38. Liana
THIRTY-EIGHT
LIANA
T he next time I open up to a man, it will be during my autopsy.
It was the solemn vow I made to myself as the airplane engine hummed at my feet.This hurt so fucking bad that it felt like a fatal internal wound. But no, it was just my feeble heart bleeding.
There’d be no more of that. I wasn’t cut out for this shit.
My fingers shook as I reached for the bottle of water in front of me and brought it to my lips.
I took a gulp of it then looked out the window, my reflection staring back at me. It was dark outside, the red-eye being the first flight I could get to New York City where Killian and Emory lived. It was the very same home that Atticus Popov snatched Emory from not too long ago.
The reasonable part of me knew I’d made the wrong move, but before I disappeared for good, I had to see Amara. One last time.
Even if it killed me.
The trip from Boston was short; no sooner had the plane taken off than it seemed to already be landing.
A few years ago, I had thoroughly researched everything there was to know about Killian Brennan Cullen and Emory DiLustro. I had even listed them in my will in the event that something happened to me. Even back then, when I was beyond broken, it mattered to me that Amara could find her way to them. Her well-being had always been my primary concern.
The night was pitch-black, the silver moon’s glow slicing through the darkness as I rolled my rental car to a stop at the front gate of Killian’s manor, a shadowy fortress nestled thirty minutes beyond the city’s reach. I let the window down, and the guard nodded at me in acknowledgement.
“I’m here to see Amara Vol—” My voice failed me at realizing she likely wasn’t known as Amara Volkov but as Amara Cullen. I cleared my throat, aware of the guard watching me intently. “I’m here to see Amara,” I finally gritted, unable to push Cullen past my lips.
He narrowed his eyes on me. “And you are?”
I lifted my chin, my fingers curling around the cold metal of my gun.
“Can you please tell her Mother Liana is here?”
A hesitant nod and he pulled out his phone, dialing the house. He kept his voice too low for me to pick up on what he was saying. Probably warning Emory and Killian about me so they could shoot me dead the minute I was within range.
He ended his call. “Go ahead, miss.”
The gate began opening and without hesitation, I put my car into drive and rolled through it. As the gate clanged shut behind me, the thought struck—this drive might very well be a one-way trip to my own demise.
I drove slower than necessary, trying to come to terms with what I was about to do. Not that I knew what I was doing. My only thought when I started on this path was to see Amara.
By the time I pulled up to the front door, everyone was there.
Every single DiLustro, including Emory. Killian Cullen. Their wives.
I must have picked a damn family bingo night to find them all here.
Their attention singularly on me, their hands visibly on their weapons, I put the car into park. I turned off the ignition, sliding my gun into the pocket of my jacket. When I rounded the car, I was distinctly aware of everyone’s focus on me.
The DiLustro men dressed in black suits reminded me of Giovanni, and a sharp pain pierced through my chest. I ignored it, shoving him out of my mind, but unfortunately I couldn’t push him out of my heart.
Every single pair of eyes watched me with a calculative, or maybe murderous, streak, probably planning my funeral. Not that I could blame them.
The women wore differing expressions. Curiosity. Caution. Anger. Guess who wore the latter on her pretty face? That’s right. Emory DiLustro. She and the other wives were dressed in jeans and the most ridiculous T-shirts printed with obscene sayings: Come and get me, daddy; Will blow for ice; I licked it, it’s mine.
What kind of bingo did these women play?
“Mother Liana!”
I went still at the familiar voice, and a second later, a small body pushed between dark suits and raunchy T-shirts, running straight for me. Dark curls that were longer than I remembered. Blue eyes that could melt frozen hearts and heal broken souls.
It was only when she threw herself through the air that I finally fell to my knees, enveloping her in my arms.
“You’re here,” she murmured against my chest, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Are you really here?”
“I missed you, my little Mara,” I croaked, squeezing her hard to my chest and peppering kisses on the crown of her head. I dragged in a deep breath, fighting back tears.“My treasure.”
I leaned back just enough to take a good look at her. Amara’s cheeks were fuller, rosier, with a vibrant glow to her skin—so different from the pallid, fragile face I remembered.
The lump in my throat suffocated, happiness and sadness battling inside me.
“You are so beautiful,” I said, my voice cracking and tears spilling down my cheeks. “So healthy. And… I’m so happy.”
Her small fingers reached up and she brushed the wetness away. “You’re sad.”
The lump in my throat grew. Each beat of my heart was a reminder of what I’d lost. First Amara. Now Giovanni. Maybe it was my destiny to lose everyone. Maybe I deserved it, my sins demanding repayment.
