CHAPTER 20
MIA
The next day , I told myself I was just visiting Laura to get the awkwardness over with—but honestly, I think a part of me just missed her and didn’t know what to do with the feeling.
I stare at Zane and then glance up at my sister’s mansion, my jaw dropping.
It’s huge.
Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, but somehow cozy, like it was custom-made for her. The architecture looks like something out of an old movie—royalty with a touch of modern softness. There’s a cute tree in the yard and a playground next door.
My sister’s children. My family..
My chest tightens with the reality of this. I have nephews. I have a sister.
“Are you going to be okay?” Zane asks beside me, his calm voice that sometimes makes me want to shake him. “If you want me to stay, I will.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, not taking my eyes off the house. “It’s Laura. I trust her.”
“I know she won’t hurt you, Mia, but that’s not all I’m talking about.” He hesitates, his gaze intense, as if he knows exactly what I’m feeling before I even understand it. “If you need me in there, I’ll be there for you.”
I smile, my chest warming. I don’t deserve him.
“No, you deserve more,” Zane whispers, as if he’s read my mind.
My heart pounds. Why does he do this? Why does he always say these things that make me so vulnerable?
“Stop putting yourself down,” I say, trying to sound firm, but my voice wavers. “You’re strong, you’re enough, and I—like… I like you for who you are.”
Zane smiles at the corner of his mouth, that perceptive little smile, because he noticed.
He always notices.
I almost said I love him.
Should I have said it? I feel it. I know I feel it.
“If you need me, I won’t be far,” he says, returning to his practical tone. “Try to have fun with the brats.”
“Try to have fun with Liam,” I tease, my smile mischievous, and I notice the way his shoulders tense.
He doesn't deny it.
“And the black hair? How are you going to explain that?” I ask, tilting my head to study the dark strands.
“It’s not real dye.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s a temporary cream. If I wash it out, it’ll go back to normal.”
My eyes light up. “That’s really cool! I didn’t know that existed!”
“You can buy as many colors as you want if you agree to go home where it’s safe.”
My face falls. “You know I can’t, Zane. My father is dangerous.You go back.”
He clenches his jaw, frustration clear in his posture. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Silence. I take a deep breath.
Great, let’s fight again.
Before he can respond, I chime in, changing my tone. “Hey, wait. You’re going to see your brother and nephew. That’s exciting! You like Liam, right? It’ll be fun! You can smile a little.”
Zane snorts, looking away, but I catch the corner of his mouth twitch, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“I smile,” he murmurs.
“Not that ‘I’m a mysterious, suffering artist’ smile.” I mimic his frown and then give an exaggerated grin. “A real smile.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just go.”
I laugh, the sound light and unsteady, and without thinking, I lean in, my lips brushing against his cheek. But just as my lips make contact, his gaze shifts, locking with mine—deep, intense, that familiar pull.
His eyes hold me in place, daring me to come closer, to let him take the kiss further. It’s a challenge.
A promise.
Then my mouth is on his.
He kisses me fiercely, like he's staking a claim, like he wants more than just my mouth—he wants all of me. His lips are demanding, his grip firm as he pulls me closer, molding me against him.
There's nothing soft about it; it's raw, intoxicating, a collision of heat and hunger that makes my breath hitch.
His fingers dig into my waist, possessive, like he's memorizing the shape of me, like letting go isn't an option. And for a moment, caught in the urgency of him, I don't want him to.
With a sharp exhale, he pulls away. His hands flex by his sides, and I can feel the distance he’s putting between us, the walls he’s built so damn high. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t need to. His silence speaks louder than anything, the tension hanging thick between us.
I step back, my heart pounding in my chest. Every inch of me longs to stay, to push against that wall he’s so carefully constructed, but I turn my back instead.
I walk away, each step a battle against the pull of him, against the desire that burns in my veins.\
But I keep walking toward the mansion
My heart races. Because for a moment the kiss made me forget.
My sister is in there. My family.
Seth set up this meeting with Laura after I accidentally let it slip that things had become complicated when it came to seeing her these days. Zane, as always, made sure I was safe, taking extra precautions to ensure I could slip into enemy territory without my father catching wind of it. He covered every angle, every detail, as though nothing could go wrong, even though everything about this felt like walking on a razor's edge.
