50. Ravenna
Ravenna
T ragedy has struck my family again. My uncle Davide is dead.
While the loss of him is greatly felt by all, it could have been worse.
That terrible day, I could have also lost both my aunt and Gin.
Thank God they’re safe. Although I can’t help but wonder how Aunt Rosa is coping.
She’s a much stronger woman than my mother was, so I think she’ll grieve but ultimately be okay.
Aunt Rosa’s home hosts the after funeral service. The place is packed with mafiosos and their wives. Everyone from the other family’s leaders, to foot soldiers have turned out to pay their respects and mourn.
But there’s one face I don’t immediately recognize.
A newcomer. He’s tall, almost as tall as Cian, but completely the opposite in coloring.
His skin’s a deep bronzed tan, with wavy black hair, and the most stunning blue-green eyes I’ve ever seen.
A short, trimmed beard adds a kind of maturity to his look.
He’d appear more boyish without the facial hair.
He glances my way, then does a double-take. His dark brow furrows. Seeming to make up his mind, he stalks my way.
“Ravenna,” he cautiously says, though it’s far from a question.
“Yes. Ravenna O’Rourke. I assume you know my sister.” I offer my hand and he shakes it.
“I do. I’m Maximo Pontrelli.” He has a smooth Italian accent.
“Nice to meet you. So, I’m guessing we’re distantly related.”
He bobs his head. “We are. Our fathers were cousins.”
“Which makes you my second cousin.” I muse.
“That’s correct. I’m deeply sorry for your loss. I did not know don Davide well at all, but my father spoke highly of him. I did make a study of the family tree a while ago. You had a brother who also passed on, I believe.”
“Yes. Matteo.” I try not to grimace as I speak his name. I haven’t spared my dead brother a thought in a very long time.
“Right. Had he lived, he would have been don after your father’s passing, and certainly after your uncle’s early grave. Since you have no more male relatives in this country, it seems I’m next in line.”
“Next in line… to be don of the Pontrelli family?” I clarify.
“You seem surprised.”
“I am.”
“Why, may I ask?”
“You’re so… young. Probably the youngest don we’ve ever had.”
He grunts, though he doesn’t seem irritated, just confirming my assumption. “That may be true. But I have prepared to be don all my life. My father raised me and my brothers to take on this responsibility. I assure you, I’m ready even though I am younger than most expect.”
I’d wish him luck, but that seems inappropriate.
I just hope the other dons don’t eat him for lunch.
It’s a tough city and the families don’t often welcome outsiders into positions of power, even if they are blood relatives.
To them, this man hasn’t proven himself at all.
He’s a wild card. He’s going to have an uphill battle carving out a reputation for himself while holding on to the power he’s been handed on a gold platter.
“Well, welcome to New York,” I finally say. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.”
“It was nice to make your acquaintance.” He wanders off, speaking to others in the room.
“Who is he?” Cian’s deep voice rumbles behind me.
“The new don Pontrelli.” I face him. “Which means he’s your newest ally.”
Cian’s gaze follows Maximo around the room. “Do you think he’s even thirty years old?”
“Barely. But he seems serious and mature enough.”
Hopefully he’s not hiding some psychotic or deranged behaviors under that handsome facade. Everyone thought Matteo was a charming young man, because they never saw beneath the surface to his rotten soul. I pray to god that Maximo is nothing like my brother. Our family wouldn’t survive it.
K eeping true to the whirlwind that is my life these days, my boss calls that weekend, confirming that Devlin did put in a good word for me.
“Mrs. O’Rourke, I’d like to hire you into a new position at the agency. If it’s agreeable to you.”
“Yes, I’d love it. I accept!”
“If only all of my employees were as happy to come to work as you.” Ms. Ryan chuckles. “I haven’t told you what the position entails yet.”
“Oh. Go ahead.” Honestly, it doesn’t matter. I’d mop floors on my hands and knees if that’s the job, and do it without complaint. I just need a sense of purpose.
“Apart from… that incident, you’re a diligent worker. I’d like to offer you the position of my personal assistant. Heather’s on maternity leave and doesn’t know if she’ll be rejoining the workforce, so I’m hiring her replacement. Does it interest you?”
“Yes. Just send me a list of my duties and I’ll be there Monday morning.”
“I’ll email you the details. I look forward to working more closely with you, Ravenna.” She hangs up, leaving me grinning at the wall like I’ve lost my mind.
I have a job! I’m even being promoted. Didn’t see that coming.
Cian steps into the room. He takes one look at me and his features soften. “Good news?”
“Yes! My old boss offered me a job as her personal assistant. I’m heading back into the office on Monday.”
“That’s excellent. I’m so proud of you.” He seems sincere.
I beam up at him. “How about we go for a celebratory dinner tonight?”
“I’ll book us a reservation.”
A fter all this time, I think I’d be immune to how people stare at my husband’s scars. News flash: I’m not. The way people openly gape at him as we make our way through Spades to our private table fills me with fury. It’s so rude.
More importantly, I notice the tinge of pink crawling up Cian’s neck. He’s still affected by it, too.
Gritting my teeth and glaring, I’m grateful when we finally sit down at a secluded table with a wonderful view of the city. We’re back in our little bubble again, where it’s just us and we can ignore the rest of society.
As soon as I sit down, I notice the purple tulip centerpiece. I don’t recall my favorite flower on any of the other tables we passed.
“They’re a custom request,” Cian explains, studying the menu. “I wanted to make tonight special.”
My stomach swoops and dives. This was a last minute reservation, how on earth did he have time to put in a custom request?
I lean forward to better smell the floral arrangement, noting lavender and foxglove among the tulips. “That’s so sweet of you. I love them.”
A grin touches his lips as he lowers the menu. “I want to earn your happiness every single day. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. Now that my mind isn’t so cloudy, I like to envision our future together.”
“Oh? What does that look like?” I’m extremely curious about how Cian sees us.
He clears his throat, indicating he’s nervous. “I see two possibilities. One where it’s just the two of us loving each other every day, traveling to any historical sight that intrigues you, and retiring in a lakeside cottage.”
“Mmm, that sounds pretty fantastic. What’s the other possibility?”
Our server appears, taking our drink orders. A merlot for me, and a whiskey for Cian.
As soon as we have our privacy again, he reaches for my hand and continues, “The other version’s very similar, except in this one we adopt a baby.”
My heart lurches. “You’d be open to adopting?”
Many people in our world aren’t willing to do such a thing. Most men are too concerned about their legacy, about passing on not only their name but their bloodline. Therefore adoption is out of the question unless it’s an orphaned close relative.
Cian dips his chin—an affirmative. He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers.
“For your happiness, I’d do anything. I know you’ve taken this job at the agency to fill a void.
To give your life a sense of purpose. You deserve to be a mother, broc meala .
I’ll do anything in my power to make that happen. ”
I’m at a loss for words. He’s serious. I feel so giddy, so full of hope that I could float away.
“Would you be willing to try some medical solutions before looking into adoption?” I tentatively ask. Unsure, since it can be invasive.
Call me old fashioned, but my deepest desire is to have his child. I want a mini Cian running around.
“Yes. Anything.” He leans forward, brushing his lips against mine. “I’ll make an appointment for us next week.”
My chest swells. Finally, after all of our trials and tribulations, I have my Irlandese back—the man I originally fell in love with.