CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAMIEN
Cemeteries are always cold.
A welcome sort of cold that coupled with silence, seeps into my bones. It cuts through the heat that constantly simmers beneath my skin. Inching at buried emotions. Anger. Guilt. Sadness. It’s always a toss-up whenever I come here. I don’t know what I’m going to feel.
But I come here regardless anytime something life changing happens to me. Sentimentality? Or as a punishment, who knows. Maybe it’s both.
Gravel crunches beneath my boots as I walk, my hands in my coat pockets. Luca trails behind me, close but never too close. We pass the same cracked angels and meta gates. The same dying flowers left by people who still believe the dead care. They don’t.
The dead are gone and all that’s left behind are the memories and feelings people continue to hold on to. It’s ironic how people always wish for the dead to rest in peace, and somehow manage to prevent them from doing so with their grief.
I keep on walking. Until I reach row eighteen. Headstone five.
Carina Moretti Luciano. Beloved wife and mother.
My mother.
I stare at the name carved in stone, bold and neat. The script lies. Somehow managing to project everything my mother wasn’t. She wasn’t the typical Don’s wife, graceful and dignified. My father always described her as wildfire dressed in silk and pearls.
“Hello, mother,” I say quietly in Italian. “Did you miss me?”
I come to her grave more than I do my fathers. The parent I loved more. What I felt or feel for my mother isn’t love. But it isn’t not love. We share an extremely complicated relationship.
My mother was painfully human in a world that raised me to carve out all human emotions. I despised her for that. I was unable to understand it.
I crouch beside the grave, brush away the dead leaves collecting at the base.
My fingers linger on the cold marble. A name and two dates, one the day she was born and the other the day she became dead to me.
She used to hold me when I had fevers as a kid.
She would cry like she felt my pain. She loved me unconditionally.
But I killed her. At least that’s what everyone thinks.
“Is this my punishment, mother?” I ask, still speaking Italian. “Will I ever be free of you?”
The wind stirs. Dead leaves spiral across the gravel like they’re running from something. Maybe I should too. Run from it all. the complicated feelings she stirs.
“I got married yesterday. Her name’s Cassandra.
She’s…” I hesitate before saying my next words, feeling them acutely for the first time.
“You’d like her. She’s beautiful. And she’s like you.
A wildfire that threatens to burn everything in its path.
But her fire doesn’t feel destructive, mother.
It feels warm, despite the fact that it might burn me.
Cassie won’t betray me like you betrayed father. Like you betrayed us. I won’t let her.”
I hear her voice in my head—soft, haunting, like a ghost wrapped in silk.
“ Will you kill your own mother? Is this how you treat a woman you love, mi amore?”
The words echo like a curse, twisting through my thoughts.
Would I ever hurt Cassie?
Never.
I’d burn the whole fucking world to ash before I laid a hand on her. I’d tear down empires, slit throats, and paint the streets red before I let her feel an ounce of pain because of me.
But that’s what scares me.
Because I know I’m capable of all of it. No limits. No conscience. No hesitation.
The truth? My morality died a long time ago.
Cassie’s the only thing that keeps me tethered to whatever’s left of my soul.
“You really fucked me up, Mother,” I murmur. “Do you regret it now? You said you didn’t. You looked me in the eye and said you didn’t regret betraying Father. Didn’t regret falling in love with another man. But did you ever stop to think about what that did to me? What it meant for your son?”
My voice stays low, steady—but it’s laced with bitterness.
“To grow up surrounded by men who looked at me like I didn’t belong. Like I wasn’t my father’s son. Like I was just a living reminder of your sin.”
There’s no answer. I don’t expect one. I asked her these same questions the last time I saw her. And she said nothing then either. Just tears and silence. But not a single goddamn apology.
That’s why I pulled the trigger. That’s why she’s been missing all these years.
Not on her.
I couldn’t.
No matter how much pain she caused me, I couldn’t kill the woman who gave me life. I tried, God, I tried, but I couldn’t do it. Even monsters have limits, and maybe that was mine.