I take a deep breath and walk inside.
The door closes behind me, and the air inside the mansion smells woody and clean, but there’s something else. Something warm. Familiar in a way I didn’t expect.
Then I hear a soft sound. Children’s giggles.
I turn my head and see two babies sitting on the living room rug. A little dark-haired boy with green eyes, holding a wooden block with a serious look of concentration. And a little blonde girl, also with green eyes, biting a toy while looking at me, curious.
My heart tightens.
My nephews.
For a moment, I stand there, unsure of what to do. They don’t even know me.
Laura is in there with them, playing, her presence is quiet. She looks at me, grinning, her forest green eyes gleaming with a soft, captivating gaze as she walks toward me.
"Edoardo. Eleonora."
They both look at her at the same time.
“Come.”
Edo hesitates for a second, then drops the pad and struggles to his feet, waddling toward her with determination. Eleonora lingers a little longer, watching me with an appraising gaze—until she decides it’s worth following her brother. But instead of walking confidently, she clings to the furniture as she moves toward Laura.
Laura crouches down and lets them touch her. Their touch is careful but natural, as if it were a part of her.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur, unable to help myself.
She stares at me with those sharp eyes, analyzing my expression.
“They are.”
I approach slowly and crouch down next to them. Edo looks at me curiously before extending a small arm toward me, as if testing whether I’m real.
My heart melts.
I take his little hand and squeeze it lightly.
“Hi, Edoardo,” I say quietly.
He doesn’t say anything, but he studies me seriously, as if he’s trying to figure me out.
Eleonora tilts her head, still holding the toy. Then she lets go and crawls toward me, touching my knee as if to say, "What about you?"
I laugh, excited.
“Hi, Eleonora.”
She rests her head on my leg and stays there.
I plop down on the soft carpet in the living room, the twins sitting on either side of me, their green eyes shining with curiosity. Edo holds a toy that looks fascinating to him—a colorful block that he insists on chewing—while Eleonora plays with my hair, pulling at a few strands as if she’s analyzing the texture. I know the mix of black and white must seem strange to her.
I never thought I would like children so much.
Until I met my nephews.
Maybe if you weren’t so messed up in the head, you could have yours.
No, I don’t see myself as a mother.
I don’t think that life is meant for me. The idea of nurturing, of being the steady force a child needs—it feels out of reach.
I can’t imagine myself in that role, not with how unpredictable my mind can be. Raising a child requires a kind of stability and presence that I often feel I'm lacking.
Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed by the noise in my head, the constant shifting of thoughts, and I know it’s not something I could bring a child into.
Motherhood is about giving, about being a constant, and I can barely keep myself steady on my own two feet.
The emotional weight would be too much.
I don’t think I could give a child the consistency they need, and I don't want to risk failing them when I’m already struggling to understand myself.
Besides, not everyone feels that pull or is ready to dive into that kind of responsibility, and there’s no shame in that. It doesn’t make us less whole or less capable. It just means our realities are different, and that’s completely okay
It doesn’t mean I don’t love my nephews, and being with them doesn’t give me a little baby fever.
“You already know you’re the cutest little things in the world, right?” I say, tilting my face so Eleonora can play more.
She lets out a little laugh, her round cheeks becoming even more squeezable.
Edo looks at me thoughtfully and then extends the book toward me.
“Oh? Is this for me?” I place a hand on my chest, dramatically moved. “Do you want to share it with me? My heart can’t handle so much cuteness.”
Edo continues to hold the book toward me, and when I accept it, he claps his hands, satisfied.
“Okay, little bunnies,” I say, settling in more comfortably. “Want a story?”
They don’t respond—obviously. Right, Mia? They’re eleven months old.
But their watchful little eyes tell me they are curious.
“Once upon a time… there was a raven and a wolf!” I pause dramatically. “The raven was very clever, full of ideas and dreams, and the wolf was very protective and loved to pretend it didn’t care, but deep down, it loved the raven.”
