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Instead, she lifted the gun out of my hand and held it up, aiming it at his chest and pausing. “None of us will miss you, not for a single second.” She said and then pulled the trigger, emptying the entire magazine into his chest and stomach before clicking the gun multiple times with its empty slide locked back, like she didn’t realize she was out. Emilio fell to the floor, dead before his body landed against the marble with an ominous thud. Her chest rose and fell with exertion but she never lowered her still shaking hand.
“Give me that, sweetheart.” I covered her hand with mine, forcing her to let go of the gun. “Let’s go,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her temple and turning her away from the carnage laid out before her. When we got to the doorway I stopped and looked back, nodding to Luca. “Burn the entire estate to the ground.”
“Yes, Capa.” He responded, smirking down at Arianna as her brothers met up with us again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you have him.” She said to Carmine, “You two deserved that as much as I did.” I couldn’t tell if it was regret or shame that made her tilt her head to the floor but I wasn’t having it. And neither were her brothers.
“It doesn’t matter, Sunshine,” Carmine said, pulling her in for another hug. “As long as it’s over.”
“He had it coming from all of us,” Cristian affirmed, throwing his arm over her shoulders and kissing her temple. “Let’s just all move on from it. Together.”
“Together.” She smiled up at them and then over to me. “I like the sounds of that.”
Epilogue – Arianna
“Wouldyougetoffit, woman? I’m more than capable of feeding myself.” Matteo grumped from the room he was staying in on the east wing as I rounded the doorway.
“Knock, knock,” I announced loudly, holding out the basket in my hands as he and Molly looked up from where he sat in a chair next to the bed.
Molly rolled her eyes on the stool at his feet with a bowl of soup on a tray and the spoon held out for him like a toddler.
“Am I interrupting?” I joked with a smirk.
“Only if you aren’t here to call her off.” He complained.
“You know,” I set the basket down on the end of the bed and crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re no better at being a patient than Nico is.”
“I wouldn’t know, since he gets to leave the house,” Matteo complained and Molly swatted his leg.
“Is being here with me taking care of you all that bad?” She asked and I bit my lip to keep from chuckling at the trap she left out there for him.
He groaned and laid his head back on the chair with a sigh. “That’s not what I meant.” He lifted his head and relaxed his features. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to being souseless.”
I snorted and then waved my hand in front of my face embarrassedly. “I’m leaving. I just brought you some treats from Mrs. Bussa.” I winked at him. “I tried one and they’re delicious so you should shape up or Molly might take her mama’s sweet baking away.”
“Yes Ma’am.” He replied, thoroughly chastised and remorseful. “Thank you, Arianna.”
I nodded and winked at Molly, “Your mama asked if you were coming to dinner tonight, it’s been a while since they’ve seen you.” I said pointedly.
“I know.” She sighed.
“Give her a call. I think she thinks we’re holding you hostage in a tower up here.”
“I will.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Mmh.” I hummed, “Tood-aloo, love birds.”
They both groaned as I left the room cackling at their discomfort. They weren’t together, but I didn’t doubt that both of them would be angry if the other started seeing someone else though. It was just a chapter that they needed to walk down on their own, in their own time, and in their own way.
I just quite enjoyed teasing them about it along the way. To be honest, I liked having them both living inside of the estate in the east wing full-time for the last few months.
Matteo’s recovery had been slower than Nico’s simply because Nico was shot in muscle and bone, whereas Matteo’s bullet literally went into his brain. He was a walking miracle to even be alive; let alone be able to walk and talk like he used to. But he did suffer from lingering migraines, muscle spasms, and neurologic miscommunications that made it a concentrated effort for him to move certain muscles from the damage the bullet caused. He saw physical and occupational therapists every day. They came to Armarow and were helping his brain remap the signals that were sent to his body to operate it, and he was recovering.
It was slow, and he was frustrated, and it put a strain on a new connection that he had begun with Molly before the shooting. But they were going to figure it out, that was obvious to anyone that saw them.
They just had to figure it out for themselves.
I went searching for my husband, already knowing where I’d find him this time of day, so I headed to the basement where his state-of-the-art home gym was laid out.
