I had always served accordingly, but for the first time in my life, lines were blurring.
My feet stopped right outside of her building, refusing to go any further. Laughter echoed from above me. My brothers had all gathered to keep Amora company while I met with my father. Romeo had brought one of his games over for them to play.
Amora and Scarlett had hugged, rocking back and forth, when Scarlett and Brando had arrived. They both cried. I had looked at my brothers, and the four of us shrugged at the same time. It seemed as if Carmen and Juliette fell in love with Amora at first sight. My brothers all approved of her as well. She had that powerful way about her.
I had never felt the power leave my body, going directly to my second heart, but it was ruling my feet and the directions in which they stepped—all because of the power she held. She was magnetic, and wherever she went, I longed to follow. I did not think it was even a choice.
Myfratello, Brando, came directly to mind. All the times he could not bear to turn his back to his wife. She had been pulling him. I did not understand this until that moment. The strength in it.
Rosaria would throw back her head and laugh at it. “You would think he was a puppy!” She’d make a childish noise. “Not a deadly cat claiming the Fausti name! A beast follows behind a spinning doll as if he has been leashed! How does this make sense?”
My eyes lifted and found Brando standing in the window. Hewas staring down at me. He’d watched me this way before. When I would leave in the past. I had never stopped before and acknowledged him. I was standing where he had many days and nights of his life. Not willing to move—not willing to feel the distance between him and his wife as though each mile away from her equaled a step toward the hangman for him.
My hand slid over my chest.
He grinned at me.
Fucking grinned at me.
However, I did feel my older brother’s concern for me. He seemed to empathize with my struggle, even though he had never experienced the same. I was still grieving for the loss of Rosaria Caffi. We did not share love, we did not even remember what our understanding had been in the beginning during our end, but I felt her loss was in vain. No matter how far she separated herself from my sons, a part of her heart belonged to them. That part was gone and would never return.
A soft figure stepped in front of my brother, not even caring that he was a monster compared to her, lifting her hand to me in greeting. From behind her, it seemed like candlelight lit her, outlining her in a hazy glow, and she was the most stunning vision my eyes had ever seen—a romantic painting I demanded to live in.
To die in.
Right in the heart of it—her arms.
I lifted my hand in return, and after she kissed her palm, she closed one eye, adjusting her hand against the window so it would look like it was pressed against mine.
Dream a little dream…
The romantic music coming from the apartment seemed to float out before the door shut and Margherita stepped toward me.
“Hiya, handsome.” She stood on her toes, ruffling my hair. “Whatcha looking at?” She narrowed her eyes before she turned, then laughed quietly. “I love her for you, Rocco, and you for her. I know…I know the timing is…almost… vicious, but Ari is…she’s your Scarlett. Your everything that everyone else has had and you’ve always deserved.” She hesitated before she continued. “You, out of all of these men, know better than anyone else that the Fausti family is not an ordinary family. It’s loyal, but it’s also vicious. If it were a man, his red flags would be made of blood. And as romantic as it is, it still wasn’t made to love you back. You need love, Rocco. You deserve love. Everyone does, even the men who carry the Fausti name.”
When she turned back to me, her eyes had welled, and a few tears ran down her cheeks. I curled my knuckle up and dried them. She laughed, but I couldn’t find the humor in it. Something was plaguing this woman, and that was not normal. She was as wild and carefree as the flowers that grew on the Tuscan hillsides.
“Walk me home?” she whispered.
I gave her my arm and she took it. Before we walked away, I caught sight of Scarlett next to Amora at the window. I did not like the look in her eyes. I held tighter to Margherita’s arm, and she held tighter to me, sighing.
“I will carry you up the steps,” I said.
She laughed. “Even though that would be fun, it’s not necessary. We’ll just take them slow so we can talk?”
I nodded.
It was not until we reached the top of the island that she found her breath to speak to me. She looked into my eyes.
“You, Dario, and Romeo have accepted me with nothing short of true acceptance and respect. I know it’s instilled in all of you, but I’ve alwaysfeltthe truth behind it. Even if the…situation between me and Luca was not always easy on you. Your father’s marriage was arranged and…. there I came, ruffling it all up. I truly have no regrets about doing that. It’s what love does. It ruffles us. Makes us forget the rules and live in the direction of our own happiness. I’m pretty sure I started a ruffle in this family, too, followed by Scarlett—we’re not exactly the type to fit in, and neither is Ari. I prefer to call us trailblazers though.” She winked.
“But as Brando would say, if he ever spoke of it, I was notalways present as a mamma. It’s been my honor to relive that part of my life with all my sons and grandchildren. I consider you the son of my heart, Rocco, and your sons the grandsons of my heart.”
Leaning down, I kissed her softly on the cheek. Her eyes were still closed when I rose to my full height. Two more tears ran from her eyes, but this time she hastily wiped them away.
“Thank you,” she whispered, understanding my response was in the tender kiss.
I had fallen in love with Margherita, though she was right. She was a warm figure, but not a particularly motherly one, but she tried, and in her trying, my heart had accepted her in the role she molded for herself in our lives.
