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Adam just scowls at her, then turns to serve people.
"That should keep him quiet for, oh, say, five minutes?" Glory states with a chuckle, and I lose it again when she turns around and I see she has a picture of my jean-clad ass on the back.
Three hours later, my final shift is over, and I can't wait to go home to a nice hot shower.
Bruce and Adam walk me to my Mazda, which I got when I swapped the Ford as a precaution. It might be old, but it is reliable. I give both men a kiss on the cheek and drive home.
Once I arrive at the apartment complex, I head up to the second floor. It's not much, but it's a roof over our heads. I get to my door, unlock it, and walk straight into my small living room. The light in the kitchen to my left is off. It’s a small kitchen; it can only hold a washer and dryer, a couple of cupboards with a sink, and a small fridge and freezer. It's enough for two, though. I look at my black sofa to see April sound asleep, and I smile while walking over to her to gently shake her.
She stretches, kisses me on the cheek, and says she'll see me in the morning for our Saturday breakfast. I lock the front door behind her, turn off the lights, and then head to my room right down the hall. The first door to my left is the bathroom, and I quickly take a shower and get into my pajamas, then head into the hallway. I get to the first door on my right and quietly go in. A soft pink light illuminates the room as I walk over to the princess bed I found at a garage sale and peek at my gorgeous little girl, Mila Maria. She's now two years old, and her dark hair, just like her daddy's, is a mess over her pillow. She also has her daddy's bright blue eyes. She's perfect and reminds me of him every day. It hasn't been easy, but I would do it again for her; she deserves to live a normal, free life, and I'm ensuring she gets it. I lean down and place a soft kiss on her forehead before wrapping her up a little bit more, then head to my room. Leaving my door open a jar, I climb into bed and fall straight to sleep.
Once again, I dream of what could have been if Damian had loved me.
twelve
Damian
I sit in my office, waiting for my father, mother, Stefano, Alexandr, and Sergi to arrive. We have business to discuss, and not family business, either, even though that's the only thing going right for us these days. This is about my wife, whom we've hopefully finally found.
My father is the first to arrive, and I stand up to greet him with a quick side hug. My mother is close behind and kisses my cheek. As soon as we separate, my brother and Sergi walk in, both giving me a head nod, then taking a seat on the gray sofa my wife bought for the old house as a gift for my home office. I placed it under the window overlooking the garden, another reminder of what a complete dick I was, but I couldn't part with it; she was so excited when she showed it to me.
Stefano is the last to arrive. He shakes my hand, and then stands near the door. I get right to it.
"Stefano had a call regarding a 23-year-old woman, dark hair with blue streaks in it, dark blue eyes, in Marfa, Texas. She's just completed her nursing degree. I've looked into it myself this time, and I think it's her. I had a discrete man go there and observe for a week, and I have some pictures here." I place the pictures on my desk and everyone looks on in utter shock.
Stefano is the first to snap out of it and starts picking up the pictures. I see the first one he picks up; she's wearing a black tank top, jean shorts, and brown cowgirl boots. Her hair is in a messy knot on the top of her head, some dark and blue strands fall down the sides of her face, which is clean of make-up, and she's standing in front of some woman called Gloria, who is wearing a t-shirt with my wife's face on it. Both women are laughing and look carefree.
"Yes, this looks like her, but I don't think it is Damian," Stefano states with a sigh, and I understand that he thinks I'm seeing things I want to see. I thought I was, too, until the next photo.
"Pick up the next photo, Stefano," I say in a deep voice. That snaps the rest out of their stupor, and they crowd around to look at the next picture. Standing next to a grocery cart is my beautiful wife. She's in a light blue, strappy sundress that falls just below her knees, with strappy sandals on her feet. Her hair is down, the blue streaks suiting her perfectly, and her face is again without make-up. Still, it's the things hanging from the necklace around her neck that automatically caught my attention—her engagement and wedding rings!
I know when they see them because my mother gasps out a small cry. She loved Sofia as a daughter, and when my parents found out why she left, my mother didn't talk to me for six months. My father was already aware, as was Stefano. My mother had to be restrained after she took Dad's gun, then went to the front door, clearly wanting to find Candice, Mindy, and Luna, too. The next morning, at the wedding brunch, Luna made a point of asking where Sofia was. Something about the look in my eyes scared her, but that didn’t stop her from shouting, "I'm sorry, I was drunk; I didn't mean to tell her we were together three years ago."
Her outburst only reminded me that my wife had helped her to bed, but it told everyone else that there were already problems in my marriage. My father and Sofia's father's faces turned bright red, my mother cried out, Emilia gasped and turned to her daughter in shock, while Victoria just chuckled, stating, "This is why I didn't want her to marry a mafia man, and why I wanted to leave with her when she was eight."
Stefano to flipped a table, none of us realizing Victoria had wanted to leave with her daughter.
Good times.
"It's my grandmother's ring!" my mother cries out, bringing me back to now. The men look through the rest of the photo's showing Sofia at college, visiting the hospital, going shopping, hanging out with her friends, and looking after her friend's kid. The picture only shows the back of the child's head, so we don't know what she looks like, but we guess she's around two or three.
"Who are these two guys she's constantly with?" Stefano growls.
"Partners, Adam Vernal and Bruce Thomas, both checks came back clean. They've been an item for five years," I stated while reading the report.
Alexandr slaps takes the report and reads through it. "So, she's okay, healthy by the looks of it, just completed her nursing degree while working full time, lives in a small apartment, and is close to her boss, the two men, and by the looks of the report, her neighbor April and April’s little girl. There’s also a woman called Rachel who works at a restaurant called The Tavern. So, what do we do?"
I swallow hard as my brother continues, "Do we fly there and bring her home, or do we let her continue to live her life where she seems to be happy, content, and carefree?"
I growl, picking up the paperweight on my desk and throwing it toward him. He ducks just in time, looking at me guiltily. I know I should leave her be, maybe send divorce papers, but I can't. I can't let her go. I'm too selfish. I need her. I have needed her since I was twelve years old.
I look into my father's eyes, which are so much like mine. He nods in understanding, seeing my determination to win my wife back.
"She's his wife, he is the next leader of the Bratva, a Pahkan, and the next Don of the Italian mafia. She needs to come home, but not because we force her to. Damian needs to woo her again, but this time, beg her and do everything he can to convince her to come home. It'll take time, but if he forces her, he'll lose her for good," my father says to everyone in the room while looking at me, and I'm now the one to nod in understanding. I have a lot of work cut out for me.
I look at Stefano, my brother, Sergi, and then my mother and, one by one, they nod.
My mother, though, walks up to me and hugs me, saying softly, "Bring our girl home, please, son." I nod and squeeze her tight.
