Page 109 of Thorns of Death

“But still beautiful.”

Isla tilted her chin to me. “This is my…” I waited, holding my breath. Fuck, if she called me her friend, I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my cool. She cleared her throat and continued, “My husband. Enrico.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Isla continued. “His uncle, Manuel. My uncle, Kian. And these are our boys.” Fuck, was it possible to fall in love with my wife even more? Apparently so. “Enzo and Amadeo.” Her eyes flickered to all of us. “Everyone, this is Mrs. Pavlov.”

Everyone murmured their acknowledgements while the hostess clapped her hands excitedly. “You are married?” Isla nodded. “Wait until I tell my husband. He swore you’d be married to that violin.”

“The violin refused to utter ‘I do,’ so the priest called it an invalid union,” Isla joked.

Enzo and Amadeo found it funny, cackling and snickering.

The hostess led us to the table, glancing over her shoulder at Isla and beaming. “So nice to see you again, Isla. I still remember your brother bringing you over for dessert when you were a little girl.” She stopped at the table, set apart from the rest of the restaurant. “And now you have your own family. And you’re the best violinist the world has seen.”

Isla chuckled softly. “Surely not the best the world has seen.”

A stern expression entered the hostess’s expression. “The best,” she claimed, determined. “Don’t bother with modesty.” Isla rolled her eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “When it’s dessert time, should I bring your favorite?”

My wife grinned. “If there are some extra, yes, please. Some for the boys too. I want them to give it a try.” Isla flicked a glance at Enzo and Amadeo. “Unless they’re scared.”

Both boys rolled their eyes. “We are not scared, but Italian desserts are first class. Russian… not so much.”

I pulled a chair out for my wife and she took her seat, her eyes sparkling like emeralds. “We shall see.” She looked to me for confirmation and I nodded. She leaned over to Enzo and Amadeo, whispering conspiratorially. “By the way, we have a surprise for you two.”

“Tell us.Adesso,” Enzo demanded. Now.

“Women hate to be bossed around.” Amadeo jabbed his shoulder into his older brother. “Sayper favore. Please.”

Enzo glared at his younger brother. “Girls like to be bossed around.”

“Maybe girls, but not women,” Kian remarked dryly. “And my niece is not yours to boss around.”

Enzo let out a heavy sigh. “I honestly don’t understand what is going on.”

“Do you want your surprise or not?” Isla demanded, diverting his attention from her newfound relative. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to both of them about Isla’s connection to the Brazilian cartel and caution them to keep it between us.

“Tell us,” Amadeo answered for his brother. “Per favore, Isla.”

Isla smiled, clapping her hands enthusiastically. “After dinner, we’re going to the opera house.”

The horror on the boys’ faces was comical. “Opera?” Enzo asked, his expression clearly stating he’d rather drown in icy, polar-bear-infested waters than listen to the opera.

Isla burst into laughter. “A concert is playing at the opera. Don’t worry, I won’t make you listen to a soprano singing opera. Not unless Athena’s singing.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Enzo,” both Isla and I warned at the same time. My wife’s gaze found mine for a flicker of a second, then returned to our son. “No cursing. If I can’t curse, then you can’t either.”

Okay, that wasn’t exactly the reprimand I expected, but I went along with it.

“I’ll take a rain check,” Manuel chimed in. “I dated an opera singer once. It brings back memories.”

“Zio Manuel has had a lot of girlfriends,” Enzo remarked seriously.

“That’s good to know,” Isla noted. “How about you, Uncle Kian? Did you have a lot of girlfriends?”

I winced at her question. Kian was notorious for his privacy. Everyone in the underworld knew it.