Chapter Thirty Three, Home Sweet Home
I held Heather’s hand tightly as we walked up the gravel drive to my family’s home.
The long, sloping driveway was bordered by towering cypress trees, their shadows stretching across the stone path as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky.
The mansion stood as it always had—pristine, imposing, far too ostentatious. But as I approached, it felt different.
Softer. Less intimidating.
Like something wicked that roamed the halls had been vanquished, letting in all the light once more.
Atlas walked behind us, silent as a mouse, like usual.
Heather, sensing my tension, gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I looked down at her, her big brown eyes full of quiet strength.
She didn’t have to say anything; her presence was enough.
It made me feel a little calmer about the reunion that was about to happen.
Made me feel a little calmer knowing that I was not Reaper anymore.
I was Giovanni. Just Giovanni.
When we reached the wide stone steps leading up to the front door, I hesitated. Only for a moment, but long enough for Heather to tilt her head and study me.
“Gio,” she said softly, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied, forcing a small smile. “Just weird. Being here, I mean.”
Before she could respond, the door opened. It was practically yanked off its hinges, the person on the other side clearly eager to get it wide.
My mama stood there, regal as ever, in a black pantsuit and heels.
She looked exactly as I remembered: her dark red hair swept into a neat bun, her gold earrings catching the sunlight, her expression equal parts joy and expectation.
Her green eyes lit up when she saw me, and without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped me in a tight embrace.
“Gio!” She squealed. “You’re here!”
“Hi, mama,” my voice was rough as I held her tight.
Her arms lingered around me a moment longer before she pulled back, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. Her gaze flicked behind me to Heather and Atlas, curiosity blooming on her face. I could see the questions forming in her mind, but she didn’t ask them—at least, not yet.
I gestured toward Heather first. “This is Heather,” I said, my voice steady. “My girlfriend. You met her once or twice at my nightclub, I think.”
Heather smiled and stepped forward, extending her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs De Luca.”
My mother ignored the hand entirely, pulling Heather into a hug instead as she insisted my girl call her Chesca. Heather froze for a split second, caught off guard, before relaxing into the embrace.
“Oh, she’s beautiful!” Mama exclaimed, stepping back and holding my girl by the shoulders to look at her.
“Look at you! Gio, you didn’t tell me she was so sweet!
” She grinned harder. “Oh, we are going to have so much fun together, cara. I always wanted more daughters; I don’t think I could ever have enough. ”
Heather laughed nervously, her cheeks flushing. “Thank you. I’m happy to be here too. And do stuff. Whatever you want,” she blurted out as I hurried to get introductions over so we could get to the business that was gnawing at my gut.
“And this,” I said, turning slightly toward Atlas, “is Atlas. My boyfriend.”
There was a beat of silence, just long enough for me to notice the flicker of surprise in my mother’s eyes at the idea of such a relationship. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a warm smile. She stepped toward Atlas with just as much ease.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Atlas,” she grabbed him too, pulling him in for a hug just as hard as she gushed.
“You’re very handsome!” She looked him up and down.
No care for his tattoos, or weapons, or the violence that would never leave his eyes.
“Oh, I have so many questions for you, figlio. My Emi told me you were from Russia, and I always wanted to go! I think the snow suits me far more than sunshine.”
Atlas nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he offered placations and niceties that he never normally had.
It was odd, seeing him be so… polite. Not that he was ever rude. But he seemed the most normal I had ever known him, and it was bizarre.
My mama’s gaze lingered on the three of us for a moment. Then she smiled again, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said, her eyes shining. “I’ve missed you, Gio.”
“I missed you too, mama.” I hesitated, then added, “Did you call everyone home?”
Her expression faltered, just slightly. She glanced over her shoulder, as if she could see the dining room from here, then back at me. “Yes, of course,” she said. “The little ones are playing in the parlor. The rest are in the dining room, waiting for you.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Good. Let’s not keep them waiting.”
She stepped aside, and I led Heather and Atlas into the house. The familiar scent of polished wood and faintly lingering incense hit me immediately, and I felt a strange pang of nostalgia. It was the same house, the same walls, but everything felt… different.
Could a house know that the evil had been banished from within its walls?
The dining room door was slightly ajar when we reached it. I pushed it open, stepping inside with Heather and Atlas close behind me.
The table was exactly as I remembered—long, heavy, and impossibly formal, just as my father had always wanted.
Most of my siblings were already seated, their conversations falling silent the moment they saw me.
Their gazes flicked to Heather, then to Atlas, their expressions ranging from curiosity to confusion.
At the head of the table, the seat that had always belonged to my father stood empty.
I walked to it without hesitation, pulling the chair out and sitting down.
