens the car door for Nora, offering her an exaggerated bow. “After you, soon-to-be mother of the next queen of the underworld.”

Nora laughs, rolling her eyes as she steps out of the car, her hand in mine. But as we walk toward the house, I see a familiar figure waiting at the entrance, his posture tense and his face grim. My father’s consigliere, Max Romano, is standing there, and he looks like he’s aged ten years.

Max and I have never seen eye to eye—he’s been my father’s man through and through, always critical of my way of doing things. He rarely comes here, and seeing him now, with that look on his face, sends a chill through me.

When he speaks, his voice is low, his tone somber. “The capo is dead, Rafaele. He had a heart attack. You’re the capo now.”

It’s been ten days since my father’s passing, ten days of stepping fully into his role. While my responsibilities haven’t changed much, the weight of the new administrative and social obligations has been heavier than I anticipated. I always found the sociability side of it all tedious, and now it’s relentless.

And I miss Nora. I haven’t truly seen her this past week—leaving before she’s up and returning long after she’s asleep. I chose to keep the business away from our home, a decision my father would never have made, but I want our space to be safe, untouched by this life. For now, it means more time apart, but I know it’ll be worth it.

Still, every night, I find small reminders of her warmth—a plate of baked goods on the counter or little notes she leaves for me. When I finally slip into bed, she instinctively nestles against me, and even Fate has stopped glaring when I nudge her aside for my place beside Nora.

Holding her like this, I feel the worries of the day dissolve as if the world shrinks down to just us. It’s a high, this feeling—one I never expected, but now I crave it. It’s incredible, really, that more people don’t seek this out.

Today is shaping up to be one of the most tedious yet significant days. With the mourning period complete, it’s time to name my own team. There’s no question about my consigliere—Paolo has always been the clear choice; no one else holds my trust as firmly as he does. As for my sottocapo, Leo should logically fill that role, and yet… that’s where the challenge lies.

I’m here in my father’s office at the mansion, hoping Leo might choose to move in, though I doubt he will. My memories of this place are grim enough, and I imagine Leo’s are even darker; if he had his way, he’d likely burn the whole place to the ground. Perhaps Paolo?—

“How dare you?” My Aunt Maria’s shrill voice interrupts my thoughts.

I look up to see her standing in the doorway, draped head-to-toe in black, an ostentatious veil obscuring half her face. Her indignation practically radiates across the room.

“Funny, I could ask you the same thing,” I respond, my tone icy. “How dare you barge in here like this? And how dare you raise your voice to me?” I stand, slamming my hand against the desk to emphasize my point. “I am not my father, Aunt Maria—I don’t owe you anything.”

She flinches, but her glare doesn’t falter, her contempt sharper than ever. “You didn’t even wait for me to come back! You had him cremated! He was my brother!”

“And he was my father—the capo. His burial was my responsibility, not yours,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “And it’s hardly my fault you were halfway across the world in Italy.” I pause, watching her. “But why the outrage now? You’ve been back for days. What’s different about today?”

“Because I was in mourning!” she snaps. “You didn’t even wait two days. How heartless can you be?”

I adjust my tie, unbothered. “Completely heartless. I’m not sure why you’re surprised; your brother made me this way.”

Her mouth tightens, her face twisted with disgust. “You really are a monster.”

“Yes, I am.” I meet her gaze, unfazed. The same words her daughter had once thrown at me. And speaking of Sofia… now that my father’s gone, there’s nothing stopping me from finding out exactly what role she played in all this.

“Tell me, where is Sofia?”

Her eyes narrow, a flicker of unease crossing her face. “Sofia is in Sicily,” she says, her voice clipped. “Where she’s been grieving her uncle.”

“How convenient,” I reply, folding my arms. “Just as my father dies, she’s nowhere to be found.”

