Elena
I pull into Dom's circular driveway for the second time today, this time with three excited voices chattering from the backseat.
"Will there be marshmallows in the hot chocolate?" Rocco asks, bouncing in his seat.
"Can I put the star on top?" Elio chimes in.
Adalina, always the quietest of my three, simply clutches her favorite ornament, a glass ballerina Dom gave her last Christmas, that she wanted to hang in her room all year until Christmas again.
"Yes to marshmallows, and we'll see about the star," I answer, trying to push thoughts of Luca from my mind. His lips still burn against mine, even hours later.
Roberto welcomes us with a warm smile, immediately offering to take their backpacks while I usher the kids into the grand living room.
The massive tree stands half-decorated from my earlier work, before Luca derailed everything.
"Wow!" The triplets gasp in unison, their eyes wide at the twelve-foot spruce.
“The lights aren’t on,” Rocco points out. “I thought the lights went first.”
“We’ll remedy that now,” I say, thinking about why the lights aren’t on and hoping the heat on my cheeks isn’t showing up as rosy red.
Dom appears in the doorway, his imposing figure softening at the sight of the children. "There they are." His voice, usually commanding, gentles around them.
"Uncle Dom!" They rush to him.
Even Adalina abandons her shyness. “Look, I brought it back like I said I would.” She holds up the ballerina ornament.
“I had no doubts.” My stern, dangerous cousin kneels to their level, accepting their hugs.
Few people see this side of Dominic Vitale, the man who runs one of the most powerful crime families in the city but who dotes on his cousin's children.
"I had the kitchen prepare special hot chocolate," he tells them, nodding to Roberto who brings in a tray.
While the kids sip their drinks, Dom and I wrap the tree in lights.
Once we’re done, we let the kids go, and they eagerly load the lower branches they can reach with ornaments.
I watch Adalina carefully hang her ballerina ornament, her little face scrunched in concentration. Rocco and Elio argue about which superhero ornament deserves a better spot.
Dom goes to a small bar in the corner of the room and pours himself a drink and me a glass of wine.
Then we sit on the couch and watch the children transform the tree into a wonderfully chaotic display.
"How was your day?" I ask Dom.
He takes too long to answer. "Fine."
"That's convincing." I nudge his shoulder gently. "I heard this morning’s La Corona meeting ran long."
Dom swirls the amber liquid in his glass, his expression guarded. "Just business."
"The kind you can't talk about, or the kind you don't want to worry me with?" I've learned to read between his lines over the years.
He sighs, glancing to ensure the children are out of earshot. "Someone's been moving pieces around the board again."
My stomach tightens. "Again? You mean the person who’s been trying to manipulate the family?
Like with Gabriella last year? Or Isabella before that?
" First, Isabella was manipulated into believing the Calabresis killed her mother, then Gabriella was made to think Marco wanted to take over her father's territory.
Each time, families within La Corona could have turned against each other, but they didn’t.
Someone is underestimating the vow and bond between the families. But that’s not to say their bond is unbreakable.
My father’s arrest tested Dom’s father and Don Monti’s bond.
“It’s possible.” He glances at me. “If the FBI approaches you—”
I wave his concern away. “I’ll let you know, but they won’t. Why would they? I know nothing.”
He shrugs. “But you have a complaint against a family member. A family member who is now back. It’s clear the FBI is targeting people who might want revenge within La Corona.”
I look down into my wine. “Have you told Gio that? Or others who worked with your father?”
“I have.”
I don’t doubt it.
The few people who ever challenged Dom’s leadership right after his father died are either dead or missing.
I know the old guard, like Gio, aren’t thrilled with Dom, but they keep their heads down.
Dom proved his power, and they bowed to it.
“To be clear, I’m not sure that it’s the same, but the others felt we need to be diligent. We need to stick together, not let someone try to divide us.”
I take another sip, larger this time. “I won’t cause any trouble. Luca has been back for a year. Mostly, we keep our distance.” God, I hope no one saw us kissing.
Lying to Dom would not be smart.
I love him and greatly appreciate all he’s done for me, but he can’t know the truth either.
My gaze drifts to my children, blissfully unaware as they argue over where to hang a glittering snowflake.
