She leaned up and looked at me. “Because all of this will never end. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”
“A part of what?”
“This,” she said, spreading her arms out. “This family, this organization.” She stood up and walked toward the windows again. I bit my lip, trying to stem the tears that formed from hearing my daughter tell me she didn’t want to be a part of our family.
I stayed quiet while I waited for her to speak. She turned to face me and leaned against the window.
“I’ve lost everything, Momma. My husband, my son. I am almost thirty years old. I have no job, no work experience to even get a job. I never finished college. I have nothing.”
“You have us.”
I turned on the couch at Cian’s voice. The hurt and pain on his face broke my heart. I understood what Maddie was saying. I understood more than she would ever know.
I turned back to my daughter. Shame spread across her face and she cried, “I know, and I’m so happy you’re my dad...” She looked down at the floor.
“But you need more,” I said. “You need a purpose.”
“She has a purpose,” Cian said angrily. “She’s our fuckin’ daughter.”
I stood up and walked to Cian. “You don’t understand because you’re a man. In this life, you are trained as a child to run the business. To be a soldier and work your way up. And you’ve done that. You’re part of Sal’s inner circle, and I’m so proud of you.”
Cian raised an eyebrow. “But?”
“But it’s different for us.” I sighed and looked over at Maddie as tears streamed down her face. I walked over and stood in front of her as I spoke to Cian.
“We are trained as children to be a wife and a mother. We are expected to get married right out of high school, to someone our fathers chose for us, and start having babies. More soldiers, more captains.”
I placed my hands on Maddie’s cheeks. “I am so sorry, baby. I should have done more. I should have stood up to my father. I should have stood up to my husband.”
“You did, Momma. You fought for me to go to college. You fought for me to transfer without knowing why.”
“It wasn’t enough.” I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Taking a deep breath, I took my daughter’s hand. “Come sit down,” I said as I pulled her back over to the couch. “I want you to tell me all about my son-in-law.”
Maddie gave me a watery smile and looked over at Cian. He returned a tight smile of his own, but he joined us by sitting in the chair across from where Maddie and I sat.
For the next few hours, Maddie told us about how she met Salvatore Valentinetti. How they fell in love and kept their relationship a secret not only from us but from his family as well.
I knew Illyria. I’d met her on many occasions. Sometimes with her mother, Nicoletta, when they came to New York when she was a child. But more so after she married Maxim Fedorov and moved to Manhattan permanently.
We’d attended the same fundraisers; chaired some of the same charities. She was only a few years older than Maddie. But after everything she’d been through herself, being the daughter of a Mafia Don and the wife of the RussianPakhan, I understood Illyria more than most.
I didn’t love that she was raising my grandson, but I knew he was safe until we found a way to bring him home.
When Maddie told us about Henry, I couldn’t hold back the tears. The way she spoke about her son made me realize just how incredibly strong and selfless my daughter was.
She’d walked away from the love of her life, from her child. To keep them safe. To be sure he would grow up in a world that wouldn’t harm him.
And when she told us who helped her—the man who had made everything possible, keeping her marriage and son a secret from everyone—I realized why she’d been so upset.
Looking at my daughter and the pain she was in, I made a decision. One that would probably piss off everyone I knew. But I owed him. The man who helped my daughter.
Sal wouldn’t understand. He might be a father who would do anything to protect his children, but he wasn’t a mother.
Mothers were different. We endured more shit than we should, and we did it with a smile. All for our children. Theywould never know the sacrifices we made for them until they became parents themselves one day.
It was time to make another sacrifice for my daughter. One that might—no, would send ripples through the underworld. I just hoped what I was about to do wouldn’t become an international incident.
I woke up in Cian’s bed, alone. Maddie had stayed for most of the day, sharing videos and pictures of Henry as he grew up. Salvatore Valentinetti loved my daughter enough to let her go.