Eleonora tilts her head, staring at me with concentration. Edo crawls toward me and rests on my lap.
“The raven loved to fly and explore the world, but one day it fell into a strange, dark place.”
The twins blink, absorbing my excitement.
“But do you know what happened?”
I smile before continuing.
“The wolf came! He ran, he jumped, he howled at the moon and saved the raven, because deep down, he would never leave his friend alone.”
He would never leave me alone.
Eleonora gives a happy little cry, clapping her little hands. Edo smiles broadly, with that toothless expression that warms my heart.
“Then the raven and the wolf went home together and lived happily, protecting each other.”
Not really, but a girl can dream.
Edo rests his little head on my chest, his small, warm body nestling against me. Eleonora soon does the same, letting out a cute sigh before closing her eyes.
My chest tightens, and a soft smile forms on my face.
I rock them lightly, feeling their comfortable weight on me.
“You’re my new team now, you know?” I whisper. “My special twin squad. And I know how cool it is to have a twin. So take care of each other, okay?”
No response, just the calm, rhythmic breathing of the two.
And then I realize that, for the first time in a long time, I feel… at home.
Laura watches the scene without saying anything.
I snuggle into the couch as the twins sleep on top of me, their small bodies warming my lap. Edo is completely relaxed, his little face serene, while Eleonora has her little fingers closed around the collar of my skirt, as if refusing to let go. My heart tightens in a way I didn’t expect.
“Can I keep them like this forever?” I murmur, looking at Laura.
She stares at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Technically, no. They need to eat, be active, develop motor and cognitive skills..."
I make an indignant sound. "I was being emotional, Laura."
"I know."
I suspect she doesn't entirely understand, but that's okay.
I play with Edo's soft hair. "They're perfect."
Laura doesn't answer right away. Then, in a casual tone, she asks, "What was it like when you were growing up?"
My hand pauses.
I look at her, a little surprised by the question. I don't think Laura is the type to ask without a reason.
"Happy, when I had Seth... and then empty," I reply after a moment.
She tilts her head, absorbing my answer. "What now?"
I smile a little, looking at the little ones. "Now it's... more."
I can't say I'm happy—not while my life is still tied to Nico Riviera.
Laura watches my face, her sharp eyes analyzing every little change in my expression.
"You get attached quickly."
I shrug. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily. But it is dangerous."
I roll my eyes. "Okay, now you sound like Zane."
Laura crosses her arms. "I just notice patterns, Mia."
I feel my body stiffen a little. She always does that—throws a remark out there and waits for me to give in on my own.
"What patterns?"
Laura hesitates, then leans forward slightly, her voice lowering. "You put others before yourself all the time."
"So we're talking about Zane now?" My voice turns defensive.
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
She continues, unflinching. "Not just him. You sacrifice your safety, your happiness, your freedom, even your sanity, for others. It's as if you exist more for others than for yourself."
My chest tightens.
I let out a short laugh. "That was pretty intense, Laura."
"It's just a fact."
My throat feels strangely dry. I look down at the babies in my arms, Eleonora's small hand still clutching my shirt, and try to find something to say that won't make me feel so... exposed.
Laura watches my reaction, then sighs. "You don't have to answer," she says. "Just think about it."
I open my mouth to retort, but I realize that would only prove her point.
So instead, I take a deep breath.
And I realize that the twins are sleeping heavily on top of me, their little feet moving lightly in their dreams.
I smile, feeling warmth spread inside my chest.
Laura watches the scene for a moment longer, then stands up. "Wait here," she says.
I take the opportunity to put them in their strollers so they can sleep more peacefully.
When she returns, she is carrying a tray.
I look, and my breath catches.
"Are those mini waffles?" My voice is filled with delight, even enough to surprise Laura.
"Yes. Zane mentioned you liked them."
I stare, completely mesmerized. There are waffles, cookies, and cupcakes, all arranged in an organized, yet loving way.
Laura looks away.
"And also because... I thought you might like your comfort food." She arranges the waffles with almost surgical precision. "Studies show that familiar meals associated with good memories can make it easier to adapt to new environments, especially during stressful situations."
My chest tightens again.
Before she can protest, I hug her.
