Chapter 17
Gianna Pov~
"Cata, what do you want to do today?" I asked as I brushed my baby girl's long brown hair.
I should probably get it cut soon. It was far too long for a seven-year-old. She could barely brush it herself and always waited for me to do it. With so many children in the house needing my attention, her hair often ended up looking like a bird's nest by the end of the day.
"Can we go to a park or somewhere outside today?" she asked, absentmindedly playing with the hair ties in her hands.
I nodded before realizing she couldn't see me. "Of course. Daddy said the coast is clear, so we can go wherever you all want today," I said, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.
She bounced excitedly in my lap. "Can we get ice cream? Or pizza? Or both?" she asked, her voice climbing higher with every word.
I laughed. "Sure... but you have to promise not to tell your daddy."
"Our secret, Mommy." She held up her pinky. Smiling, I hooked mine around hers. "Our secret." I began braiding her hair when my other baby walked into the room.
"Hey, buddy! Ready to go?" I asked. Dantae, who was a year older than Cata, walked over wearing jeans, a white T-shirt with an unbuttoned flannel over it, and his favorite Converse sneakers. His dark hair was already neatly brushed.
"Yeah. Ales helped me." He leaned his head against my shoulder, and I smiled, kissing the top of his head while I finished tying off Cata's braid.
"Mommy?" Dantae asked quietly.
"Hmm?"
"How come Daddy isn't coming with us today?"
Those piercing blue eyes, identical to Adriano's, looked up at me with genuine curiosity. I pulled him onto my lap beside Cata, the two of them patiently waiting for my answer. "Daddy's working today with your uncles," I explained, gently brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead.
"How come he's always working?" he asked, absentmindedly playing with the necklace around my neck.
My heart squeezed. I had always hated how much Adriano worked. Not because I wanted him to change, I never would. Being Capo wasn't just a title. It was who he was. It was his purpose, and I would never ask him to give that up.
But the younger kids couldn't understand that yet. All they knew was that sometimes Daddy wasn't home. And they missed him.
Whenever Adriano was home, he made every second count. He played with them, taught them history, helped them practice Italian, and somehow managed to make every child feel like they were the most important person in the room.
He took an interest in every hobby, every dream, every little accomplishment. The way our children looked at him, with complete admiration, made me fall in love with him all over again every single day.
He wasn't anything like the fathers either of us had grown up with. He had broken that cycle. He protected his children fiercely, but he never forgot to love them just as fiercely.
"Daddy is a very important businessman," I said softly. "His job is to make sure our family stays safe. Once he's done with work, he'll come home and spend time with all of you."
Dantae nodded slowly. Cata let out a dramatic sigh. "I miss him."
My heart broke just a little. Wrapping both children in my arms, I kissed the tops of their heads. "I know, sweetheart. But he'll be home later. And when he gets home, maybe the two of you can spend some time with him."
That seemed to brighten their moods. They both nodded before hopping off my lap. "Go round up your brothers, sisters, and cousins," I laughed. "Tell everyone to meet in the foyer so we can leave."
"Okay!" The two of them raced out of the room, already shouting for the others. I smiled to myself before making my way downstairs. As I reached the foyer, I spotted AJ, Marcio, Michel, and Dean gathered by the front door.
From the determined looks on their faces, they were clearly heading out on one of their own missions. "Be careful, please," I said, fixing all four boys with the most serious look I could manage.
"We're always careful, Ma," AJ replied with a crooked smirk.
I gave him an unimpressed look. "I'm serious." Marcio walked over, casually draping an arm around my shoulders. "We know, Aunt," he said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. "Have a little faith in us."
I smiled despite myself and gently smacked his cheek. "I do."
Even though they weren't all biologically mine, I'd never been able to see them any differently. Every one of them were like my children.
"We'll see you later, Mom," Michel said, giving me a quick hug before following the others out the door. I watched the four boys disappear outside and couldn't help shaking my head. Trouble always seemed to find those boys.
Then again...maybe it was just part of that Basilio curse.
This is a fun setup because it shifts from the family dynamics back into AJ and Marcio doing Mafia work. I tightened the pacing, improved the descriptions, and made AJ's observations sound more like someone who has been trained his whole life to detect surveillance.
