Mafia love

Things like that were too good for me.

Family. My own…

“I’m… pregnant. My, um… pills, um, birth control ran out before I got to Chicago.” She started to cry, and I hoped like hell she didn’t think I was mad. “With everything going on, I forgot I needed them, and I… I’m sor—”

I placed a finger on her lips. “No, no. Don’t say it. Don’t tell me you’re sorry. This is more than a dream for a guy like me.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, yes, yes.” Although my hands were shaking, I took hold of hers.

“You can’t let me deliver this baby by myself. I don’t want to do this without you. We need you.” She held my gaze.

“And I will be there. I will be there for you both, Amelia Rossi, because you are mine.”

For the first time in my life, a strong sense of purpose filled my soul. It mixed with the love I felt for her.

I would be there for her and be the kind of man she deserved.

The kind of man they deserved.

Eight months later…

It had felt like this day would never come.

It felt like a forever ago since I’d made that promise to Amelia, and while I’d seen her every month when she visited, it almost felt like I hadn’t seen her.

It was torture not being with her, torture watching her stomach grow and not being there to take care of her the way I wanted.

Torture just getting pictures of my baby’s scans and not seeing him.

Him.

We were having a boy, and we decided it was fitting to call him Raphael. We both came up with the idea. It felt honorable. I liked that.

Raphael Lucian Morientz. That was to be his name.

At least I got to have a hand in naming him.

It felt like torture not being there after for both of them.

But…

Today was the day that all changed. Today was the day when I’d shed my old life, this place, and all that I used to be.

Today was the day when I was going to be the man my goddess deserved and the kind of father my boy could look up to.

As I took that walk down the corridor that led outside the correctional facility, hope filled my soul.

The hope that came with a second chance. A second chance I desperately wanted.

I was reminded of that game I’d played once with Amelia when we’d first met.

The game of leaving behind the world and becoming anything I wanted to be.

This was real. No games. It really was real, and I could be anything now.

I’d had to put up with all ma

They were worth it.

And there she was…

As I emerged from the door, the door I’d only seen once in eight months, I saw her.

She stood by her car waiting for me. Pregnancy was a good look on her, and she’d grown even bigger than the last time I saw her.

Beautiful, my goddess.

She moved to me at the same time I moved to her. I wanted to pick her up and hug her hard, but I settled for the contact I got from holding her and our precious baby between us.

“Luc, you did it.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

I didn’t care what I looked like, but I started crying too. “I did. I promise you this will never happen to us again. I swear it.”

“I know. I know.”

I cupped her face, then lowered to my knees to kiss her stomach.

“Thank you for waiting for me.”

“As if I wouldn’t. I love you, Lucian Morientz.”

I couldn’t have felt more awe at her heartfelt words. “I love you too, and I am going to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

“Thank you. That works, because I plan to do the same thing to you.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“Well, it’s too late. I already went shopping and bought you a bonsai tree.”

I laughed. “Really?”

“Hmmm mmmm. It needs butterflies though,” she giggled.

“Okay, goddess, anything else we need?”

“Just each other.”

That sounded like everything I could ever want.

EPILOGUE

Luc

Two years later

“You know, I don’t know how you do it.” Maurice eyed Sinclaire dangerously.

I’d caught him watching Sinclaire full of suspicion all afternoon. The same way he did whenever he saw him.

He was doing the same thing now as my boy, Raphael, chased Sinclaire around the rose bush. I chuckled at the spectacle. Raphael could barely run on his little legs, but Sinclaire pretended to look terrified.

Claudius, Maurice, and I had been sitting on the terrace for the last hour watching them.

Amelia was out teaching her weekend ballet class.

This was something we did regularly and definitely when Sinclaire came to visit. We’d have drinks and watch the baby try to catch him.

“How do I do what?” I asked, knowing what he meant but just messing with him.

“He means have the cop here who wanted your woman and probably wants to steal your son,” Claudius filled in, sipping on his beer. He quirked a brow and narrowed his eyes at me.

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” I challenged.

“Yes. Course I do. The man’s still after your woman and he wants to steal your baby. Woman first though.”

“Do you see Amelia here?”

“That doesn’t mean squat,” Maurice jumped in, curling his lips under in distaste. “She’s teaching. He knows what time she’ll be back. Also, I saw him at the school, hanging around outside like a creeper.”

“What were you doing at the school? Signing up for dance lessons?” I laughed. “Pretty certain Amelia could give you a one-on-one and have you doing leaps through the air in no time. Come Christmas, you could be the sugar plum fairy.”

Even Claudius laughed at that.

“Very fu

“You don’t need to do that. What would you have done if Amelia caught you?”

“Dance, and style it out.” He nodded.

“Right.” Claudius shook his head. “I can just imagine you doing that.

She’d probably slap you for making a mockery of her profession.”

Like always, talking about dancing made me think of how much Amelia loved it. My wife loved dancing, and I was so proud to tell anyone who asked that she was a teacher and ran her own dance school. Her own dance school here in Chicago and a summer school in Italy I’d built for her on the grounds of the vineyard, where I set up business to procure the finest wine and grow the most exotic bonsai trees.

That’s what I did now for a living. Both there and Chicago. I put myself and my skills to good use, and true to his word, Maurice followed me wherever I went. He’d given up the mobster life too and worked with me.

“I still don’t trust him,” Maurice huffed.

“Nor I.” Claudius drank more beer.

“Well, I do,” I replied with conviction and returned my gaze to Sinclaire and Raphael.

We’d had this conversation many times. When Sinclaire came to visit, he didn’t just come to see Amelia. He came to see us as a family.

I owed him a lot. He’d made a lot possible for me. If not for him, I’d still be in prison seeing my sentence through with five months left to go.

There’d been no parole mentioned for me probably because that minimum sentence was all they could pin on me. My crimes were so much more severe than the punishment I’d received.