Dom furrows his brow. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”
She waves him over, her frail hand gesturing. “Come here, let me get a good look at you.”
Dom sets his case down and approaches.
Lucia pats Dom’s cheek with a nostalgic smile. “You have your father’s eyes.”
Across the room, Angelos scowls from the kitchen table, shovelling cereal into his mouth as if he’s trying to ignore the whole situation.
Dom flashes him a small, easy smile. “You must be Angelos.”
Angelos looks up warily, still chewing, then gives a stiff nod.
Dom ruffles his hair on the way past, casual and brotherly. “I’m your Uncle Dom. Don’t worry, kid—I'm the cool one.”
A tiny twitch of amusement flickers across Angelos’ mouth before he schools his expression back into teenage indifference.
Lucia chuckles softly. “He gets that from his mother.”
Dom smiles at Lucia. “I’m not so sure. Dan here has thesame broody look. Not to mention the emotional range of a teaspoon. I mean, it’s taken him over a decade to admit he’s in love with your daughter.”
He’s not wrong. I glance at my watch, restless. Visiting hours aren’t for another hour, but I hate being away from her, knowing she’s lying in a hospital bed because of a bullet meant for me.
Elio stomps into the kitchen, eyes blazing. “You think you can come in here like you own the place?”
Lucia exhales tiredly. “Elio. We’ve discussed this. They’re here to keep me and Angelos safe.”
He shakes his head, scoffing. “Oh, so you’re taking their side now? Have you forgotten these two plotted to kill your husband? And now you welcome them in with open arms?” He drags a hand through his slicked-back hair, gripping it at the roots. “This is insane.”
My stomach twists at the mention of that man. “Your father was a piece of scum.” The words leave a bitter residue on my tongue. “He deserved to die. My only regret is not making it hurt like the twisted punishment he ordered for our mother.”
Elio stills, his expression morphing into a cruel snarl. “Your mother was a whore. She probably asked for it.”
Breath leaves my lungs in a rush.
My vision tunnels.
Dom barely has time to move before I slam my fist into Elio’s face, launching him back onto the kitchen table.
Angelos’ cereal bowl clatters to the floor. Milk spills along the wood grain, and Angelos shoves his chair back with a screech, darting towards his nonna.
Elio struggles beneath my grip, but I force him down, one hand fisting the front of his shirt. My other hand snatches the closest thing—Angelos’ spoon. I tighten my grip around the handle, a sharp, burning rage overtaking me. I could take his eye out. Could serve it up in a bowl of soup for him tochoke on. In my head, I’ve already done it, but his eyes stop me.
Dark brown, but flecked with a deep shade of amber. Just like my brother’s.
My father’s voice a distant memory.Don’t harm the son.
A heavy click echoes behind me.
I freeze.
Elio’s security guard, Bruno, stands in the doorway, gun raised, the barrel trained between my shoulder blades. “Let him go.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. Every bone in my body wants to serve his eyeballs up on a platter, but Rose. I can’t get myself shot when she needs me.
I hear the metallic scrape of a knife sliding from a block before I even see it. “Put the gun down, or I’ll slit your throat before you pull the trigger.” Dom is next to Bruno with a knife at the guy’s throat in the blink of an eye.
“Enough.” Lucia's voice slices through the suffocating air, followed by a sharp cough as she fumbles for her oxygen mask. The room shifts.
