Chapter 20
CHANTEL
“Are you okay?”
“What?” I blink.
“You’ve been staring at that onesie for the last five minutes,” Abella points out.
“Oh.”
“She’s exhausted from getting dicked hard all night.” Serafina smirks.
“Yeah, probably,” I mumble, regretting my choice to send those emojis in the group chat earlier.
I didn’t really think through the follow-up questions, and I still haven’t fully processed everything that happened.
“Ugg,” Abella groans. “I have to pee again. I’ll be back in a few.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Val says. “I need to grab some water. Anyone else want anything?”
The rest of us tell them we’re good, and they wander down the hall, leaving me alone with Lucia and Serafina. Naturally, the moment she has the opportunity, Serafina pounces.
“Are you ever going to tell us who it was?” She eyes the bite mark on my neck.
“Does this have anything to do with what happened at Eden?” Lucia asks.
“Wait, what happened at Eden?” Sera glances between us.
“Cristian almost murdered Gio’s friend,” Lucia supplies.
“Why?”
“Because Chantel woke the devil inside him.” She laughs.
“Serious?” Sera’s brows shoot up.
“Yep.” Lucia studies me. “So, was it him?”
“No.” I blanche. “Nothing happened with him. He took me to his office and made me sit there while he went back to his date.”
“You can’t tell me that man wasn’t being territorial,” Lucia argues. “Everybody saw it. Tommy was practically pissing himself he got out of there so fast. And I really don’t think Cristian is into Jolie.”
I shrug, hoping it’s not obvious how uncomfortable it is to talk about this.
“They looked pretty cozy to me.”
“She did,” Lucia says. “But he never touched her. And after he basically kidnapped you, he didn’t even talk to her. I saw him arguing with Angelo for a few minutes, then Bastien sent Jolie off with one of her guards, and the three of them sat and talked for an hour.”
“Well, what he did or didn’t do is his business.” I refold the same onesie for the third time.
“He also rejected your dancer friend,” Serafina points out. “God, that was embarrassing.”
“Tiffany?” I frown.
“Yep.” Sera nods. “He asked her point blank if she was lost. She thought he was joking, but he definitely wasn’t. It took about a full minute of awkward silence for comprehension to sink in.”
“Even then, she tried to save face by leaving him her number in case he changed his mind.” Lucia grimaces. “I think she actually died a little inside when he told her that he wouldn’t. That man has a talent for delivering the driest insults I’ve ever heard.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that Tiffany lied about their interaction. She can’t fathom that anyone would reject her. But either way, it doesn’t matter, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.
“There’s nothing going on between Cristian and me,” I tell the girls. “The Vitales are just keeping an eye on me because of a creepy customer at the club. That’s all this is.”
“Oh.” Lucia deflates. “Well, I guess that makes sense. Are you okay? Is this creep someone we need to worry about?”
“I’m good,” I assure them. “He won’t get anywhere near me.”
“Not if the Vitales have anything to say about it,” Lucia agrees.
“Okay, but if you weren’t with Cristian last night, then who was it?” Sera asks.
“Bran.” I blow out a breath, ripping off that Band-Aid too while I’m at it.
“Bran?”
“It’s an alias from Sanctum. I’m Morrigan, and he’s Bran the Blessed.”
“The Raven King?” Lucia arches a brow at me.
“Raven?” I echo in confusion.
“Yeah.” She nods. “According to the myth, his head is buried on the hill where the Tower of London now stands. They still keep at least six ravens there, and there’s a superstition that if they ever leave, the Tower and kingdom will fall.”
A weird feeling settles in my gut as I consider the coincidence. There are only so many aliases to choose from, but it’s ironic that we both chose names tied to the same symbolism. His the Raven King, and mine the raven goddess.
“I have to say, that is an extremely random piece of information,” Sera observes.
“My mom made us go on pretty much every tour you can imagine while we were in London a few years ago.” Lucia shrugs. “I heard the story from a guide.”
“Hey.” Mariella pops her head in the door, glancing around the nursery. “Did I miss everything?”
“Sort of,” Sera answers apologetically. “It came together pretty quickly.”
“Well, that’s the price I pay for being a workaholic,” Mariella says. “But it looks beautiful.”
It really does. The room isn’t exactly what you’d expect in a typical nursery.
The space is soft and calming, with all wood furniture, sage green curtains, and frames of preserved greenery decorating the walls.
