Catarina
Afew weeks pass, and soon we are into October. Things are getting easier. Work is helping, but the grief waylays me at the most unexpected moments, sending me spiraling again. Massimo is a living saint, putting up with my mood swings and caring for me with infinite tenderness. My husband is my rock. Every day, I offer up thanks for having him in my life.
I returned to therapy, attending weekly sessions, and that’s helping too. Massimo and I have a new morning workout routine. We jog along the beach or the grounds surrounding the house and then take a dip in the pool. Being in the water no longer terrifies me. It’s soothing, and it feels like I’m regaining a little part of the girl I used to be.
Double dates with Nic and Dario remind me life is for living, and like my husband said, it’s okay to smile and find enjoyment. It doesn’t mean I have forgotten all those I have lost.
We planted a tree in the garden to remember Renzo. Sometimes, I sit out there and talk to him. It helps even if Massimo’s men who guard the grounds probably think I’m crazy.
Things are working out smoothly with O’Hara, and we’re establishing a strong working relationship. The streets have settled. Our supplies are delivered on time, and we have seamlessly replaced the Russians with shipments from Rinascita.
Massimo and I amalgamated our teams. Although it’s still early days and there is a little disgruntlement among some of oursoldati, we are confident things will be okay.
Massimo and Fiero are in the process of relocating all their business operations to the waterfront property on Staten Island, and Nic and I are helping get the office ready for the employees who will be transitioning there next week. I am ready for a new challenge and looking forward to working with Massimo and Fiero in their business.
Vegas was successfully reclaimed with no bloodshed. The deportation of Anton and other high-ranking Russians caused a significant political storm. By the time Cruz and Alessandro led a team to retake the Salerno territory, the Bratva had scattered. Those who were left made a quick exit with minimal fuss. They aren’t a risk for now. They have suffered a devastating blow, and while they will recover, it won’t be for a while.
Anais and Cruz are now living there fulltime. My sister is refusing to take my calls, and it’s clear she has taken her husband’s side. I’m disappointed, but I’ve had too much going on to do anything about it. I’ll let things settle down and fly out to see her then.
I have a heavy workload, but I’m prioritizing my health and making time to look after myself more. Massimo is crazy busy with the relocation, so I ensure I’m home every evening to cook dinner. I’m enjoying losing myself in the kitchen. Cooking some of Mom’s old Italian recipes takes me back, and I find I’m remembering family dinners with our parents and Fernando with fondness instead of bitterness.
I am happier than I have been in years.
My cell vibrates as I chop garlic in the kitchen, and I put my knife down to answer Massimo’s call.
“Mia regina,” he says in that deep sultry voice I love, sending shivers cascading all over my body.
“Are you on your way home yet?” I ask, putting him on speaker while I resume chopping vegetables for the primavera.
“I’m going to be late. Something just cropped up, and we need to swing by our lawyer’s offices.”
“No problem. I hadn’t started cooking yet. Text me when you’re leaving, and I’ll put our dinner on then.”
“Have I told you how much I love you today?”
I grin at the phone like a bona fide nutjob. “You know you tell me every morning before we part ways.”
Muffled conversation happens in the background. “Fiero says I’m pussy-whipped and we’re turning into one of those cheesy lovey-dovey couples.”
A giggle bursts from my mouth. “I think we’re guilty as charged.”
“I don’t give a shit,” my husband says as more conversation happens around him.
“Me either. You’re busy. Go, my love. I’ll see you later.”
I finish prepping the dinner and cover everything with Saran Wrap before I place it in the refrigerator. Then I pour myself a nice big glass of chilled Sancerre. I’m making my way to the bedroom to change out of my suit when one of the guards manning the gate calls me.
“Sorry to interrupt, Donna Greco, but we have Leonardo Messina at the front gate asking to be let in.”
I frown, wondering why he would be showing up here unannounced. “It’s okay to let him through,” I say, making an abrupt turn and heading toward the front door.
I’m standing outside, sipping from my wineglass when he pulls up in a Lincoln Navigator with tinted windows.
Leo emerges from the back seat, walking toward me with a solemn expression on his face.
All the tiny hairs on the back of my neck lift as apprehension creeps over me. I push off the wall and straighten up. “What’s the matter?” I ask when he reaches me.
He wets his lips and clears his throat. “I need you to come with me, Donna Greco.”