AJ POV~
Finally. Now we could actually get this mission started.
Maybe I was a little too eager to kidnap a man and interrogate him, but after the crap we went through yesterday, there was no way I wasn't looking forward to this.
"AJ, where exactly are we going?" Michel asked from the backseat of the Jeep, Dean sitting beside him.
Marcio answered before I could. "We're heading into the city center of Turin. There's a whole shopping district there so you two can replace your clothes."
Dean frowned. "What did Dad tell you guys?" I caught his eyes in the rearview mirror and smirked. "He just told us to handle some business. If Marcio and I disappear for a little while, don't worry about it. Just keep shopping until one of us calls."
His brows furrowed with confusion, but after a moment, he nodded. "Got it."
The drive into Turin took about thirty minutes. I pulled the black Jeep into a parking space along one of the busiest streets in the city.
The four of us climbed out, taking in the seemingly endless stretch of storefronts that lined both sides of the road. "So..." Dean said, rubbing his hands together. "Where do we start?"
Michel scanned the street before pointing across the road. "Corte Garibaldi."
Marcio nodded. "Works for me."
We crossed the street and stepped inside. The atmosphere immediately changed. The bright Italian sunshine disappeared behind us, replaced by warm lighting, polished hardwood floors, and neatly arranged displays of tailored clothing. Everything looked expensive.
Very Michel. Dad always said the way a man dressed reflected the respect he had for himself. Michel had definitely taken that lesson to heart.
Within seconds, he and Dean were already browsing racks and comparing shirts. Marcio and I stayed near the entrance. Neither of us had any intention of shopping.
We were watching. Turin was alive.
People flowed along the sidewalks in every direction. Tourists stopped every few feet to photograph the old architecture. Couples wandered hand in hand. Businessmen hurried past with coffee in one hand and phones in the other. Dogs barked as their owners strolled through the streets.
On the surface...everything looked perfectly normal. My eyes continued drifting through the crowd until one man caught my attention.
He sat alone outside the small café across the street. Every few minutes, he'd casually glance toward our store before forcing his attention somewhere else. His untouched espresso sat in front of him.
Judging by the way his face twisted every time he took a sip, he hated the drink. His phone rested on the table in front of him. He kept lifting it as though he were texting...except he never actually looked at the screen.
His eyes stayed on the people walking by. Watching, waiting. Too aware of everything around him.
I nudged Marcio without taking my eyes off the man. "Yeah," he murmured quietly. "I already spotted him."
Of course he had. Marcio was almost as observant as I was. I glanced back toward Michel and Dean. They were completely absorbed in arguing over two nearly identical shirts.
Perfect. I tilted my head ever so slightly toward the café. Marcio caught the signal immediately.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Let's play."
Alessandra Pov~
"Mom, I don't think you should've given them ice cream," I said as I watched Lia, Callie, Cata, and Dantae sprint around the little park we had found not too far from the house.
The four of them were screaming and laughing as they chased one another in circles, completely fueled by sugar.
Mom only chuckled and shook her head. "They need to have fun. Let them wear themselves out, and they'll crash the second their heads hit the pillows tonight." She linked her arm through mine as we watched the younger kids play.
I couldn't help smiling. Mom had always been amazing. She was beautiful, strong, fun, and somehow managed to make every place feel like home. I wished I was even half the woman she was.
"Come on, kids! Time to go shopping!" Aunt Mili called, cupping her hands around her mouth to make herself heard across the park.
A chorus of groans answered her as the younger kids came running back toward us. "Ma, do we really have to?" Leo asked Aunt Leena, genuine distress written across his face.
"Yes," Aunt Leena replied with an amused smile. "I never get to spend time with you."
Leo sighed dramatically before forcing a smile. "Fine..."
The rest of us laughed as he trudged toward her. Raf and I headed toward the SUV together. I gently bumped my shoulder against his. "You've been quiet all morning."
He glanced over at me.
"You okay?"
He nodded automatically before giving me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I guess..." he began quietly, "I'm trying to figure out why things like yesterday keep happening to us."
