“You’re a magiacan now? Fantastic,” I roll my eyes as he finallyhands her the phone.
“Oh, I’ve always been good with my hands.” He winks at Rosario, and I grab him by the neck and squeeze.
“Relax, Uncle Bruno. Here I’ll hold Willow.” Lucas takes the baby from Rosario as I drop my hand from Abel’s neck.
“So fucking touchy. Alright sweetheart. Keep the call short. Don’t answer any questions at all, just ask yours. I’ll be monitoring from here. If I see anything strange, I’ll cut the call.” She takes a deep breath and nods.
She dials the number and holds the phone up to her ear.
The room grows so quiet that the sound seems to echo as if the phone is on speaker. It rings and rings, then finally goes quiet.
“He didn’t answer. He always answers. This is his private line. Only I and his closest member even have the number. He told me once that the only reason he wouldn’t answer was deathitself. Oh God, is he gone?” She backs up until she falls into a love seat, where she grabs her head and sobs.
“No. If Jose had died, we’d know. The world would know.” I’m certain of it.
“I’ll figure it out. I’ll find him. I swear.” Abel says from his computer, his eyes fixed on me with a look of determination I haven’t seen in years.
He might be retired, but he still knows his shit. If anyone can get his job done, it’s him.
It was a beautiful baptism.
We watch Willow with her new godparents as soft music plays in the livingroom where the family has gathered to celebrate our daughter. Rosario is sitting in my lap, half asleep, as I sip on a bourbon Lucas placed in my hand.
“She’ll never feel alone or isolated. They’ll always have her back, won’t they?” I grin behind the tumbler as she sighs happily in my arms.
“Never. She’s offically a legacy of the club. She’ll have an entire brotherhood of bikers at her back should she need it, but honestly, she already had all the protection she needed being our daughter. She might not be able to take over the Familigia, but no one would dare come after the great-granddaughter of Luis Miguel Battle. It would be suicide.” She hums her agreement.
“I hope she never needs any of them.” I lift my glass.
“I’ll drink to that.” The doorbell rings as I sip the amber liquid.
“Shit, Bruno,” Lucas calls from the doorway.
“Oh, presents!” Dom says, running up to his father, who scoops him up before he can touch the white bow with a red bow.
FUCK.
I slowly move Rosario off my lap and stand to meet him at the door. I look the box over before I pick it up and bring it to Rosario. The card on the top is addressed to her and Willow. She takes a deep breath and opens the card.
I have and will always love you.
Live well.
Protect eachother.
“He’s not a man of many words, is he?” I muse as she opens the box.
Her wedding dress is lying inside with a letter for Willow and a date written underneath.
Willow Sofia Romano
August 5, 2045
“That’s her eightenth birthdate.” Rosario clutches her chest and lets out a small sob.
“We have time. He gave us the gift of knowledge. We’ll figure it out.” I soothe her, but she shakes her head.
“Safe her from what?”