“Don’t you dare insinuate anything against her,” she snaps furiously, stepping closer. “She’s been through enough.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Enough? Maybe. But somehow, I doubt that’s the full story.” I lean in, dropping my voice to a whisper that’s all the more menacing. “Sicily might be far, Aunt Maria, but there’s nowhere far enough to escape me, and I need to talk to your daughter. Have her come back here of her own free will, or I’ll take care of it in a much less pleasant manner.”

“You wouldn’t touch her,” she says, defiance lacing her tone, but there’s a glimpse of fear in her eyes. “Your father would never allow it.”

I let out a dark chuckle. “My father is no longer here to protect her or anyone else. Now, if she’s truly innocent, you have nothing to worry about. But if I find out otherwise…”

I let the threat hang, watching as Aunt Maria’s confidence falters, her hands tightening into fists. After a tense silence, she finally turns and storms out of the office, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floors.

As soon as she’s gone, I pick up the phone and dial Paolo.

“I need everything on Sofia’s activities,” I say, skipping any greeting. “Every step she’s taken since leaving for Sicily. Find out where she’s staying, and make sure she’s in my office the moment her plane hits the tarmac.”

Paolo’s voice comes through, laced with mock cheerfulness. “Good morning, sunshine. Yes, I slept well, thank you for asking. And you? Oh, wait, silly me—you’re the capo, of course, you did.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, suppressing a sigh as I sink into my chair. “Paolo…”

“You’re no fun now that you’re capo.”

“I was no fun before.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles, though I can sense the tension beneath his usual humor. “I’ll have an update for you by tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I’m waiting for Leo.”

“Ah the sottocapo discussion?”

“The one and only.” I hear the beep of the monitor showing the doors of the estate opening to let in my brother’s car. “Speak of the devil.”

“But… I thought you were the devil.”

“Talk to you later, Paolo.”

I’m not even sure how to approach the discussion. Nora told me to be gentle, to let him come to me with his truth as if that was in my nature. Gentle… Well, I am with her, but that’s an anomaly, not the norm.

The door is still open from Aunt Maria’s visit and Leo comes in, standing there awkwardly.

“Come have a seat.”

He’s not his cocky self today—actually, he has not been since our father's passing, and I wonder if it’s guilt gnawing at him.

“How are you doing, Leo?” I ask him, leaning back in my seat.

“I should ask you that question.”

“Deflecting, Leonardo?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the floor, and I let the silence stretch, choosing my words carefully—just like Nora suggested. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk, watching his every reaction.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” I ask finally, keeping my tone steady, almost conversational.

His jaw tightens, and he nods, though he doesn’t look at me. “You’re announcing your team, and… you want me to know first that Paolo is your sottocapo.”

I shake my head, surprised he’d jump to that conclusion. “No, Paolo is—and always will be—my consigliere,” I say, watching as confusion crosses his face. “Leo, I want to know if you’ll be my sottocapo.”

He looks up sharply, his eyes widening with shock like he never saw it coming. “Me?” he stammers, disbelief clear in his voice. “You want me to be your sottocapo?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “You deserve to stand by me in this role. I know things haven’t always been easy between us, but I believe in you, Leo. I know you’re capable.”

His eyes search mine, and I can see the impact of what I’ve said settling over him. There’s a flicker of pride there, mixed with something else—something uncertain and a great amount of guilt. My brother has never been skilled at masking his feelings, or perhaps I just know him too well.

“But… you don’t need me, Rafa. You’ve done just fine on your own,” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince himself more than me.

“Maybe I don’t need you,” I reply, my gaze unwavering. “But I want you. And that’s what matters.”

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. I’ve done a lot of things wrong. Made a lot of mistakes—things I wish I could take back.” His voice trembles, and I’m taken aback to see tears welling in his eyes. The last time I saw him cry was the day I left for Sicily with Paolo; I came back to find a boy who had changed in ways I hadn’t fully understood until now.

“I know.”

A bitter laugh escapes him. “No, you don’t.”

“Leo—I know .”