He looked down at the gravel beneath his feet.
"But then I remember who we are...and everything makes sense."
The smile faded from my face. "What do you mean?" I lowered my voice instinctively. "You think it would've been better if we weren't part of the Mafia?"
He let out a slow breath before shaking his head. "Who am I to complain?" A bitter laugh escaped him. "My father was a psychopath."
His voice remained calm, almost detached. "He tried to kill his own daughters." He glanced over at me. "Your grandfather... my father... which also makes me your uncle and your mom's half brother."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think we're just dealing with the consequences of the family we were born into."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"I don't know..." I finally said. "I think we're lucky."
He looked at me.
"We belong to the strongest Mafia family in the world. Our parents love us. Our aunts and uncles love us. We have cousins who'd die for each other without hesitation." I smiled softly. "Not everyone gets that."
I paused before continuing. "I think we should be grateful we weren't raised the way our parents were."
Raf stared ahead in silence. Then he shrugged. "Or..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Maybe we were both labeled monsters the second we were born..."
He stopped walking and turned to face me. "...and now we're expected to become exactly that." A humorless chuckle escaped him. "Just like our parents." He gave me one last sad smile before walking toward the SUV.
I remained where I was. Frozen. His words echoed through my mind. Maybe he was right. Maybe we never really had a choice.
Dad always said joining the Mafia would be our decision...but could it ever truly be a choice...when the world had already decided who we were before we were even born?
The entire car ride there, I remained quiet, the thoughts from my conversation with Raf running circles through my mind. They took up permanent residence in my head and refused to leave.
We arrived at a mall in the city, making sure to stay together and never split up. Of course, the guys noticed the Mafia men watching us from a distance like the creeps they were. But just like Dad had instructed, we ignored them.
I drowned myself with thoughts of shopping, trying to clear my head of the dreary thinking from earlier. I found the cutest top that I absolutely had to buy. I tapped Mom on the shoulder. "I'm going to check out."
She nodded. "Okay. Raf, Damien, go with her." They happily followed me, probably grateful to get away from our crazy mothers for a few minutes.
As I stopped in the aisle to look at a skirt that would match the top perfectly, I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around my waist.
I froze.
The guys had walked a few steps ahead of me. I knew it wasn't them. A cold shiver raced down my spine as a scream ripped from my throat. Before anyone could hear it, a rough, calloused hand clamped over my mouth, muffling the sound.
He dragged me backward.
I fought with everything I had.
The clothes slipped from my hands as I stomped down hard on his foot, but he was wearing heavy boots. He barely reacted.
I drove my elbow into his ribs as hard as I could. He grunted, and his grip loosened just enough for me to gasp.
"You finally came back to me, amore," his raspy voice whispered against my ear. "I'm never letting you go again."
Pure panic surged through me. Who was this man? I bit down on his hand with all the force I had. He cursed loudly and yanked it away.
"Raf! Damien!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
His hand immediately covered my mouth again. "Shut up," he growled. "Stay quiet, or I'll have to do this the hard way."
Isn't this already the hard way?
The next second his grip disappeared. I dropped to my knees, pain shooting through them as they slammed against the tile floor. Tears blurred my vision.
I looked behind me just in time to see Raf straddling the man, his fists repeatedly slamming into the stranger's bloodied face.
"I think he's out, Raf," Damien said, grabbing Raf's shoulders and pulling him back.
Raf's chest rose and fell violently as he glared at the unconscious man. His steel-blue eyes were cold. Murderous. I had never seen Raf like this before. Not once. It dragged my thoughts back to our conversation earlier.
Maybe we really were born with monsters inside us.
Maybe it had always been inevitable.
Damien hurried over to me after making sure Raf wasn't about to strangle the unconscious man.
"You okay, Ales?" he asked, checking me over for injuries. I nodded weakly as he helped me to my feet before pulling me into a quick hug.
The thunder of footsteps echoed through the store. Everyone came running, panic written across their faces. Mom rushed straight past me and knelt beside the unconscious man. She studied his bruised, bloodied face for only a second before looking up at Damien.
"Damien," she ordered, her voice suddenly all business, "call your father."