“No, I’m happy,” I rasped. “So happy that I get to see you.” Even if it’s for the last time.
A shadow fell over us, and I wasn’t surprised to find Killian and Emory hovering, cautious expressions on their faces.
“You have some nerve coming here after the stunt you pulled in Venezuela,” Killian said, throwing me a glare.
So I had Emory kidnapped. It was for Amara’s good. Why was everybody hell-bent on punishing me for it?
“Well, if it makes you feel better,” I remarked as I straightened to my full height, lifting Amara so I could keep her in my arms a bit longer, “I was kidnapped too. So I already got my karma.”
“That’s not the same,” he growled.
“Killian,” Emory warned in a tone that clearly stated she didn’t want any trouble. “We agreed.”
“It’s okay,” I assured Emory. From the slight narrowing of Killian’s eyes, I could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled with whatever they’d agreed on, which made me curious. Not that they’d tell me if I asked.“I knew what I could be walking into, so go ahead and dish it all out.”
Killian flashed me a savage grin. “I’m all for it.”
“No, you’re not,” Emory cut in, then met my gaze. “Although you did manage to make quite a mess, Liana.”
I looked at Amara, her rosy cheeks and shining blue eyes locked on me, and I just couldn’t find it in my heart to regret it. Maybe I lost her for good. Maybe I would meet my death today, but she—the little girl who breathed life into me when I needed it the most—would live.
I returned my focus to Emory and smiled with regret. “Sadly, I would probably do it all again, because little Mara is healthy.”
“You could have reached out, you know,” Emory scolded.
I shrugged. “Trust isn’t a luxury I can afford.”
“You cost me my lawyer… my friend. Thanks to your shenanigans, Bogdan Dragovi? has her in his clutches.”
I let out a sardonic breath. “I guess the Serbian don just couldn’t resist a little vengeance, could he?”
“That’s not funny,” Killian gritted.
“I wasn’t laughing,” I pointed out sharply. “But if you’re unable to make headway with retrieving her back from Bogdan, I can have my man look into it. There are several off-grid locations that Bogdan owns all over the globe. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he took her to one of those.”
Emory’s eyes flashed with hope while her expression remained reserved. “If something happened to her?—”
“Yeah, yeah… you’ll kill me. Get in line,” I muttered, lowering my eyes to Amara. Gosh, it was as if she grew a foot since I last saw her. How many things would I miss in her life? Everything? Key milestones?
“Let’s go inside, Mother Liana.” Amara was the one to interrupt the tense moment. “I want you to meet all my uncles and aunts. There are lots of them. Is that okay, Mamma?”
Mamma.
Only a few months ago, that word wasn’t part of her vocabulary, and now it rolled so naturally off her lips. It would seem blood and biology certainly prevailed, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to be sad about it. I loved Amara and I wanted her to be happy, cherished, and adored. To have the life she was meant to from the moment she took her first breath.
I was aware of Killian’s and Emory’s attention, but I forced myself to avert my gaze and focus on the DiLustro gang.
“I’m assuming you know everyone,” Emory remarked.
“I know of them,” I said.
Basilio DiLustro and his wife—Olympic ice skater, Wynter. Coincidentally, Wynter was my mother’s grandchild. No, great-grandchild. It was hard to track Sofia Volkov’s family tree.
Dante DiLustro, Basilio’s cousin, stood beside them with his own wife, Juliette, who was Killian’s sister. It was rumored among the criminals that she killed my father, Edward Murphy. He used to be the head of the Murphy Irish mafia. He was also the man who abandoned my twin and me to Sofia and Ivan Petrov.
Good riddance, I thought.
There was no room in this world for men who abandoned their children.
On the other side of Basilio was Priest, but he was of no interest to me. Instead, all my attention was on his wife. Ivy DiLustro, maiden name Murphy. Fuck! I really didn’t want to meet her. My twin used to rave about her back in the day, but her awe was quickly replaced by resentment, even hate. Our father left us at the mercy of the wolves, the few times he even bothered to visit us, but he had no problem taking care of his other children.
A petite woman with red hair and blue eyes held on to Priest’s hand.
“Fuck, you look just like your sister,” Ivy said. She closed the distance, dragging Priest along. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Liana.” Then, to my horror, she hugged me. I squeezed Amara, using her as my shield, while staring wide-eyed at her family. Then she stepped back and threw her in-laws a glare. “You’re not going to shoot her, so get your hands off your guns.”
“Okay, this is awkward,” Juliette blurted. Yeah, you’re not wrong .
“Let’s go inside,” Wynter encouraged, offering me a smile and a tentative wave. “I’m sure we have some catching up to do.”
God help me with all these family reunions.