They all think I did it. That I killed her.
That I’m the devil who put a bullet in his own mother.
Maybe I am a monster… but not for that. I’m a monster for letting her live.
For letting her walk away with her betrayal untouched.
For letting her breathe when the man she chose over our family did not.
That man thought he could take my father's place in her bed, in our family, I made sure he never breathed again.
But… as for my mother… she got away that night. I let her. Not out of mercy. Out of weakness. Or maybe it was love. Twisted. Bleeding. Damned.
She’s still my biggest regret. Letting her go. Letting her leave me to piece together the shards of a life she shattered. That night didn’t cleanse me—it just stripped away what little innocence I had left. I was reborn in blood. Not hers, but close enough to stain me forever.
What’s really fucked up is even though I let her go, if I saw her today, I’d let her go again and again. That’s the sort of sick shit I have to deal with.
Luca stands a few feet behind me, silent as always. He’s seen me like this more times than I can count. I sometimes wonder what he thinks. If he judges me. Or if he understands—like he always has. Most people wouldn’t justify killing a man over a mother’s betrayal.
But in our world, loyalty is everything.
And she broke it.
We’re back at the house by 8am after our early morning visit to the cemetery. It still feels cold, like the chill came back with me. A chill I doubt I’ll ever shake.
I follow the sound of laughter towards the kitchen.
It’s warm, the exact kind of warmth I need at the moment.
I find Renata there of course, with Cassie and Sofia who have taken to spending a lot of time together in the past couple of days since the wedding.
According to my baby sister, her sister in law ‘isn’t so bad. ’ I’m glad that they’ve bonded.
But it has taken Cassie’s attention off me a little. I’ve been busy with work so we haven’t had much time to spend to each other. Which is ridiculous considering we’re newlyweds.
“Hey, big brother,” Sofia greets, noticing me first standing at the doorway into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” I say gruffly, walking further inside.
My eyes meet Cassie’s and she offers me a small smile.
We’re miles ahead of where our relationship was when she first got here.
And somehow still stagnant at the same time.
She looks beautiful as always. Her hair is in a short messy ponytail and she’s wearing a little pink top and blue shorts that I wish she wouldn’t wear around the house, especially with my men walking about.
It’s a great view, one that should only be mine. But if I make a fuss about it, she’ll probably only wear those shorts to prove a point. I only pick battles I know I’ll win.
“Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes,” Renata informs me from her position in front of the oven.
I nod in acknowledgment, noticing Sofia’s piercing, inquisitive gaze.
“What?” I question, looking towards her.
“Where did you go so early?”
“Why do you care?” I ask.
I’m nearly 15 years older than Sofia and yet it’s amazing how at times, we have the same peculiar bond all siblings have. Her eyes narrow and I practically see the gears turning in her head. She switches to Italian, intentionally keeping Cassie out of the loop in the conversation.
“You were at the cemetery, weren’t you, fratello?” Sofia states, her eyes narrowing further into a glare. “You went to see Mama.”
My jaw tightens and I reply in Italian as well, “Drop it, Sofia. My comings and goings are none of your business.”
My sister adores me, and I know she supports me in nearly everything I do.
What she’s never been able to forgive me for however, is the death of our mother.
She doesn’t understand why a woman she barely remembers was ripped away from her so young.
Sofia was only a teenager when mother was allegedly killed.
I was supposed to kill her not long after our father died.
It was his dying wish, or should I say, command.
A couple of years after I took my position as Don.
She has never been able to understand why she had to grow up without both her parents.
She blames me for it, as she should. Our mother’s a sore subject in this home.
I don’t think Dante understands it either. But he doesn’t talk about it. He just accepted my actions, continued to respect and follow me in spite of it. I expected more anger from him. Especially considering he had more memories of her.
“You went to see your mother?” Cassie asks, speaking up for the first time.