It felt strange, unnatural, but I didn’t let it show.
Heather hesitated, glancing at me, but I tugged her gently onto my lap.
Her blush was immediate, but she didn’t resist, her hands settling on my shoulder for balance.
Atlas took his place beside me, standing tall and steady, his hand resting lightly on the back of my chair.
He had enough weapons on his body to cause a stir, but they were just his way of playing games. He would never have needed to use them.
The thick silence stretched as each of my siblings stared at me, waiting for me to make the first move. There were a billion things I wanted to say to them, but nothing seemed good enough, so I started with the obvious.
“I’m back.” I breathed. “But you know I’m not staying. I have to stay away and leave Emilio in charge for now.” I inclined my head to him, and he nodded back as he nursed a glass of something dark.
“I’m only boss for show.” He drawled. “But I’ll do my best not to get us all killed.”
Heather snorted, and he winked at her.
“For those of you who haven’t met them,” I waved to her and Atlas, “this is Heather, my girlfriend, and Atlas, my boyfriend.”
The murmurs began immediately, and Dante was the first to speak, his light voice cutting through the noise.
“Both?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow with the sass only a teenager could pull off. “You’re so greedy, Gio.” He smirked at Heather. “I could take you off his hands, bella. I’m far more fun, and I’m not decrepit yet.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but Arabelle smacked his arm lightly as she flicked a lock of dark red hair over her shoulder. “Don’t start,” she said, before she turned and smiled. “Hi, Heather. Hi, Atlas. I’m Arabelle. I’m Gio’s favorite sister.”
“Bullshit. I’m the favorite.” Aurora cut in, her dark eyes narrowed at her older sister. “But hi! It’s nice to meet you both.”
One by one, my siblings introduced themselves, with nothing but warmth and happiness in the air, until I knew I had to dash it, and deal with the real reasons I came home.
I took a deep breath and dropped the bomb.
“Our father is dead,” I said bluntly. “It happened a few days ago.”
The reaction was immediate. Gasps, sharp intakes of breath, widened eyes.
My mother leaned forward, her expression darkening.
Vincente’s jaw tightened. Arabelle and Idalia exchanged uneasy glances while Rory stared at me, her grin vanishing, replaced with something…
something like relief. Dante’s mouth fell wide, and only Emilio remained the same. But he already knew the truth.
Before anyone could speak, I continued.
“Though Emilio will be the face of things, I am the new head of this family,” I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. “And before anyone starts asking questions, let me make one thing clear—our uncles are coming. All of them. And they are not here for pleasantries and small talk.”
A tense silence fell over the room. Emilio’s eyes narrowed, his fingers tapping against the table.
Vincente frowned, his gaze dropping to the wood grain in front of him.
Even Arabelle, usually the most optimistic of us, looked worried.
As though she was about to get sent straight back to the hellhole I’d pulled her from the morning after my father’s death.
“They’ll expect us to be weak,” I said, leaning forward slightly.
“They’ll think they can step in and take over.
But I’m not going to let that happen. And neither should you.
” I looked at my mama, knowing she was the most at risk.
“They will want you to marry right away. No doubt Uncle Salvatore will offer himself up. Which means you need to find someone to marry first. I don’t care who, so long as he is kind to you.
And the second my uncles return home or are dealt with; you can get a divorce and do whatever you please. ”
Mama nodded, and I let the words hang in the air, giving them time to sink in. Then I softened my tone, glancing around the table.
“But before we deal with that,” I said, “I need to know—what can I fix that our father ruined? What can I do now to make sure there is nothing but truth and strength between us?” My chest was tight.
“I should have stepped up years ago. Should have made sure none of us had to deal with him. But I was… I didn’t do it then.
But I am doing it now. And I will make sure that you get to do the things you want to do, and you do not spend another moment of your lives suffering because of that man. ”
The question seemed to catch them off guard. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Vincente cleared his throat.
“That’s… a long list,” he said.
“Then we start at the top,” I replied.
Arabelle leaned forward. “What about the kids?” she asked softly. “Do we tell them any of this, or leave them in peace? They would be in the most danger here, Gio.”
My eyes flicked toward the door, where I knew Elio, Mariella, and Violetta were playing in the parlor.
“I’ll protect them,” I said firmly. “I’ll protect all of you. But I need your help. That’s why I’m here.”
The silence that followed was heavy, but I didn’t push them. They needed time to process, and eventually, when their shock died down, they spoke.
List after list. Word after word. Crime after crime. All of it mashed together into one giant mission that lay ahead. Not that I minded so much, in a way. With my girl on my lap, my man beside me, and my family nearby, it kind of felt easy in a way.
I could do this. Whatever happened.
I was sure it would all be fine…