But Tino must have known before that, I think.
Now that I know the truth, I can see his features overlaying mine. My weird eyes are a mix of my mom’s green and Tino’s caramel. My nose is the same as Tino’s, and maybe even the shape of my lips. Yeah. I’m sure in my heart that Tino must have known exactly who I was all these years, but chose to stay out of my life for one reason or another.
MaybeMomwanted Tino to stay away, for her sake as well as mine. But I was always Mom’s favorite, and I think part of the reason for that was because I reminded her of the man she really loved: Tino Morelli, her neighborhood friend in childhood and her husband’s enemy as an adult.
Or maybe Tino understood the danger. If Howard Donovan, Irish Mob Boss, figured out his only son was actuallynothis—that his namesake was really the love child of his wife and his enemy—
Well, that’s exactly what happened. The Donovansdidfigure it out, or someone told him. And then Pops and Maggie wanted me killed. Ishouldbe dead. If Mom hadn’t pushed me out of the way at the last second, those bullets would have blown me away like they were meant to, instead of her.
One day, maybe, I’ll find out more. I know Mom had a diary somewhere, but it’s not like I can rock up to the family home in Boston and just ask for it. Not without getting myself killed, anyway. For now, I just try to concentrate on the happier stuff.
Like Celia and Frank finally getting the kind of place they deserve. They moved into our townhouse for a few weeks, but they’re moving out again today. Not back to their old place, but to another one of Tino’s properties not far away from ours. Celia has perfected the art of looking respectful while still being incredibly happy on the inside. I’m happy Luca and I can do this for them. Luca even made Frank Capo of his own crew on my urging.
“Frank’s not really the sort of man who…” he hedged at the time. We were in his study, poring over names and options and positions. I never realized just how complicated all this Mob stuff was until my baby became the Boss. There are a lot of positions to fill, a lot of men to test. Luca still suspects some Fuscone loyalists among the ranks, but he’s confident he’ll weed them out.
I’m confident, too, because I know my man. He was born for great things, and great things have now arrived for him.
“Give Frank a goddamn chance. He’s been in your shadow long enough,” I told him, and Luca had shaken his head, but given in.
“Maybe I should makeyouconsigliere,” he said, only half-sarcastically. “You’re so determined to give me advice all the time.”
I just shrugged. “Maybe you should. But even if you don’t, you still have to listen to my advice. Because I’m yourhusband, and youloveme,” I told him, and jumped into his lap.
Together, we are a formidable team.
It won’t be long now before we rule this City.
* * *
Finally,we are alone in our home.
Frank and Celia have left after our new tradition: Friday night family dinner. Marco and Angelo, our faithful bodyguards, have been sent home for the night. The house guards are outside, armed to the teeth, but the Fuscones and their allies have retreated for now, licking their own wounds. Neither side came out a clear winner in this battle, and the Feds are still picking through the rubble left behind.
But nothing’s going to stick to my man, because he wasn’t eventhere.
“Leave that,” I say to Luca now. He’s trying to stack the dishwasher, but he has no idea what he’s doing, God love him. “I keep telling you, we need to hire a maid.”
He gives me a warm smile, the smile he reserves only for me. “I don’t mind doing it. It makes me feel…cozy.”
“Then feel cozy in the morning. Right now I want you to be feelingme. Let’s go to bed.”
“Well, when you put it likethat…” He comes around the kitchen island and kisses me, long and deep, and I melt into him. “Fuck the dishes,” he says, coming up for air.
* * *
There’ssomething holy about making love to my husband in the marriage bed tonight, when we are finally alone and our enemies have been driven back for now. Luca tries to turn me over, wants to eat me out, but I don’t let him.
“Not tonight. I love that—”
“Iknowyou do,” he purrs.
“But tonight I want you up close and personal.” I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him tight to me, so I can feel the head of his cock rubbing against me, teasing my ring. I reach down and soak his dick with lube, playing with the veins and ridges all along his cock, stroke and tease until his arms are trembling as he keeps himself poised over me.
“Ready?” I ask, smiling into his face.
“For five years,” he whispers.
I rub his dick across my pucker again, spreading my thighs wide so my hole relaxes, opens up for him, and he slides in slow and deep, letting out a long sigh as he does. We’re face to face, lips to lips, breathing in each other’s soul as we move together as one in the bed, building the fire between us. I will never tire of my husband’s cock, and I tell him that as he pushes in even deeper.
