Chapter 24 #2
“I’m your mother, Stella. I’d be the first to grant any dream you ever had if I had the power to make it so.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not terrified.
It doesn’t mean that every time one of my children leaves the nest, I don’t pray that no harm will come to them.
This is a hard life, Stella. A life filled with blood and pain and danger.
What kind of mother would want that for her children?
You, your brothers, and your sister are my heart.
My very reason for being. In what world would I willingly send my heart to the wolves to be slaughtered? ”
A small smile touches my lips as she continues brushing her fingers through my hair. “You’re also a tad bit dramatic.”
“Yes, well.” She shrugs with a smile. “I’m who I am, and I don’t begrudge myself for it.
And you, my sweet girl, are who you are.
And tomorrow I want you to step into your power and show every single Capo there that you deserve to stand beside your brothers and father.
You’ve broken years of patriarchal tradition with your tenacity and bravery.
I’m so proud of you for that. So very proud. ”
When silent tears of pride begin to fall from her eyes and slide down her cheeks, I launch myself at her waist and hold her tightly.
“I love you, Mammà. I always have. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that I didn’t.”
“That’s quite alright. People usually fight hardest with the ones they love most.”
My mind goes immediately to Kirill, and I cling to her even tighter.
She lets me hold her for as long as I need, then gently tips my chin up, with a new kind of worry shadowing her features.
“You know you can always come to me about anything. Anything, Stella. I mean it.”
I swallow, my throat tight as the words scrape their way out. “How do you cope? Loving someone who might disappear in a moment’s notice? Like Papà when he got shot. Weren’t you afraid?”
“Petrified,” she answers truthfully. “But a life built on fear isn’t much of one. You can’t let what might happen tomorrow rob you of what you can have today. Of the beautiful life you can build. If I had let fear make my decisions for me, then I wouldn’t have this beautiful family of mine.”
“But you were afraid once, right? You even left Papà and our dads because you thought you were protecting them from Cyro. We all heard the stories. You were afraid…that’s why you left.”
“Well, that’s a name that puts the fear of God in anyone,” she sighs. “But I’ve long forgiven Cyro for the hand he played in our lives and in our suffering. I was just as culpable as he was.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, confused, and gain a sympathizing small smile from her.
“Because of my fear of losing your fathers, I prevented myself from having the life I wanted for ten long years. Ten years I could have been truly happy. Ten years I stole from us because I was afraid…afraid of what could befall the men I loved. I could’ve had all this sooner, this beautiful life of mine, if I had just been a little braver.
If I’d trusted that your fathers could protect themselves without needing me to do it for them.
But I was young. And I was pregnant with Jude at the time.
So fear made every decision for me. And for that, I will always bear the burden of knowing I stole time from all of us. ”
My brows furrow at her words. Instead of responding, I lay my head back on her lap and let my mother run her fingers through my hair like I’m five years old again.
“Is fear commanding your decisions now, piccolina? Is fear the true culprit behind your unhappiness?”
I don’t answer her. I can’t. I’m not strong enough yet.
Instead, I say, “I would really like it if you were at my ceremony, Mammà. But I’m not sure Papà will allow it.”
At this, my mother lets out a small laugh.
“Oh, sweet girl. It seems you still have a lot to learn about love. When you love someone, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them. Even if it means going against tradition and the old patriarchal ways of the Syndicate.”
“Is that what love is? I hadn’t noticed,” I mumble, more to myself than to her.
“Something tells me that’s not true,” she says gently.
“Something tells me you’ve experienced that kind of love to its truest form.
Where the person you’ve given your heart to would do just about anything to make you happy, to fulfill your every wish and demand.
But love goes both ways, Stella. Never take it for granted.
Because if you do…if you’re selfish with your love…
then the inevitable happens too.” Her hand pauses in my hair. “Love dies.”
I frown at that and close my eyes.
My love is already dead. Now all that’s left to do is mourn it.
The next day is pure chaos in the Romano household.
Everyone is stressing out and running amok, trying to get ready for my graduation ceremony.
But for some unknown reason, I’m exceptionally calm.
I don’t know if it was the long ass sleep I got last night, or the conversation I had with my mother.
All I know is that I feel lighter today, like something inside me has flipped a switch.
Or maybe the reason I don’t feel so weighed down is because before this day ends, not only will I have my bachelor’s degree in business, but I’ll have something far more important—the title of enforcer.
Today I will officially be made and become part of my family’s legacy.
Today I will take the omertà in front of the most distinguished Capos the Syndicate has in all of Chicago.
Today my dreams are finally coming true.
That’s what I think about as we pile into the SUVs and drive to UChicago for my graduation ceremony.
And it’s what keeps me steady when we leave and head toward the old Salvatore mansion, where my parents will host all their guests, Capos and other influential people mingling under one roof.
The official reason for the party is my graduation, though every mafioso here knows the real purpose behind it—my induction.
My father always does this. He throws big, lavish parties and sprinkles in a few normals to keep up appearances. Then, one by one, every head of their famiglia slips away from the celebration and walks into the woods, to the cabin where the real ceremony awaits.
By the time the guests arrive and start making a beeline to shake my father’s hand and congratulate me, my body is more relaxed than it’s been in months.
Actually, in two months, one week, and four days.
But who’s counting?
I offer most of the guests a fabricated polite smile, saving the real one for the heads of families as they pass through the mansion’s threshold.
But just as I’m preparing myself to fake yet another smile, a pair of dark eyes snags my attention and suddenly my entire body feels like it’s been struck by lightning.
Kirill is here.
He came to my induction.
He’s here.
And from the deep shadows under his eyes, it’s clear the last two months, one week, and four days have been hell for him too.
But it’s only when his eyes lock onto mine that I feel my heart beat again. As if that was always its purpose.
To beat.
And to dance with his.