"I love you, little sister," I murmur, feeling my nose burn.
Laura tenses for a moment, then relaxes—just a little.
And then, with a grumble, she says, "I love you too."
"It’s okay," I say, still holding her tight.
"You can let go now," she says softly.
"Just five more minutes."
She lets out an audible sigh but doesn't push me away.
"While we're here, you can tell me what life is like back in that Cartel hellhole."
"Tell me about it, it's horrible and—WAIT!" My body freezes before I can stop myself. I pull away suddenly, staring at her face. "How do you know?"
Laura smiles, and it's that calculated smile of hers, which means she's known this for a long time.
"Don’t insult my intelligence, Mia. I recognize patterns."
My heart races.
"Hence my speech about you sacrificing yourself for others," she continues, unhurriedly. "Someone is threatening you, right?"
Fuck.
I sit back down, feeling a weight on my chest. It's strange, because part of me wants her to know.
Because if anyone can understand this, it’s her.
So I tell her everything. About Paulina. About Zane. About not wanting Seth in our father's sights.
Laura listens in silence. No interruptions, no premature judgments. Her eyes analyze every word I say, processing the information like a state-of-the-art computer.
When I finish, she lets out a thoughtful hmm, tilting her head.
"Nico is one of the most dangerous mobsters in the country, but do you know what else he is?" She looks at me. "A man with a weakened empire. The Cartel is no longer what it used to be. The Society of Crow’s alliance with Cosa Nostra has ensured that."
My mind races to keep up.
"If you wanted to come home, Mia, no one would hurt you."
The air escapes me.
"That’s not true," I whisper, and a shiver runs down my spine. "You have no idea what he’s capable of. You and Seth tend to forget that I grew up with him the longest."
I’ve seen all the horrors. I’ve killed many innocent people. If they think others will just accept me... they’re mistaken.
They’re going to kill me.
Yes, they will kill you. Your sister could be one of them.
"Stop! She’s not!" I say aloud, and Laura’s eyes widen. I quickly apologize.
It's not a good time to be tormented by voices.
Laura watches me for a few seconds, then tilts her head, as if studying an equation.
"I’m not invalidating your experience," she says matter-of-factly. "But I’m looking at facts. Facts tell me that you don’t have to live with Nico anymore. The fear you feel? That’s subjective. Your brain’s defense system based on the past, not the present."
I purse my lips.
"Fear is not irrational, Laura."
Even more so when no one knows about Katie. Even more so when no one understands what it's like to fight for the life of the only person who truly loved you in that place. And knowing that if you make one wrong move, it will cost her, like it has all these years.
Laura will always rationalize everything, see things logically. That’s how she views the world.
But I’m not like that. I’ll always fight for those I love. My emotions will always take over me. I don’t control them; they control me. Nico controls them. He always made sure of that.
"I never said it was. But it is interpretable. If you analyze it rationally, you’ll realize that we can actually help you… you just need to let us."
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Sure. I just need to rationalize everything and return to the Society’s territory."
And then leave Katie to suffer through it as punishment. Leave Zane to be haunted for the rest of his life. Put Seth in my father’s crosshairs.
Laura blinks, looking unaffected.
"Exactly."
No.
I stare at her. She can’t be serious.
But then I remember that yes, she can.
She is Laura.
Sometimes it seems like she can’t see beyond the facts.
My chest tightens, because part of me knows she’s right.
But another part… another part knows there are things much bigger than facts.
Like I said, unlike Laura and my brother, I was raised a Riviera my entire life, and I’m not proud of it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what they’re capable of.
She knows I won’t change my mind now. Instead of insisting, she just watches me, evaluating my silence.
"Don’t tell Seth." I ask, remembering this important part.
"He probably suspects."
"Laura."
"Mia," my sister leans back in her chair without wavering, her eyes holding a calculating gleam.
I cross my arms. "Have you always been this stubborn, or has living in the Italian mafia done that to you?"
"Being responsible for the lives of many does that to you."
I roll my eyes. "Please."
Laura sighs, as if she already knows I won’t give up.
"I won’t tell Seth. But I won’t deny it if he finds out."