His eyes widen, the surprise evident. “You do?”

I nod, watching as the tension in his shoulders eases slightly. He exhales shakily, sinking into the chair as though a great weight has been lifted.

“I had to,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ll be a far better capo than he ever could have been.”

I knew. Deep down, I always knew. But hearing it, even in half-spoken words, strikes a chord that resonates deeply. The old Rafaele, the one I was before Nora, might have seriously considered killing him for his crime. But now? I know I can’t. I can’t kill my brother.

I sigh, letting the tension release just a fraction. “You never say that again, understand? Never speak a word of this to anyone, not even on your dying bed. This is a sin you’ll carry silently.”

“It’s not a sin,” he insists stubbornly, his jaw clenched.

I wave a hand, dismissing his argument. “So—sottocapo?”

His eyes meet mine, earnest and conflicted. “I want to be by your side, Rafaele. I always did.”

“Why do I hear a ‘but’ coming my way?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

A sad smile tugs at his lips. “ But I need to clean up some of my own mess first. And before you ask—no, I don’t want your help. This is something I need to do on my own. I need to grow up.”

I expected a lot of things from Leo, but not this. And yet, in this moment, I couldn’t be prouder of him.

“Fine,” I say, a touch of admiration slipping into my voice. “Whenever you’re ready.”

A smile breaks through his serious expression. “She changed you.”

I nod. No point denying it. “Yes, she did.”

“I like this version of you,” he says, the sincerity clear in his tone.

I smirk. “Because I’m more lenient?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Because you’re happy.”

I hold his gaze, the faint smile slipping as the gravity of what I need him to understand takes over. “She’s kind, Leo. She cares too much, forgives too easily. And maybe I’ve softened because of it, but make no mistake—I would burn the world to ashes if anything happened to her.” My voice drops lower, each word carrying the significance of a vow. “She’s the thread of humanity I have left. She’s the reason my heart beats, and I would skin alive anyone who threatens even an inch of her life.”

Leo nods, a serious understanding in his eyes, but I press on, my tone unyielding. “I know you understand that, but this needs to be abundantly clear to everyone. Nora is off-limits.”

He nods again, this time with a firmer resolve, a flicker of loyalty—and perhaps a hint of fear—in his eyes. “Understood. I’d never let anything happen to her. You know that.”

“I do. But I want everyone to know it too.”

“They will,” he replies quietly.

I pause, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. “I’m glad we’re finding our way back, Leo. I missed this.”

He raises an eyebrow, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“There is one.” I take a breath, meeting his gaze. “I care about you—you know that. But I also know that I’ll make decisions you won’t agree with, and there will be people I’ll have to… remove. Some you might feel connected to, but I won’t apologize or explain. Every move I make is to protect my family and the famiglia.”

He watches me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I think he might finally tell me everything. But instead, he nods, a look of acceptance crossing his face as he stands up, ready to leave.

There’s a part of me that’s disappointed—waiting for him to release whatever it is he’s been holding onto. But I know that, for now, this is as close as we’ll get.

“Come for dinner tonight,” I say, my tone softer. “Nora would be happy to see you.”

He hesitates, then nods with a faint smile. “I’ll be there.”

As he walks out, I lean back, letting out a slow breath, feeling the weight of both expectation and duty settle over me. Whatever else Leo might be hiding, I’ll keep him close. I’ll watch over him.

Once he’s gone, I pull out my phone and dial Paolo, who picks up instantly.

“Miss me already, boss?” he says, his voice laced with casual humor that feels grounding.

“Leo’s handling his own mess, but I want you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t get in over his head.”

Paolo’s tone shifts to serious. “Got it. I’ll keep him out of trouble—as much as I can with Leo.”

“Good. And make sure he doesn’t know you’re watching.”

“Always,” he assures me.

With that, I hang up, staring out the window, feeling the complexity of family ties tighten around me. But this time, they feel like ties I’m willing to hold onto.