A nurse was in Fausto’s room, reading his vitals, when I walked in. His heart machine started beeping wildly when he saw me.
“Ma che cazzo?” Fausto rasped.
“Hello, husband.” I walked over to the bed, ignoring the dark glare he sent my way. “How does he seem today, Angela?”
“Much better, signora. No sign of infection and he is gaining his energy back.”
“Oh, good.” I smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, which was now coated with whiskers. “Ciao, baby.”
Fausto was absurdly attractive when he was clean-shaven, but that was nothing compared to how hot he looked with a beard. There were even some gray hairs in his scruff, which gave him a daddy vibe I definitely dug. I would beg him to keep some facial hair when he felt up to playing with me again.
“You are not supposed to be here,” he said when the nurse walked out.
“And yet, here I am.”
“I should call Marco and have him lock you up in the dungeon.”
“But you won’t because they are busy with other things that are more important than me.”
“Nothing is more important than you.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.” I pressed my lips to his. Even though he didn’t have much energy for kissing, I still liked the warmth of his mouth, the feel of his breath on me. The reminder that he was still here.
“Who brought you?”
“I’m not telling you.” I knew better than to rat out my accomplice. I dragged an armchair closer to the bed. “Maybe I drove myself.”
“If you did, then I will spank your ass, moglie.”
“You’d have to catch me first, marito.”
“I won’t always be in this hospital bed. Then I will make you pay.”
“Boy, you are feeling better,” I grumbled. “I almost miss the groggy-and-too-tired-to-boss-me-around Fausto.”
“You like when I boss you around.”
I kissed his temple and whispered, “True.” Then I dropped into the armchair. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been shot. You look tired.”
“I’m fine. Just working long hours.”
“Are you eating and sleeping enough for a pregnant woman?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I think so? I mean, I don’t know. My last doctor’s appointment didn’t happen for obvious reasons, and I’ve been too distracted with everything to reschedule it.”
Fausto grabbed the controller on the bed and pressed the call button for the nurse.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Do you need something? I can get it for you.”
Angela came in right away. “Yes, signore?”
Fausto didn’t give me a chance to speak. “Send up the best obstetrician on call. It’s an emergency.”
Oh, he was too much. I gave Angela an apologetic look. “No, it’s not. Just whenever the doctor is free. Grazie, Angela.”
Whatever the nurse saw in Fausto’s expression had her nodding. “I’ll send the doctor in immediately.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” I told him when we were alone. “They will all be very glad to see you go when you leave in a few weeks.”
“Days, you mean.”
“What? You’re coming home in a few days? Is that safe?” I looked at the machines and thought about his injuries. He’d almost died ten days ago, for fuck’s sake. No way was he ready to leave this place.
“Do not worry. Marco is having a bedroom in our wing converted to a hospital room. It’ll be safer for me there.”
I supposed that was true. And it made my banishment from the hospital a non-issue. “He’s hiring a team of nurses, I hope.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to play nurse, dolcezza. Though I would very much like to see you in the outfit.”
Dirty man. God, I loved him. “I’ll buy one for when you’re feeling better.” Then I remembered we had things to discuss. I quietly told him about the sleuthing I’d done on Facebook and what I learned about Vic and Agent Rinaldo.
His eyes were soft and proud when I finished. “You are very clever. Good work.”
“Thank you. It felt really nice, I’m not going to lie.”
“Toni says you are very good with the businesses. That you have an easy way with the employees and a head for the work.”
I grinned and batted my lashes at him, preening. “I like it. I mean, some of the conference calls are boring, but for the most part I’m enjoying it.”
The side of his mouth curled. “It’s good that you took it on, so Giulio could focus on other things.”
I licked my lips. “Yeah, about that. We need to talk.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, it’s about Giulio.” Fausto’s face went blank, like a window had been shut, and I winced. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear it, but he’s miserable. Not only that, he looks terrible. He doesn’t want to do it, baby.”
“He will come to terms with it. Don’t worry.”
“You’re wrong. He’s seeing a glimpse of his future right now and he doesn’t like it. He’s deeply unhappy.”
“I did not take to it right away, but I came to settle in and accept it. The same will happen for my son.”
