Page 45 of Shattered King

O ne Year Later

I stretch my sore legs and yawn. My ankles are aching, and my knees hurt. My back feels like there’s a red-hot iron shoved straight up my ass and into my spine.

“Motherhood,” I mutter, glaring out across the backyard.

“Damn right,” Elisa says, raising her glass of wine. “Here’s to it.”

I raise my own and we have a little toast. It’s a cool evening, and I’m pleasantly comfortable right now, despite all the little aches and pains. “I swear, I’m going to be ripped with how often I lift that baby.”

“You already are.”

“Even more ripped. Like bodybuilder ripped.”

Elisa waves a hand. “Those are just show muscles. You got real strength. Mom strength.”

I flex a little and tip more wine into my mouth. “All the power I really need.”

Elisa cackles and checks her phone before putting it face down on the table. “You hear from Raf yet? How’s he feel about your work?”

“He says so long as the garage makes money, he couldn’t give a flying cock how I run the place.”

“Sounds like him.”

“It’s exactly what I want in a Don and a brother—keeping his goddamn hands off what’s mine.”

Elisa shakes her head, grinning. “You’ve been in charge for six months and you’re already acting like it’s your entire life.”

“Because it is.”

“Sorry, weren’t we just toasting to motherhood?”

“Nitto keeps me busy at home, but you know Luca. He’s like a freaking hawk with that kid.”

“Seriously, it kind of surprises me how protective and involved he’s been.”

“It’s great, though.” I glance back toward the house where Luca’s giving Nitto dinner. “Not many mafia guys are as hands-on with the kids as he is.”

“Gives you tons of space too.”

“The nannies help a lot with that.”

Elisa waggles her eyebrows. “Must be nice.”

“Even with the nannies during the day, it’s still not easy. So when are you having kids?”

“I’d need a sperm donor first.”

“Pretty sure you could get any guy to make a deposit whenever you wanted.”

“True.” She salutes me with her glass. “However, I’m picky.”

“And there’s your problem.”

“Are you saying I should spread my legs for the first willing stud?”

“No, but I am saying you could use some direction, that’s all.”

Her face twitches slightly, and I can tell I’m on thin ice. I’ve been prodding at her to get a job, pick up a hobby, find a man, basically to do anything aside from mope around the house like she has for the past year, but she’s not really receptive to my ideas.

“Duly noted. And suggestion rejected. You should stick to managing your garage instead of trying to manage my life.”

“That’s a fair point.” I groan and rub my tired legs. “Why’d they have to make the place so big? And put my freaking office upstairs?”

Every day’s been a blessing and a challenge since Nitto was born. He’s a dream baby, handsome and happy and outgoing, which is why I thought I’d have the energy to take over as the manager of the Famiglia’s new garage. Turns out, it’s really hard to have it all.

But I love it anyway. Motherhood changed me in ways I never dreamed of, and I’m finding that management suits me.

I’m not elbow-deep in cars anymore, or at least not as often, but I’m around the job all the time now.

I make the calls and set the schedule. I’m the brains at the top, and my employees are my hands and my fingers, putting everything together.

We’ve been focusing on refinishing and rebuilding classic cars, and we’ve put together one hell of a high-end client list over the past few months.

It’s been crazy hard work, but so extremely satisfying.

We chat for a little longer until the sliding door opens. Nitto’s in Luca’s arms, looking sleepy, and he reaches for me. “Bedtime,” Luca says as my lovely little son reaches for me with his chubby perfect hands.

I take my boy in my arms and squeeze as he makes gibbering happy noises. “Mommy,” he says, or something that sounds a lot like it.

“Are you sleepy, little darling?” I kiss him a dozen times, and he laughs as he squirms. “Are you so very tired?”

Luca pours himself a glass of wine and sits. “Exhausted, thanks for asking.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Complainer.”

Elisa leans toward my husband, propping her chin on her hands. “You know, Super Dad, your wife here was just telling me that I need to get pregnant. Do you happen to have any siblings?”

“Actually—” Luca starts, but I cut him off.

“No! Not going down that weird incesty road. No thank you!”

“Shame,” Elisa says with a sigh.

“I’ll be back after I put him down.” I squeeze my kid and get up with a grunt. He’s so heavy, but I love him to pieces. I’d happily suffer a sore back if it meant another forever of little kid hugs.

Luca comes inside with me. He kisses me and Nitto as we retreat upstairs. Then there’s reading, singing, the whole damn routine. It’s gotten a little bloated in the last couple of months. But eventually, Nitto’s down.

“How are you holding up?” Luca asks me in the dark hall outside our son’s room.

“Tired, but good. It’s a happy tired.”

“That’s the best kind.” He pulls me against him and kisses me lightly. “And Elisa?”

“Hanging in there.” I glance toward the steps. I worry about her but decide not to say anything. Luca knows better than anyone else. The way I fuss over my sister is the way he fusses over me. “This has been one of the hardest months of my life.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But it’s also one of the best. Because I have you and Nitto and the garage.”

“Yeah.” He grins and kisses me. “I know.”

“We should get back down there before Elisa finishes the wine.” I lean against his chest, and his arms wrap around me tighter.

“In a minute. Let’s just stay here for a bit.”

“Yeah.” I let out a breath and close my eyes. My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Just for a little while.”

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