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“Then what happened?” Nico asks.
“Fucking Natalia Fiorenzo is what happened. I thought she was going to be an easy target. I was so fucking wrong. She turned out to be everything I never imagined I’d deserve,” I confess to him.
“You’re a fucking idiot you know that,” he says, shaking his head.
“I fell in love with the enemy.”
“You need to talk to her,” Nico says.
I shake my head. “I’m just like my father, using people to get what we want. She’s better off without me.”
“Don’t you see that you’re nothing like your father? You gave up the deal for her. You signed the papers setting her free. Do you think your father would have lost a deal like that for a woman, for love?” Nico asks.
“Of course not.”
“That’s your answer then. You did. It didn’t start out like that, but in the end, you made the right choice for love.” He grins.
“And look where that’s got me,” I tell him.
He rolls his eyes. “Let’s bury your childhood trauma first and then we can sort your future.”
36
NATALIA
“Thank you for coming with me,” I say, clutching my sister’s hand tightly as we walk into the service.
“Of course,” Allegra whispers, squeezing my hand back just as tightly.
As I walk down the long aisle, I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I try to hold it together. You can do this. Relief fills me when I see Nico and Rocco sitting together with their family. Nico sees me and seems surprised that I am here. He motions me over to where they are seated.
“You came?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say, taking a seat beside him, then introduce Allegra to them both.
“Thank you. He may not show it, but you being here will mean a lot,” he says as he turns the pages of the order of service pamphlet.
“I miss him,” I confess.
“He misses you, even though he can’t see it at the moment,” Nico tries to reassure me. I give him a small, understanding smile.
Slowly, the church continues to fill up with mourners, and I’m surprised at how many people are here.
The organs start, and we all stand and turn toward the back. I watch Alessandro, Romeo, and Valentino walking behind the coffin—walking behind their father and uncle’s coffin—their faces like stone. Alessandro’s mother and aunty are behind them, sniffling with each step. He looks heartbroken, and I know it’s because he blames himself. Tears stream down my face as I take in how broken he looks. All I want to do is make everything all right for him, but I can’t. I watch slowly as those slate-green eyes look up and land on me. They flare ever so slightly before he stares back down at the ground.
The service was beautiful, but I hated how Alessandro was the support for everyone else. He wrapped his arms around his mother and his brother, being stoic, refusing to let the tears fall, but no one did it for him. I wanted to be his person.
At the end of the service, the boys lifted their father’s coffin onto their shoulders and walked out of the chapel toward the hearse. People mingled around, offering words of condolences to the family.
“Should I say something to him?” I ask my sister.
“Yes,” she reassures me.
“But I haven’t met his mother, and his brother hates me,” I explain to her.
“You don’t have to talk to them,” she states.
Then I see Valentino off to the side, greeting the crowd. His eyes land on me. “Natalia,” he says warmly as he opens his arms, and I give him a hug.