Everything I've done, every lie I've told, every truth I've hidden, has been to protect them from this world.
"We'll handle it," Dom assures me. "La Corona has survived worse."
I swirl the wine in my glass, trying to look nonchalant. "I suppose it’s good Luca is back if someone is stirring up trouble, since Don Monti is having health issues.”
Dom's expression shifts, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Yes, thank God for that. Antonio's condition is getting worse by the week. Luca stepping up has been essential."
"How's he adjusting?" I ask. "Must be strange coming back after so long in Italy."
Dom raises an eyebrow, and I know my attempt at nonchalance has failed miserably.
I busy myself by taking another drink of my wine.
"Better than expected. The transition's been smooth." Dom watches me carefully. "His time in Italy made him a great leader, shrewd, cunning… lethal. He's taken on most of Antonio's responsibilities already."
In some ways, that saddens me.
When I knew Luca before, he was intelligent but didn’t have the darkness required to lead in our world.
"That's good," I manage, remembering the pressure of his lips against mine, the way his hands had gripped my waist like he didn’t want to let go.
"He's changed. Italy hardened him in some ways, but he's more measured now. Not impulsive… or gullible. More like a Don."
“Gullible?” That’s not a term I’d use for Luca.
He simply shrugs. What the heck does he mean?
Not wanting to reveal too much interest, I say, “I’m sure he has changed. Seven years is a long time."
Dom's eyes narrow slightly. "I hope long enough to let some things go."
I can’t decide if he’s talking to me or speaking about his men who, like Gio, haven't felt they got the revenge they wanted for my father.
I move closer to Dom, lowering my voice so the kids can't hear. "Are you concerned about his history with the Vitale family?"
Dom takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes tracking the children. "I never bought that Luca was the mastermind who brought your father down."
His casual dismissal shocks me.
While I’ve come to question Luca’s intentions, I’ve never heard anyone in the Vitale family do so.
"Why not? Everyone else seemed convinced."
He hesitates, like he’s searching for the right words.
“Your father was a seasoned captain, not one to be bested by a kid, especially a kid from another family. Don’t get me wrong, Luca is smart, but he didn’t have the experience your father had.
No way he outmaneuvered your dad. And no way did he snitch.
I watched Luca grow up. He’d have cut his own heart out before he’d dishonor his father or betray La Corona. "
The logic makes perfect sense and fills me with guilt.
My father had navigated the treacherous waters of our world for decades.
The idea that Luca, barely twenty-three at the time, could have orchestrated his downfall single-handedly doesn’t make sense, and yet, I’d immediately believed Luca betrayed me and my father.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” My voice carries some heat. I’m angry that Dom never defended Luca, but of course, of all of us, I’m the one who should have believed in him.
“I did. I gave my two cents at the time, but my father had other ideas, and he was the Don.”
“You never said anything to me.”
He looks at me like I’ve grown a third eye. “I was smart enough not to say anything to contradict my father. And the truth is that I don’t know the truth. Luca could be more cunning than I gave him credit for.”
“And you’re willing to work with him now.”
Dom’s voice turns dark. “If Luca was behind what happened to your father, he’ll get what’s coming to him. Somehow, he’ll pay.”
I shudder at the promise in his words.
I glance at the kids again knowing that Luca getting what’s coming to him doesn’t necessarily mean his death. It could mean the death of anyone he cares for.
"Mommy, look!" Adalina's voice breaks through our conversation. She points proudly to where she's hung three matching ornaments in a perfect row.
"Beautiful, sweetheart," I call back.
When I turn back to Dom, his expression has softened. "They look more like him every day, you know."
My heart stops. "What?"
"The kids," Dom clarifies. "They have the Vitale eyes, just like you."
Relief floods through me, though I shouldn't have worried.
Dom may suspect many things, but he's never questioned the children's parentage.
Still, his earlier words echo in my mind about Luca getting what he deserves.
"Why was Luca even working with my father?" I finally ask, realizing I’ve never talked to Dom about what happened back then.
The truth is, I've been avoiding this conversation for years, terrified of what I might learn.
Dom finishes his drink. "La Corona families share resources when needed. Men, territory, information. It's what makes us stronger than our rivals."
"But specifically, Luca? He was so young then."