Page 93 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

Signora Venturi finally turns to face me, andfor the first time, her eyes soften. There’s still a weight to her gaze, anunspoken warning that she won’t tolerate any harm coming to her sons. Butthere’s something else, too.

Acceptance.

She reaches out, brushing a wet hand over mycheek. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for.”

I smile and blink back the sudden rush ofemotion. “I had to be.”

“Us women, we have to be strong. In secret,without showing it, we bear the weight of our families, steer our men to makegood decisions, and guide our children even when they seem to lose their way.It’s our burden but also our blessing.” She rubs her hands on her apron. “I’vewaited for a long time for my sons to find a woman worthy of their love. I’dgiven up hope for Luca and Antonio.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “Anyone who spends too much timealone becomes hard to live with. Their hearts were cold, their minds rigid. Icouldn’t imagine who would find a way to reach them. Alexis is younger, but hehas too much restless energy and too much fire in his veins. I worried that noone would ever be able to pin him down.”

She cups my face in her work-roughened hands. “Youmust be very special to have planted love in such barren and unpredictablesoil.”

I blush, feeling overwhelmed at her words,unused to being called special by anyone.

“Special,” I say. “But also lucky.”

Her eyes finally light with the genuine warmthI used to see when I was a child, and she’d pinch my cheeks and feed me extrasweets when my mama wasn’t looking.

“I love them,” I say. “For all the good andthe bad, the difficult and the easy. I love them.”

She pats my shoulder and nods. “Me, too,Aemelia. Me, too.”

That night as we relax on the terrace beneaththe stars, surrounded by family, I feel something settle inside me.

I’m home.

I’m loved.

And I’m exactly where I belong.

Epilogue

LUCA

UNDONE BY LOVE

The church is half-filled with guests, more onour side than Aemelia’s, but that’s to be expected. Her father's family isn’twelcome, and her mother’s is small. Most of her friends from Maryland couldn’tmake it, except for a select few we offered to fly out for the weekend.

On our side is a mix of beloved family—Rositaand Raphael with baby Mario asleep in her arms, Mama looking happy and proud,cousins, friends, our crew and their wives and children, and further back, ourallies, the men who control this underworld most of the time.

I glance past them because their presenceisn’t about sentiment, it’s about power, about ensuring that alliances remainintact. The only way to secure a safe future for Aemelia and our family is tokeep the right people on our side. There’s no walking away from this life, sowe have to play the game.

By my side, Antonio and Alexis stand, dressedin matching tuxedos, hair styled, eyes bright, waiting with the same tension Ifeel coiled inside me.

I don’t like it when Aemelia is out of oursight. That’s one of the benefits of sharing a woman—three husbands can protecther far better than one.

We’re an anomaly in this world. Men like usdon’t share. They hoard, they claim, they devour. But with us, it has alwaysbeen different. Sharing Aemelia has brought me a peace I never thoughtpossible. While it took time for our mother to understand, Aemelia’s desire tofill our home with children has softened her heart. She just wants to see ushappy, and it’s impossible for anyone to deny that we are.

“She’s late,” Alexis hisses, raking a handthrough his curls, ruining their styled perfection. He looks more like himselfnow, a little disheveled, a little reckless.

“It’s a bride’s prerogative,” I remind him.

CarmellaLambrettisits in the front with her sister beside her. Christina is even thinner thanwhen we last saw her, but she’s hanging on, determined to witness her niece’swedding. Who knows what will happen after? She has already outlived everydoctor’s prediction.

I adjust my cuffs, my fingers grazing thelinks Mario gave me so many years ago. He should have been here today. He wasalways the one who believed in love, the artist, the poet, the dreamer.

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