He wasn’t hearing me. He was stuck in his primogeniture mafia fantasy world. I pressed my hands together like I was praying. “Fausto, please listen to what I’m telling you. Giulio is not you. He’s a completely different person, and I’m worried about what this is doing to him. He’s in a dark place.”
“What does this mean, dark place?”
He practically sneered, so I gentled my voice. “His mental health. I’m worried.”
“You young people and your mental health. Your generation needs to toughen up.”
The number of offensive things in those two sentences made my throat ache. “Listen, boomer, this is not about toughening up. This is about your son being miserable enough to do something drastic.”
He grew very, very still, his blue gaze watching my face very carefully. “Such as?”
“I don’t know, but I’m concerned. You are asking him to sign up for a life of celibacy and loneliness. Of misery and death. Don’t you want him to be happy?”
“Money and power make men happy, dolcezza.”
Oh, he was annoying. I gave him a pointed stare. “Really, husband? Is that what makes you happy? When we were separated, was all that money and power keeping you warm at night?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. “What would you have me do? Give it all to one of Marco’s boys?”
“Yes,” I said emphatically. “Toni also has sons. There are other Ravazzanis to take over besides Giulio.”
“It should be my son,” he hissed. “The leader has always come through my family.”
He was starting to get agitated, the beeps on the monitors growing louder, so I patted his shoulder and gave him one last piece of advice. “Perhaps it’s time for change, then. Because you have to let Giulio choose.”
“I will handle my son,” he said harshly.
I knew he was irritable and feeling powerless, but I would not allow him to take it out on me. “In case you’ve forgotten, this marriage is a partnership, Fausto. There isn’t your life and my life. There is only our life. Capisce? And the lives of our children, who we will parent together.”
“Perdonami. You are right.”
A quick apology? Hmm. Maybe he was learning, after all.
Closing his eyes, he let out a tired breath. “This is why Marco should have locked you up.”
I bent and pressed a kiss to his hand. “It would never work, bello.”
He remained silent and kept his eyes closed. I could tell he didn’t have the energy to argue, and I hated to push him while he was still recovering, but I was truly worried about Giulio. This problem couldn’t be ignored, and it would take time for Fausto to wrap his mind around the idea of offering Giulio the choice.
A knock sounded on the door and Fausto’s guard appeared. “A doctor for the signora,” he said.
“They may come in,” I answered, rising.
An older man walked into the room. He immediately bowed his head toward my husband. “Signore Ravazzani. An honor.”
Fausto explained that I had missed a doctor’s appointment, so he’d like me and the baby checked out.
The doctor smiled and nodded at me. “Sì, sì. Signora Ravazzani, come.”
“No,” Fausto said. “You will do it here. She does not leave my sight.”
“But signore—”
“Here,” my husband insisted. “Bring the machines or whatever.”
I opened my mouth to argue this was too much, but Fausto’s expression said I’d better not. He was deadly serious that I remained in this room. I smothered my irritation. I’d already upset him enough about Giulio. No need to add to it.
The doctor nodded and backed out of the room. I smirked at my husband. “Do you have a secret pelvic exam kink I should know about?”
Frowning, he closed his eyes. “That attitude. You get bratty when you think I cannot discipline you.”
True. “Then get better, amore, and you can spank me again.”
“Believe me, I will.”
Minutes later, an orderly brought in a padded table and set it up, then a nurse brought in an ultrasound machine. He instructed me to change into a gown and wait for the doctor. The obstetrician returned and washed his hands, while asking me simple questions about my last exam and general health. He gloved up and dabbed at his forehead with a paper towel, casting nervous glances at my husband, who was watching everything very intently.
The doctor listened to the baby’s heartbeat first, and the reassuring whoosh, whoosh, whoosh made me smile. Then came time for the internal exam and his hand was shaking as he inserted the wand into my vagina. I tried to make jokes and talk, anything to keep the mood light, but nothing really helped.
On the small screen there was the tiny bean, shifting and moving inside me. The doctor began taking measurements and pictures, and praised Fausto for creating such a beautiful baby. I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling.
“The bambino, he looks good,” the doctor said when he finished. “Your son will be strong.”
My mouth fell open. Did he just . . .? Without asking first?
Fausto, on the other hand, grinned. “A son?”
The doctor’s head swiveled between me and Fausto. “Sì. I assumed . . . You were told, no? You are having a boy.”
Fausto
I didn’t sleep much that night.
