Would he include me?
Our baby?
Later, when I couldn’t hide my pregnancy any longer, Don Vitale threatened to kill me for disrespecting him.
Since my father’s death, I was his to control, but I’d ruined myself and my value to him.
Dom stepped in to protect me, found me a place to live and gave me work.
But I knew that Don Vitale’s hate for Luca and his disdain for me would put my children at risk if he ever found out Luca was their father.
They’d be the perfect target for his revenge.
When Don Vitale died, his men swore allegiance to Dom, including their vow to seek revenge against Luca.
I don’t know what Dom or La Corona worked out that Luca hasn’t been killed since returning to New York.
But Gio’s comments tell me they don’t like it.
And if he and the others still loyal to Dom’s father knew the truth about me and Luca, about the kids, I don’t know what they’d do.
I do know they’re still willing to kill for a Don who’s dead now.
So the secret stays to protect us all. But it’s getting harder and harder.
Not just because Luca is home, but because my kids keep asking.
"Mommy, why don't we have a daddy like everyone else?" Adalina asked just last week.
Elio nodded beside her, while Rocco pretended not to care, though I caught him listening intently for my answer.
I told them their daddy lived far away, a half-truth that won’t satisfy them for long.
“He doesn’t like us?” Adalina asked.
“Who needs a daddy, anyway?” Rocco blustered.
The lie protects us all. If Luca knew the truth, he'd have every right to hate me for keeping his children from him.
The triplets would be caught in a war between Montis and Vitales.
There are men who are still loyal to Dom’s father. Men who’d exact revenge for him even though he’s dead.
I lift a string of lights, mindlessly wrapping them around my hand, wondering how much time I have before everything blows up.
How can I protect my children from the fallout when it does?
An unmistakable deep voice with its subtle Italian accent speaks. "I can see myself out, Dom." Luca's voice carries through the hallway, and my entire body goes rigid.
I clutch the lights to me as I move around to the back of the tree. Maybe he’ll just head out the door.
He has no reason to stop by the living room.
The footsteps grow closer. “Hiding again?”
My eyes close as I’m found out. It’s annoying and embarrassing.
I step from around the tree, and there he is, Luca Monti, standing in the doorway like a vision from my past.
