Chapter 42 #3
Leo swallowed and nodded. "So he's just scared?"
"He's confused," I corrected gently. "And he's trying to understand where he fits in all of this."
Leo looked down as the silence returned between us.
“But I didn’t come out here just to talk about Antonio,” I said, and his eyes lifted back to mine.
“I came out here because I want to know how you are.” His jaw tightened, and I immediately recognized that look, the same stubborn expression he had gotten from me, the one that said he was hurting but would rather swallow glass than admit it.
"Leo."
"I'm fine." I almost smiled because of course he said that.
"I didn't ask if you're fine." He sighed, clearly frustrated, and muttered, "You're impossible, you know that?
" I raised an eyebrow and replied, "You inherited that from me," which earned a small smile from him, though it disappeared just as quickly.
"I'm not like Tonio," he finally said. His voice held a hint of frustration. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I know you and Mom love each other. I know you wouldn't change anything."
I nodded slowly. "Then why does it bother you?
" That question hit harder than he expected.
Leo looked away, and for a moment I thought he wouldn't answer.
Then his shoulders dropped slightly as he finally spoke, his voice quieter now.
"Because hearing all of it... hearing about Clara, hearing about what could've happened. "
He swallowed before speaking again, his voice quieter now.
“It makes me feel like I’m some kind of accident.
” My chest tightened at his words. “Leo…” I started, but he cut me off almost immediately.
“I know it’s stupid.” “It’s not,” I said firmly.
He shook his head, refusing to fully accept it.
“It just feels weird knowing my entire existence depends on someone else’s choice. ”
I stepped closer. "Listen to me." He looked at me. "You are not a consequence of someone else's decision."
His expression softened slightly. "You are my son. You are your mother's son. You are your brother's brother. You are part of this family because you belong here."
Leo blinked rapidly, fighting the emotion threatening to show. "I hate feeling like a 'what if.'" I placed my hand against the back of his neck. "Then stop seeing yourself that way."
His eyes met mine. "You were never a what if, Leo." My voice softened. "You were always my son."
The wall he had been holding up finally cracked, not completely, because Leo was still Leo, but enough. He stepped forward, and I pulled him into my arms. For a few seconds, he let himself just be my son, not a future leader, not a fighter, not someone expected to carry a legacy... just my boy.
"Your mother and I made choices. Good ones. Bad ones. Difficult ones. But none of those choices were mistakes because they led me here." I placed a hand against his shoulder. "To you."
Leo looked down, taking that in. After a moment, he spoke again. "Are you ready for her to come back?" I knew exactly who he meant. I took a slow breath. "Yes."
He studied me. "Really?" I nodded. "There's nothing Clara can say that changes my life now." A small smile pulled at my lips. "Besides, your mother has probably been waiting years to say a few things to her."
Leo let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah. I wouldn't want to be Clara when that happens."
"Neither would I." For the first time all day, the heaviness between us lifted.
As we walked back toward the house, I felt grateful. The moment we make our way back inside, I'm met with an urgent look from My boss.
AJ Pov~
Uncle Gio was already moving. The change was immediate.
His entire posture shifted, his shoulders squared, his expression hardened. The man who had just been having a vulnerable conversation with his son disappeared, replaced by the Mafia man everyone feared.
My dad stepped forward from the hallway, calm but deadly. He looked between Uncle Gio and Aunt Leena before speaking. "Clara just passed through the gates. She's almost here."
The room went silent. So this was it.
The moment everyone had been waiting for.
The tension that had weighed on us all day felt even heavier now, almost suffocating. Everyone had questions. Everyone had emotions they probably weren't ready to face.
And honestly? I just wanted this part to be over. I wanted to see the woman who had caused so much pain, confusion, and sacrifice. The woman who had somehow been both a ghost and a hero.
"Let's go." My dad's command was quiet, but everyone moved immediately. They followed him out of the kitchen and toward the foyer.
No one spoke, and no one needed to, until we heard it, the sound of a car door opening, followed by slow, unhurried, confident footsteps.
Like whoever was walking toward us had nothing to prove, like she owned the ground beneath her feet. The front door remained closed. For a moment, nobody moved, nobody breathed. We waited and waited, because after all these years... Clara was finally coming home.