“Oh, what was left of Papa was found this morning in front of the train tracks.”
Dead.
Papa was…dead.
I shook my head. “Trains don’t run through the tracks by our house.”
It was a stupid detail to fixate on, but my mind chose to do that instead of process the information that my sisters, that my mother, and even me were safe.
“No,” Carmela explained. “He was across town. I don’t even think he was in the Morelli turf, but that doesn’t matter. He’s gone. Mom’s celebrating and taking us all on a vacation, and then when we get back, we’re selling the house and looking for somewhere else to live. Hopefully it can be closer to you,” she added as an afterthought.
My pulse roared in my ears.
I took a stilted breath.
“You’resureit was him?” I asked, risking a glance at the monster beside me.
That stormy gaze bore into me.
And I knew.
I knew Papa was dead. I didn’t need to hear my sister’s confirmation. It was done. The nightmare was finally over.
“Well, what do you say, cailín?” Liam smirked. “Should we take a honeymoon?”
I gave him a soft smile, and my chest tightened in a way that made me want to lean into the beautiful, masked devil forever.
I nodded.
Into the phone, I said, “We’re coming. Liam and I. And we demand free babysitting.”
“What?!” Carmela shrieked. The volume made me wince. “What do you mean,babysitting?”
My gaze clashing with Liam’s. Heat crackled in the short distance between us. “Oh, you’re an auntie. I never went to Europe. Had a baby instead. Papa made me give him up, and now that he’s back—”
I didn’t get anything else out before my sister’s scream filled the phone.
I pulled it away from my ear.
I’d been trying to keep the story short to get it all out before that reaction. It didn’t work.
While a thousand questions peppered the phone’s speaker, Liam mused, “Maybe we’ll need a mansion like the Grimaldi’s after all.”
The only reason I could think of was so that he could chase me through the dark halls and back passages.
A delicious buzz heated between my legs.
But that made little sense given the conversation.
“Why?” I blurted out. “Why a house that big?”
Liam shrugged and continued to rub his hand over Luca’s back.
The baby had stopped crying somewhere during the conversation.
My husband had the makings of a good father. I wasn’t going to be a helicopter mom who didn’t allow my partner to do anything. Liam was going to learn all about diapers and laundry, blowouts, baby spit-up—all the things I saw our housekeeper, Francesca, deal with—all the things I dreamed about wanting to deal with.
He was already perfect for it.