The paint is a neutral cream color, with the exception of one accent wall, which has a stunning mural of a black stag among the trees.
It’s a theme significant to the island’s history, but more importantly, to Angelo.
I’m not exactly sure what it means, but Abella mentioned that he credits the mysterious black stag for leading him back to her during the most tumultuous phase of their relationship.
Now, they’re paying homage to the creature by giving their son his soprannome of Il Cervo—the stag.
It’s a Vitale tradition, where a symbolic animal is chosen for each child to represent their personal qualities.
Usually, those names are decided after the baby is born, but in this case, they couldn’t imagine their first son being anything else.
During Abella’s pregnancies, I’ve learned that the Vitales have a lot of family heirlooms and traditions that get passed down.
The rocking chair in this room is the same one Nonna Vitale used to rock her babies, after which it was passed down to her daughter-in-law, and now, Abella.
There’s also a rosary that goes to the firstborn son of every patriarch, a signet ring with the Vitale crest, and a leather-bound book that includes the family history.
Being in this space reminds me how close the Vitale family really is, and in comparison, my own upbringing feels hollow.
After my mother died, I used to dream about getting adopted into a big family like this one.
Families who’d eat together every week and gather for the holidays and look after each other.
That’s exactly what the Vitales do. And even though they might squabble from time to time, their loyalty is unwavering.
It might seem like such a simple thing, but that’s all I ever really wanted. When I’m here, surrounded by the Vitales and my friends, it almost feels like a second home.
I hope I never lose that.
“Hey, you made it.” Abella wanders back into the room with Valentina trailing behind her.
“Looks like I missed all the fun, though,” Mariella replies.
“Not quite.” Abella smiles. “I did save one thing just for you.”
She walks to the cupboard and pulls out a framed print, handing it over to Mariella.
“Angelo already placed the mounting hardware,” Abella says. “But I thought you should do the honors, since you’re one of the OG’s.”
Mariella laughs, but as she studies the silhouettes of each symbolic Vitale animal, something in her softens. She’s not one to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but after our previous conversation, I suspect she’s reflecting on her own future.
Abella and Angelo are laying down roots, and everyone is genuinely so happy for them and their blossoming family. But it’s also a reminder how different the trajectories of our lives are.
“It’s beautiful,” Mariella says quietly. “I love it.”
We all watch as she hangs the print and takes a step back to examine it.
“Can you remind me who each of them belongs to?” Lucia asks. “I always forget.”
“Angelo is the lion, Romeo is the wolf, Rafe and Michele are the fox and the serpent, and I’m the nightingale,” Mariella explains. “Cristian is the raven.”
“Huh.” Lucia’s eyes flick to me, the wheels turning in her brain. “Interesting.”
“Yes, well, I’m starving,” Abella interjects. “Nonna has fed the guys already, so we have the dining table to ourselves. Should we go eat?”
A chorus of agreement follows, and ten minutes later, we’re sitting at the al fresco dining area with a feast fit for a king.
Nonna Vitale always outdoes herself, and I swear the woman lives to feed her family. But it makes her happy, and nobody’s going to argue with her about it—because they know better, and they all love her food.
Over the next hour, we eat and drink to our heart’s content, catching up on a variety of topics. The subject of interest today seems to be the Sterling’s yacht party that’s taking place this evening. The lingering question is whether Ares will show up to cause a stir over Mariella’s imaginary date.
Apparently, she’s deployed her best weapon against Ares, which is Romeo. He’s been busy creating fake identities of “suitors,” and the entire family is planting seeds about dates with different men.
From what I’ve heard, Ares has now shown up to three of these events, only to realize Mariella isn’t even there. And as much as I appreciate everything Ares has done for me, I have to admit, it is a little funny.
The man is obsessed, and Mariella has finally figured out how to beat him at his own game.
After a while, Angelo appears with Antonella, and she gets passed around the table as the men filter outside and gravitate toward the outdoor gym.
When I notice Cristian’s here, our eyes collide, and my stomach does a weird little flip.
He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants that hang loose on his hips, and a plain black T-shirt.
Against my better judgment, my gaze sweeps over him, cataloging the details of his height and build.
“See something interesting over there?” Lucia elbows me in the side.
I groan at the smirk on her face. “You need a hobby.”
“This is my hobby. I insert myself into everyone’s business.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
The conversation continues around the table, but I find myself overanalyzing every second of last night, my mind leaping from one conclusion to another.