Okay. I can work with that. I’ll be more careful.
But there’s something else. Something important.
My chest tightens when I look at her.
"I need you to promise me something," I murmur.
Laura raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.
I swallow hard.
“If you need to save me…” My voice trails off, but I force myself to continue. “Save Zane first.”
She blinks.
“Get him out of there. Make sure that, in the end, he lives.”
“Mia.”
“I know you have that power,” I whisper, my heart racing. “And I know you would do whatever it takes.”
She stares at me for a few seconds, then takes something out of her pocket and places it in my hand.
“It’s a necklace,” she explains. “If you need help, press the back, and I’ll know you’re in danger.”
I hold the pendant between my fingers.
“Only if you promise to help him first,” I negotiate.
“Mia,” she says, her tone a warning.
“Promise me, Laura.”
She lets out a sigh, running her hand over her face as if I were the greatest enigma she’d ever encountered.
“Okay! I’ll help him first.”
A warm relief spreads through my chest.
“I know there’s more…” my sister whispers, and my eyes widen. “I know about her , Mia. You may think I only see logic here, but I won’t force your decision. It’s yours. Whether you stay there or not, whether you do what needs to be done or not—that’s your choice. I’d never take it away from you.”
“Then you won’t interfere?”
“Only if you ask me to. I want you to know that I’m prepared to step in whenever you’re ready to accept my help. But in the meantime, I respect your decision.”
“You should try to put that same thought into Seth.”
“He’s scared of losing the things that matter to him,” Laura explains. “It’s scary to have things to lose… trust me. When you grow up repressing who you are, pushing your feelings away, and internalizing them to the point they consume you when they resurface. Seth has things to lose now, and it makes him scared.”
“And you’re not scared?”
“I’m scared to death,” she admits, and for the first time, I see a real hint of emotion in my sister. “I don’t want to lose you when I know so little about who you are. I’ve never had much of a family outside of Cecilia. She’s all I’ve ever had, and now I have so many people I don’t want to lose. But I’d never make the mistake of making choices on your behalf. Seth doesn’t care about that, he acts impulsively, but I’m not him. I just ask that you consider that there are people who care about you and are afraid of losing you… me, among them.”
“You made cupcakes,” a deep voice interrupts, and I turn to see Pietro approaching.
Laura, distracted by me, smiles when she notices her husband. It's an almost innocent, sweet smile.
She loves him. It’s mesmerizing to watch how her shields fall when he’s around.
“They’re for me,” I warn, giving his hand a firm pat as he reaches for one.
He raises an eyebrow, recoiling as if I’ve committed a war crime.
“I didn’t even touch them.”
“If you want them you will have to earn them.”
Pietro stares at me for a second, then turns his gaze to Laura.
“You made cupcakes,” he repeats, as if needing confirmation.
“I did. I separated the ones you like in the kitchen, don’t provoke Mia—she bites.”
I smile and nod at Pietro with a sweet grin.
I like him. He seems like a good husband for Laura.
He blinks slowly. “Why?”
Laura lets out an exasperated sigh. “Because studies show that comfort food helps with emotional adaptation.”
Pietro doesn’t look surprised, but there’s an amused glint in his eye.
They’re cute.
It reminds me that I was deep in a food fight with him and hadn’t exactly been polite enough to say hello.
Before I can stop myself, I’m hugging him.
“Are you going to greet me properly or did you just come over to steal my food?” I ask, and Laura smiles as if amused.
He stands still like a statue.
I think I made a mistake.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling away. “I forgot you don’t like contact.”
“Apology accepted,” he says, adjusting his collar. “I trust it won’t happen again.”
I bet I can get him to soften up in no time.
I can’t resist smiling.
Pietro has that intimidating energy, but deep down, he’s surprisingly kind to me.
I bet I’m the favorite in law.
“Can I ask a question?”
He crosses his arms. “That was already a question.”
“Okay, then I’ll do it without asking… I’m your favorite in law, right?”
“I mean, you and Cecilia seem to make faces at each other all the time. You don’t make faces at me.”
