Page 25

6 MONTHS LATER

DANTE

“This was dumb, I should just leave these in the car.” I stand with the passenger door open, gnawing on my bottom lip and staring at the container in my hands. “Nonna will probably be insulted that I brought dessert.”

Salvatore scoffs, wrapping his arms around me from behind and dragging me away from the car, kicking the door closed with his foot once I’m out of the way. His breath ghosts along my ear and down the exposed skin of my neck, and he nuzzles my earlobe.

“She’s going to be over the moon that you brought something. In Italian families, food is love.”

Even thinking about baking a batch of bunuelos the way my grandma taught me was harder than I expected it to be. As much as I wanted everything with Don to be the end of that chapter, it’s not always as simple as that. I spent so many years turning my back on the people who turned their backs on me first, but the more time I’ve spent around the Morettis, and especially Salvatore’s Nonna, it’s made me realize that I don’t want to forget everything about where I came from. It’s a process, and making this dessert felt like an important step to acknowledge it.

“I’m not letting you leave these in the car,” Sal says firmly.

“Fine,” I grumble, mostly because I don’t want him to know how much I appreciate him taking the decision out of my hands.

He kisses the side of my neck and takes the container from me, then grabs my hand. He runs the pad of his thumb along the smooth, warm metal of my wedding band. I’m never even sure if he knows he’s doing it, but it’s a cute habit he’s picked up every time he holds my left hand. My heart gives a little flutter and I don’t even try to fight the smile that spreads over my face.

The door swings open before we even reach it, and Nonna greets us with a smile.

“Angioletto.” She throws her arms open and pulls me in for a hug. I laugh and hug her back. I can’t believe she’s adopted Salvatore’s nickname for me. She’s such a sweet old lady, I can’t even bring myself to tell her to stop. Maybe it’s even a little nice to feel like I’m part of such a big, chaotic family again.

“Nonna, Dante made dessert.” Sal rattles the container.

She hugs me even tighter before she lets me go. “Perfect. I think Lorenzo has already been sticking his fingers in the tiramisu anyway.”

“Have not,” Lorenzo calls from somewhere inside the house.

I sputter a laugh. It’s hard to get over the disconnect of seeing Lorenzo at his Nonna’s house for Sunday dinners. The stoic head of the Moretti Crime Family eating more green beans at his grandmother’s insistence and blushing when she tells him he’s too skinny.

“He has too, Nonna, I saw him do it,” Sparrow tattles gleefully.

Nonna just shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you boys?”

She takes the container from Salvatore and leads us inside. As always, it’s noisy and warm, and the smell of garlic and tomatoes makes my mouth water.

“Tell me about your dance studio. Is it open yet?” she asks.

“Not yet, but soon. The renovations just finished this week, and I’ve got the schedule of classes I want to start with all set, so now I just have to launch the website and hope for the best.”

“You’ll do great,” she assures me, patting my cheek.

“Thanks, Nonna.”

Salvatore greets everyone else with hugs, all of them thumping each other’s backs as if they don’t see each other every day of the week. I think it’s different for him too to spend time with his family at Sunday dinner. Sparrow pulls me into conversation, telling me about some new ideas he had for a cover-up tattoo for the brand on my arm.

I drag my fingers over the raised word absently, tracing the letters without any thought. Maybe I will see if I can cover it up one day, or maybe I won’t. I’ve never been ashamed of protecting Luis the way I did. In a twisted way, the brand feels like a badge of honor, a reminder of how far I’m willing to go to protect the people I care about.

I look around the room full of mafiosos and Salvatore catches my eye, his gaze full of all the love and intensity I’ve learned to not only trust but crave from him. For the first time in my life, I have the kind of family that’s willing to go just as far to protect me.

I love you , I mouth, and he smiles so wide it makes my heart somersault.

“God, you turned into such a sap,” Sparrow teases.

“Don’t make me bite you just to prove I’m still feral,” I say blandly, and he throws his head back and laughs.

It’s a fucked up family to be sure, but they’re mine, and if I have to, I’ll burn the world down for every last one of them.

The End

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