I look at her in surprise, wondering how she understood. She reads the look and waves her hand in the air with an eyeroll.
“Oh please, I’m not completely hopeless when it comes to Italian,” she states. “So please no trying to leave me out of the conversation by speaking a different language.”
“Nothing of the sort is happening, mi vida ,” I say before turning to my sister. “Drop it, Sofia.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t press the issue further. Having nothing else to say, I turn around wanting to get some work done before breakfast. Cassie follows me out of the kitchen, as I’d been hoping she would.
“Can I help you, sweetheart?” I ask she trails silently behind me up the stairs.
“Your mom,” she starts curiously and I feel a zap of irritation. This is the one topic I’d rather not discuss with her. I don’t want it to change how she views me. “She’s dead, right?”
“Yes. Both my parents have passed away.”
“Sorry about that,” she murmurs.
“It’s an inevitable fact of life, mi vida . Children bury their parents.”
She flinches at that, reminding me that she’s yet to actually deal with the grief of losing her father. She doesn’t talk about him and she pretends it never happened. The day those feelings burst, I can only hope I’m close by to offer her the comfort I know she’ll need.
“Anyway,” she says, brushing past the comment. “I was going to ask for a favor.”
I arch an eyebrow in question.
“My dad’s company. The board meeting is in a week and I need to be there. I haven’t been seen in public in weeks. My absence from the company was excusable due to grief but it’s been too long. They’re starting to get antsy and so am I. I need to go and take care of things.”
“Okay,” I reply easily.
Her brows furrow, “That was too easy.”
I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Actually you need to do something for me first, bella .”
She sighs softly, “What is it?”
“A date. Our first one as husband and wife. We can go to my favorite restaurant tomorrow night. You like Mexican food right?”
“Of course I do,” she affirms before agreeing with a small smile. “Fine. One date doesn’t sound like too much of a hardship.”
“Your enthusiasm is duly noted,” I drawl. “Get ready to leave by 7 tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she says softly.
We arrive at the door to her room on the way to mine. Every day, the urge to have her with me, wake up next to me grow stronger. But I also refuse to push. Because I know better than anyone that she feels the pull between us. It’s only a matter of time before she gives in.
She leans against her door, staring at me with her edge of her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s a rather distracting sight. Because I’d very much like to be the one biting down on those lips. Biting, sucking every inch of her skin, driving her wild basically.
But that will happen eventually.
Her eyes never leave mine as she asks, “Are you okay, though? You seem off.”
I hate that even now she can see the shadows that always seem to lurk around me.
“I’ll be alright, mi vida ,” I tell her.
As long as I have her.
I leave her, heading into my bedroom.
“Boss,” Luca says, his tone requesting permission to speak.
“I’m listening,” I drawl.
“You gave her permission to attend the board meeting.”
“I did,” I confirm. “Any problems with that?”
“We’re still investigating Miguel Solis. Aren’t you worried about what she might find out?” he questions. “The situation is still too delicate and we have no idea what moves Solis might make.”
I take off my jacket, considering his words.
“In my opinion, Solis is a dog, barking with no teeth.”
“You never underestimate your enemies,” Luca states.
I turn to look at him, arching an eyebrow, “You consider him an enemy?”
“He’s definitely not a friend.”
I lean against the edge of the table in the room, crossing my arms as I regard my bodyguard and my trusted friend.
“And Cassie? What are your thoughts on her,” I ask suddenly curiously.
“She makes you smile, boss,” he replies gruffly. “That’s all I need.”
“Sentimental bastard,” I state with a short chuckle. “Get me the files on the Ruis deal.”
He nods before leaving the room. Once he’s gone, I really think about what he had to say about Cassie and her uncle. They’re too completely separate entities. I’m almost certain Miguel is planning something against her. But I’ll also do everything to protect her and ensure he doesn’t succeed.
By making her my wife, I’ve given her a lot of power and she has no understanding of the depths of it. But she will eventually.
I just don’t want her to sink into it.