“Goodnight,” they chorus back.
In Adalina’s room, she gives him a sweet smile. "Will you come back tomorrow?"
Luca's gaze finds mine, and it feels like he’s seeking permission, not just for tomorrow but for something more permanent.
I should say no. I should remember Dom's warnings.
Instead, I say nothing, caught between the life I've created and the one that could be ours.
After tucking the kids in, Luca and I retreat to the living room. The fort still stands, a monument to the evening’s fun.
“I’ll clean this up,” he says, picking up blankets and pillows.
“I’ll get us some wine.” I go into the kitchen, reconciled that for right now, I want him to stay. I pour us each a glass of wine.
When I return, Luca is plumping up one of the throw pillows. He then drops onto the couch. “Wow, that takes a lot of energy.” He takes the wine I hand him. “Is this how you cope?”
“Wine helps,” I admit, sitting next to him, although I try not to be too close. I have to maintain some distance.
Luca apparently doesn’t think so as he scoots closer to me. “Saluti.” He clinks his glass with mine.
“Saluti.”
Our eyes meet over our glasses as we sip.
My body begins to light up, and I have an urge to put our glasses down and jump him.
Instead, I ask, “"How did it go with your father?"
He sighs, staring down into his wine. “He was amazing, really. He didn’t like being reminded of his situation, but I think he knew it was time. He was gracious.” He scrapes his hand over his face. “He’s an amazing man. I’m not sure how I’ll live up to his legacy.”
I study him, seeing a man who isn’t an ambitious mafioso preparing to take power.
He’s a son grieving the slow loss of his father.
“Your father was always different. I remember being jealous of how Gabriella had so much freedom. I mean, I loved my father, but…”
“Many think my father gave Gabriella too much free rein, but she’s been incredible through all this as well.”
I think of Adalina and whether Luca would give her the same freedom to make choices in her life.
I shake the thought away.
I need to maintain the status quo.
"It must have been difficult to talk to him."
"It was the hardest conversation of my life." He takes my hand, squeezes my fingers. "The ceremony is in a few days. After that, I'll be Don Monti."
"You'll be good at it," I say, meaning it. "Your father prepared you well."
“I hope so.” He closes his eyes, letting his head fall back. It’s as if the ramifications of what’s coming are finally hitting him. It occurs to me that as Don, he won’t have the time to pursue clearing his name.
"With everything that comes with being Don, you probably won't have time to continue investigating my father's case," I venture carefully. "The family will need your full attention."
His head pops up and his expression hardens. "Is that what you want? For me to just let it go?"
"I want you to be safe. I want my children to be safe."