Lost in thought, I watched Francesca on the bed in the corner, the even rise and fall of her chest as she slept. A son. I hadn’t lied when I said I preferred a daughter. Sons brought too much heartache, too much worry. I had done everything to mold Giulio into the man to lead my family, yet I’d failed. He didn’t want it.
You have to let Giulio choose.
Two weeks ago, before I was shot, I wouldn’t have cared about his feelings. He was the Ravazzani heir with a duty to me, to the family, and his wishes didn’t matter.
But I could no longer say this was still the case.
As I bled out on the sidewalk, I thought of those I was leaving behind, including Giulio. My good boy, who’d only argued with me once, and it had been over his lover, Paulo. He would do whatever I asked, even at the expense of his own happiness. But did I want that life for him?
I’d hated my own father, who hadn’t once shown any regard for my thoughts or feelings. We weren’t close and his death had come as a relief. Did I wish for my own son to feel the same at my passing? When Giulio was born, I vowed to have a different relationship with my son, but life came along and I fell into predictable patterns.
You have to let Giulio choose.
My heart twisted, more pain flooding my body. I didn’t want to do it. Probably because I knew what my son would choose—and it would not be me. I would lose him. And I wasn’t certain I could bear it.
The door opened and I assumed another nurse was coming to check on me. Except it was Marco, and he looked as exhausted as I felt.
When he saw I was awake, he came in and pulled a chair over to the bed. “Giulio told her not to come,” he said. “She’s a force of nature, your wife.”
My eyes drifted toward my sweet girl once more. Such trouble, my dolcezza. “I know.”
“Did she tell you about Vic?”
“Some. Why don’t you tell me the rest?”
Quietly, he outlined the confession he and Giulio had obtained an hour ago from Vic. “Enzo threatened Vic’s mother and sisters to gain his cooperation in stealing the money. So Vic hacked into your laptop and put keystroke software on it, just long enough to get access to the bank accounts. Enzo wanted to steal more, but Vic grew nervous after the kidnapping.”
I also changed my passwords routinely, so this would’ve made it harder. “What about Rinaldo?”
“After Frankie’s return, Enzo made it clear she was still a target, and Vic claims he worried something terrible would happen to her. He sent in his aunt to pose as a GDF agent. The hope had been to make the GDF threat credible enough that Frankie would lie low, be on her guard, and stay inside the castello.”
I let out a derisive sound. “Does the coglione think this will win favor with me?”
“No, he isn’t that stupid. What do you want me to do with him?” Marco asked.
My chest burned but it had nothing to do with my injury. I wanted to make Vic suffer for allowing Francesca to be taken. For turning against me and helping my enemy. An example had to be set. “Let him sit until I get home. I want to see to it personally.”
“Before you do that, maybe we can use him to draw out Enzo’s location?”
“Good, yes. Do that sooner rather than later, before Enzo grows suspicious over Vic’s absence.”
“I will.”
“How is Giulio?” I asked.
“Tired but he’s holding up.”
“Francesca said he’s miserable.”
Marco shifted in his chair and smoothed his trousers, something he did whenever he was trying to buy time before offering up an answer. “It’s tough. He’s not like you, Rav. I don’t know what to say.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “We’re having a son.”
“Complimenti, cugino!” He nudged my shoulder. “Auguri e figli maschi!”
The popular wish for many sons twisted in my chest. With sons came disappointment. “I hoped for a daughter,” I said with a heavy sigh.
“Don’t worry about Giulio. He’s still young. You know men his age. They are full of come and rebellion. After marriage he will calm down. ”
I didn’t think so. I hadn’t been like this at his age. I had taken on more and more responsibilities, eager to prove myself. Listened to my father’s advice and the advice of my elders. I never questioned orders, never let my father or my crew down. But I’d failed in instilling this same drive in my son.
I shoved all that aside to worry about later. “How are the plans to bring me home?”
“The room should be finished tomorrow or the day after. The equipment is being rushed and we’ve hired three nurses, all vetted. David is moving in until further notice.”
Good. I liked having a doctor in the family. “I want you to come back in the morning and take Francesca home. And keep her there, Marco.”
“I will, I will.”
“Check on Giulio tonight before you go home, will you? Make sure he’s eating and sleeping.”