Don't ask me how I know that—because that would mean totally throwing Abby under the bus for practically devouring every piece of drama while we talked. Then again, maybe I should, considering how effortlessly she served me up to my brother that day.
And with that, Laura laughs.
Part of me wants to deflect from the previous conversation with Laura, but another part of me is genuinely curious about this fact.
“No Mia, I have no reason to make faces at you.”
“So I’m softening your hard-shelled husband?” I tease Laura.
“That was probably Eleonora,” she argues.
“Don’t worry, Pietro. It’s completely understandable to be softened by that cute thing.”
“I really don’t want to be a part of this conversation,” he says, turning away but not before kissing Laura on the forehead. They lock eyes, which is extremely cute.
“My God, you two look like one of those movie couples.”
“Mia,” Laura says, blushing, and Pietro looks at me seriously, though I can tell there’s a hint of excitement behind his gaze.
"I'm not exactly used to one of your siblings actually liking us. It's... kind of weird to see, honestly."
“Ceci and Seth don’t like you two together?”
“They don’t have much of an opinion now that we’re married with kids,” Laura says.
“But they both tried to kill me,” Pietro explains, and I widen my eyes, grabbing a cupcake.
I wait for them to share how everything happened between them, and surprisingly, it’s Pietro who tells the story.
His rich, detailed narration pulls me in even more, and from the looks of it, Laura is just as captivated, her eyes shining as if she’s hearing his side of the story for the first time.
“Audrey was brilliant,” I comment, amused when Pietro talks about her threatening him, but not to stay away from Laura—she wanted him to be with her.
I pass one of my cupcakes to Pietro, because he's literally entertaining me with one of the cutest love stories I’ve ever heard. He accepts it and continues.
“I’m so glad you guys are endgame. I mean, I don’t think Laura would let you go. But you two are cute. I’m glad my sister found you.”
“You’re the first of Laura’s relatives to have this reaction.”
“They have zero taste. I support it. You and my sister must be the most logical, calculating couple in history. Besides, Seth and Ceci are just stressed—they’ll warm up to you eventually. I believe that.”
“You’re weird, Mia,” Pietro says, taking a bite of his cupcake.
“I told you, Mia has this charm about her.”
“What am I, a manipulation queen?” I ask.
“No, Mia. You’re a good person. Some would say you’re innocent. But you’re not innocent. You know what’s good and what’s bad, but you choose to be good and kind regardless,” Laura explains.
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew how many people I’ve killed,” I mutter.
Pietro lets out a low chuckle, and when I look at Laura, I notice she’s watching him differently—non-analytical, not calculating, with love.
They’re trapped in their bubble again.
And for a moment—just a moment—my mind lights up with an absurd thought.
My sister, the queen of logic and precision, may not be as cold as she likes to pretend.
Not when she’s with Pietro.
And that makes me root for them. It also makes me miss Zane, because I can relate to that feeling of being so comfortable and connected with someone that they can bring out the essence of who you are.
“Being forced to kill people to survive doesn’t make you a bad person… it makes you a warrior,” Pietro says, bringing me back to the present, his eyes on Laura, as he takes another bite of his cupcake.
He stands, gives her a quick kiss, and leaves to answer a call.
Laura smiles, clearly excited, as if she can’t believe it.
“I’ve never seen Pietro talk so openly to anyone other than me, Julie, and Luigi. I think he sees you as…”
“Family?” I ask.
She nods, still sounding a little stunned.
“Yeah,” she says, as if she can’t quite believe her own words.
“Oh, he’s a nice guy. He’s just more into himself. You chose well. I’m used to mafia men and their stoic personalities, so I don’t take it personally."
I feel my eyes getting heavy.
Shit, I need Zane. I’m starting to get sleepy, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
But why should I? It’s safe here.
And Laura looks at me, as if seeing the most bizarre thing in the world.
“I never thought anyone would use the word ‘nice’ to describe Pietro.”
“He is,” I say, my voice heavy with sleep, “But you are more. I love having a smart sister like you.”
I see a hint of surprise in her expression.
Maybe because Laura isn’t used to this.
Maybe because she doesn’t understand exactly why I’m so sleepy, but I give up and let sleep take me.