Page 95 of Of Oaths and Secrets

He raises an eyebrow, a half smile tugging at his lips. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“There is one.” I take a breath, meeting his gaze. “I care about you—you know that. But I also know that I’ll make decisions you won’t agree with, and there will be people I’ll have to… remove. Some you might feel connected to, but I won’t apologize or explain. Every move I make is to protect my family and the famiglia.”

He watches me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I think he might finally tell me everything. But instead, he nods, a look of acceptance crossing his face as he stands up, ready to leave.

There’s a part of me that’s disappointed—waiting for him to release whatever it is he’s been holding onto. But I know that, for now, this is as close as we’ll get.

“Come for dinner tonight,” I say, my tone softer. “Nora would be happy to see you.”

He hesitates, then nods with a faint smile. “I’ll be there.”

As he walks out, I lean back, letting out a slow breath, feeling the weight of both expectation and duty settle over me. Whatever else Leo might be hiding, I’ll keep him close. I’ll watch over him.

Once he’s gone, I pull out my phone and dial Paolo, who picks up instantly.

“Miss me already, boss?” he says, his voice laced with casual humor that feels grounding.

“Leo’s handling his own mess, but I want you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t get in over his head.”

Paolo’s tone shifts to serious. “Got it. I’ll keep him out of trouble—as much as I can with Leo.”

“Good. And make sure he doesn’t know you’re watching.”

“Always,” he assures me.

With that, I hang up, staring out the window, feeling the complexity of family ties tighten around me. But this time, they feel like ties I’m willing to hold onto.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nora

Having Rafaele become capo so suddenly could have easily turned into a nightmare. But somehow, he’s managed to make me feel loved and cherished in every bit of time we spend together. I can see the exhaustion on his face, the way he’s settling into the role and shouldering a new weight. I’m grateful for his strength, even if sometimes the loneliness and fear settle into the empty spaces when he’s away.

More days pass, my belly grows, and so does my anxiety. I don’t want to burden Rafaele with it—even though I promised never to hide things from him. It’s not like he could change anything, and though I know he’d listen and reassure me, it wouldn’t be enough. The fears are buried deep in my soul, built from years of feeling inadequate, never quite enough.

With only four weeks left, I can’t stop wondering if I’ll be a good mother. What if I can’t handle the pain during flare-ups? Or worse… what if our daughter inherits my health issues? The nagging thought that somehow she might be unwell because of me shadows everything. I rub my belly, whispering softly, “I love you, my little miracle. Today, we’ll be brave together.” I know it’ll be a challenge with my parents headed over.

After finding out I was pregnant, I’d avoided them, apprehensive of their reactions and all the concerns they’d no doubt throw at me. To my surprise, they seemed happy, or at least as close as they could come to that. My mother’s critical eye has softened somewhat, and I suspect Rafaele had a hand in that. But today, both my parents are coming over for lunch. Rafaele offered to be here, but he’s on the hunt for some Russian and Italian traitors, and I insisted I could handle it on my own. We compromised—he’d come home early, and I promised to let him know if they crossed a line.

Just as we finish setting the table, the doorbell rings, and I instinctively take a step toward it, but Teresa is quicker.

"I'll get that," she says with a warm smile, already moving. Her protectiveness reminds me of Rafaele, and I feel so grateful for her presence. She's been like the motherly figure I never had, always there, kind and supportive.

I wait by the table as my parents come in. My mother is as impeccably put together as ever, her eyes sweeping over me in that familiar, appraising way.

“Oh, Nora, dear, you look… healthy,” she remarks, her gaze resting for a beat too long on my stomach.

I place a hand protectively over my bump, keeping my voice bright. “Thank you. I feel amazing.”

She offers a tight smile. “Well, that’s good… all things considered.”

I don’t take the bait and turn my smile to my father. “Dad, thank you for coming as well.” I was quite surprised that he offered to join my mother for lunch here—it’s really not his scene.

“You look spectacular, sweetheart,” he says, coming to hug me.

My father glances at the table and frowns. “Oh, isn’t Rafaele joining us?”

“No, he has to work, but he sends his regards.” I gesture to the table.

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