“Of course. Do you need anything before I go? Something to eat—oh, wait.” He tapped his temple as if he’d just remembered. “I forgot. You cannot have food.”
Bastard. He hadn’t forgotten. “Zia is still trying to sneak in her veal ragù. It’s torture.”
Marco chuckled softly. “Should I grab anything for your wife when I go by the castello tonight? Something she might need in the morning?”
This was new. Marco wasn’t usually so considerate toward Francesca. “No. She chose to slip out the door so she will live with the consequences.”
He stood and leaned to kiss my head. “Try and get some sleep, eh? It’ll help you heal faster.”
“I know this isn’t easy on you, cugino. Thank you—and tell Maria thank you, as well.”
“My wife and I would do anything for you, Rav. You know that. But you’re welcome.”
My cousin left, closing the door softly, and I looked over at my wife. “You can stop pretending to be asleep.”
She rolled over and stretched her long limbs. The low hospital lighting casted her in a soft glow and she was like a beautiful golden angel. My heart turned over, the love I felt for her nearly spilling out of my body.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said.
“Come here.”
Instead of obeying, she put her hands under her cheek and looked at me. “Where?”
“Come, lay down next to me.”
“Fausto, there isn’t enough room in that bed. I’ll hurt you.”
“No, you won’t. I need to hold you right now. Ti prego. Come squeeze in next to me, bellissima.”
Her gaze softened and I knew I had her. She unfolded from the small bed and padded over to me. She wore just a t-shirt and panties, and she’d removed her bra, so her breasts swung beneath the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Cristo, I wish I felt better. My dick hadn’t even twitched since I had been shot, but mentally I still craved fucking her, touching her.
Brow furrowed, she went to my uninjured side and lowered the rail. “How is this going to work?”
I lifted my good arm and tried to make space for her. “Get in.”
It took her a while and I had to hide a wince or two, but she made it work. She stretched out on her side and cuddled ever so gently to me. It was the first time I’d held her since the shooting and my body relaxed, settling into the uncomfortable mattress. “I have missed this,” I murmured, closing my lids.
“Me too.” Her lips found my throat. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”
“Ti amo, Francesca. No matter what happens in the future, know that I love you with everything I am. When I was dying on that street, my last thought was of you.”
“Oh, baby.” She pressed closer. “I don’t want to think about that ever again.”
“Nor do I.”
“I should never have asked you to delay killing him. If I hadn’t—”
“It does no good to dwell in the past. I don’t blame you or Emma. I had plenty of time to kill him before your sisters came, but I enjoyed toying with him.”
We were both silent for a few minutes, the sound of the machines in the room our only companion. She finally said, “I can’t believe we’re having a boy.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“I’m . . . nervous. I want for him to be able to make his own choices when the time comes.”
I thought of my first son, at home and miserable. “No one has a choice in this life.”
“That’s not true. Furthermore, it shouldn’t be true. Would you have chosen anything different if your father had allowed it?”
“No. I loved the life. Never once did I want to do anything else.”
“But that’s you.”
I forced myself to give voice to my greatest fear. “He won’t choose me.”
She was quiet, her breath gusting over my throat and making me shiver. Finally, she said, “No, but he will choose himself. And isn’t that more important?”
“You will never see him again,” I snapped. “I will never see him again. He will need to disappear to stay safe. Change his name, his looks. All because he refuses—”
“Stop right there. He’s not refusing anything. He’s done everything you’ve asked of him, even at the expense of his own sanity. He wants to make you proud, but think about what you’re doing for a second. What kind of life are forcing him into, secrecy and lies? Celibacy and loneliness? It’s beyond cruel.”
“It’s the only way to keep him safe.”
“Except for letting him go and giving him a chance to find true happiness outside the mafia. You have to accept it and let him decide.”
The plaster ceiling wavered as my eyes filled. She made it sound so easy, to give my son a choice and watch him walk out of my life. That wasn’t how things were done here. We were all about family and legacy, and even Italians not in the mafia stuck close to home. I raised him myself after Lucia died, every moment of his young life forged into my brain. It was like asking me to cut off my arm and never notice its absence.
“Baby, I know this is hard,” she said quietly. “But as parents our job is to put our kids first. Always. I know you love him, which means you have to give him a choice. If you don’t, it will kill him.”
I was too exhausted to think about it any longer. I closed my eyes and let myself drift to sleep.
