Page 7 of Redemption

Ezio scoffs at me. “Believe what you want, Mira, but you and I both know he would much rather have you at home.” I glare at my brother as he runs his fingers over the butcher block on the counter. “You do have a useful set of skills that we could use.”

“Get out of my house, Ezio,” I stammer. “Now.”

He shrugs his shoulders then walks toward me so close he presses his chest against mine, causing me to lean back against the island. His gaze powerful as he stares down at me. He may only be older than me by a year but he knows how to evoke fear in me. “I came here to warn you, Mirabella. It’s not safe right now. You need to come home.”

I shake my head. “You are making it not safe by showing your face here, Ezio. I’ve had no threats, nothing in three years. Not since the last time you showed up.”

“Our enemies are watching.”

I push against his chest, forcing him to back up. “No. Your enemies are watching you. They are not my enemies.” I push off the counter and walk toward the door to the garden, staring out at the small fountain, the wind chimes, the small patch of grass Aria uses to practice. “Every time you come here, you bring danger.”

I hear him sigh behind me. “It’s part of our life,sorrellina.”

I close my eyes knowing he speaks the truth. That I can never escape the Renzetti name. Never live a life like I dreamed of ten years ago. “I’ll be careful.”

“You’ll be safer at the estate.”

I turn around and lean against the glass door. “I am not pulling Aria away from her friends, her football, her life.” I pause then look up at Ezio. “Remember what it was like when we were kids? We had nothing. Kids didn’t want to be friends with us because their parents knew who our parents were, who our family was. We only had our cousins. I don’t want that life for Aria. I want her to be a kid. I want her to be normal.”

Ezio takes a step toward me and wraps his arms around me. “That was your life, not mine. I had friends. I think you remember them.” His grip tightens, squeezing me to the point of pain as his grip crushes my lungs. As horrible memories flood my system of those friends he is talking about. “I know what you want, Mirabella. But that is something she can never have.”

I gasp for breath as my brother squeezes tighter, a threat. I move my leg enough that I slam my knee into his balls, causing him to let me go. I duck under his arm and slide across the kitchen floor, grabbing a knife from the counter. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. And don’t tell me what I can and cannot provide for my little girl. Get out of my house, Ezio. Leave Sicily. You aren’t wanted here.”

He holds his hands up in front of me. “Fine. I’ll leave. But watch your back. I don’t want to lose my sister.”

I scoff at that as he leaves my house. I slump against the island. Thoughts swirling in my head. I have no idea who he is talking about and I have no idea why anyone would come here. I haven’t played a role in the family business in thirteen years. There is no reason anyone would come after me now.

* * *

Despite not wanting to listen to my brother, I did. For a week. I spent it being cautious of everything. I dropped off and picked up Aria from school every day. I didn’t let her walk the three blocks home with her friends. I cut my hours back at the café and I saw the worry in Magda’s eyes at the change of my behavior.

But despite all of my precautions, nothing happened. Not one damn thing. It’s been two weeks and I am utterly sick of keeping an eye over my shoulder. It’s not that I don’t believe what my brother said could be true because I am not naive to think something couldn’t happen when you are the daughter of a mafia family. But usually there are some signs and there was absolutely nothing.

“You look exhausted,” Magda tells me as we sit along the sidelines of Aria’s football game. “And you haven’t been working as much.”

I glance over to her and shrug. “Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

She gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t believe me. I have no idea how much she knows about my family. What my grandmother may have told her when she met my grandfather or what my mother may have let slip. Or maybe she just knows that my last name isn’t just any last name but actually related to the Renzetti crime family.

I don’t give her anything else and focus on Aria’s game. I watch as she shouts back and forth to her teammates as she kicks the ball to them. She loves football. She asked me when she was four if she could start playing when I found her sitting inches from the television watching the Italian team lose in the World Cup. She went on and on about how she analyzed how they were playing and knew what they screwed up. I couldn’t help but laugh when she droned on for ten minutes. But then she rewound the live play and my jaw dropped to the floor. She was four but she analyzed the game like she was twenty years older. Needless to say, I signed her up for a children’s league the next day. Next year she will be eligible to try out for a junior travel league and I hope I have the money to pay for it. I don’t want to break into the family fund that was left for me but the urge is there if it’s for my daughter.

She scores a goal and I jump out of my chair screaming and dancing for her. The smile that whips across her face as she looks at me makes my heart warm. She is the best thing that ever happened to me. My pride and joy. I love her to the moon and back. And I will do anything to protect her. And I truly mean anything.

They end up winning six to three, Aria scoring three of those goals. I think she very well may be a star one day.

She comes sprinting over to me with one of her teammates, giggling and laughing. “Mama!”

“What a game, baby girl! Three goals! I hope you remember me when you become a famous football player,” I joke as I wrap my arms around her.

She rolls her eyes at me as I pull away and a little piece of my heart breaks. This girl is getting so big and soon enough she will be a teenager. I have no doubt she will have an attitude like I did and she will fight me daily. I just hope she remembers when that time comes that I am still her best friend.

“Can I sleep over at Tina’s tonight? Her mom is making homemade pizza and ice cream sundaes and we are celebrating our win. Like half the team is going and I can’t be the only one not there. Besides, I scored the most goals and I should be a part of the party. And Tina is like my best friend, so it’s only natural that I go. Everyone else would think it’s weird if I’m not there.”

I bite down a smile as she blabbers on. She always goes off on a tangent when she wants something. And normally I would let her go to a sleepover but my brother’s words still linger in the back of my head making me more cautious than normal. But it’s been two weeks and nothing. Not one single thing has made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

“Please, Mooooommmmm,” she begs as she sticks out her bottom lip.

“Yeah, please.” Tina drops to her knees dramatically in front of me, her hands clasped together. “We haven’t had a sleepover in so long and what if something happens between now and the next time we have one and Aria can’t come? You have to let her come.”

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