Emilio opened the door and I slid in while Santiago and Javier were secured into the seats beside me. I spent the entire car ride to the reception venue in silence. Seeing Emilio with his hand around Luc’s throat had woken some innate protectiveness over him. Regardless of the way he had behaved, I seemed to be struggling to let go of my feelings. Sitting next to him in church, close enough to touch and yet a million miles apart, caused my heart to constrict painfully, especially when the baby moved. The moment Luc put his arm around me for the photographs, it took all my willpower not to turn into him and spill everything to him then and there in front of God. But I couldn’t. Not in front of everyone, when I couldn’t be sure how he’d react. It was better to me to keep to myself until I could get him away from the crowd of guests.
As we pulled up to the venue, I played with the bracelet around my wrist. Luc had once said that it was a reminder that he was with me wherever I was. That thought had comforted me during the times I had felt my loneliest but perhaps it was time to remove it. Luc and I appeared to be beyond repair. In his eyes, I’d betrayed him and ruined his reputation. I couldn’t guarantee that he’d listen to reason, but I couldn’t rid myself of the hope that had blossomed after seeing him outside the hospital.
“Mia?” I startled from my thoughts to see Emilio had opened the door and held a hand out to me. Taking it, I slipped out of the car as gracefully as I could. “I should apologize for earlier,” he said to me.
“It’s okay.”
“I said I should, not that I am.”
Of course, Emilio wasn’t apologizing. I’d learned that Emilio Diaz did very little based on his emotions. He was cold and collected and calculated his plays with precision. The display between him and Luc outside the church was a warning that Luc was in his territory and respect was key. I was grateful it had been done without an audience, allowing Luc to save some face.
People milled all around, some enjoying the last of the warmth while others dived indoors to dip into food and drink and continue the celebrations. We weaved through guests, Carmen leading the way with her two boys, and stepped inside.
“I should say thank you,” Emilio said as we walked. I kept silent this time and a smile played on his lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Agreeing to the responsibility of being their Godmother.”
I doubt I had been Emilio’s first choice. There were probably a dozen or more women who could have replaced me in the church that morning, but I assumed Carmen had twisted his arm until he gave in. She seemed to have the unwavering power of bringing her husband around to her way of thinking. A skill I’m certain she was pleased to possess.
“It’s an honor and I’ll promise to do my best.” It felt fraudulent of me to have stood in the church and sworn that I’d help guide the children in the path of God when I didn’t even believe in Him. My promises were aligned more toward doing all I could to protect them and treat them as my own, should anything ever happen to Carmen and Emilio. And that was a very realistic prospect, so the decision of Godparents could not have been taken lightly.
“Mia,” Emilio started, but he was cut off when a man stopped in front of us.
“Emilio!” He was tall with broad shoulders and white hair swept into a tidy style. His suit was well tailored and his olive skin bore tan marks, as if he’d soaked up the summer sun somewhere substantially warmer than here. When he smiled, I saw the resemblance immediately.
“Isandro,” Emilio said, shaking the man’s hand with a firm grip.
“Beautiful ceremony and venue.” The older man looked around the room, still holding Emilio’s hand. “No expense spared, I imagine.”
Emilio let out a laugh, a wholesome sound that I hadn’t realized that he was capable of. “We’re lucky we own the place, or your daughter would make me bankrupt. You know her as well as I do. The boys will want for nothing as long as we’re alive.”
They finally released the hold and the older man turned to me. “My apologies. Isandro Nevarez.” He held his hand out to me and I took it. Unlike the rest of the men I’d met, Isandro didn’t raise my hand to his lips, but gripped it firmly and shook it as if we were closing a business deal.
“Mia, this is my father in law, Carmen’s Papa, Isandro. Isandro, this is Mia Griffin, a good friend to the family and now the Godmother of our children.”
“Family friend?” Isandro said, letting go of my hand. “Which side of the family would that be? Carmen’s or Emil’s?”
My brow furrowed in confusion.
“My side,” Emilio cut in, saving me from answering. “Both are from my side. We felt that was the best decision.”
Isandro surveyed me with a more guarded look this time before nodding. “I’m sure you’ve done what’s in the boys’ best interest,” he confirmed before looking at me. “You may want to avoid Imelda. She didn’t take too well to being replaced.” Then he changed the topic. “There’ll be some official photographs later this afternoon.”
“Of course,” Emilio said, through gritted teeth.
“I’ll make sure Carmen knows the exact time,” Isandro told us. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mia.”
I watched as his large form disappeared into the sea of people. “Why did he ask what side of the family I’m from?” I asked once he had joined his daughter. Carmen beamed with the smile she’d inherited from her father as he picked Santiago up into his arms.
“He’s just curious,” Emilio answered, watching his family fondly. “Isandro is still a little hesitant about his family being part of our business.”
Carmen had mentioned that she was an outsider like me. Not that you would believe it. The way Carmen could command a room and cut people down with a look and a few words would have you believe that she had been born and raised to be a mob wife.
“You said I was from your side,” I said quietly, “but I’m not really part of the family.”
“No,” he agreed with a ghost of a smile. “You’re a little more complicated, but you’ll always have ties here.”
