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She lowered her head and I could feel her body stiffen. “That’s nothing I ever wanted, Alejandro. I just wanted my brother to fight for what’s most important to him because I know that man. He’s kind and strong, loving to a fault, and would do anything to protect his family. That’s the man I want to raise that beautiful little girl. The short answer? I just don’t know.”

As she walked away, I mentally compared the two men, the one she’d described and the one I’d become. It hit me all over again.

There was almost no difference in the two.

* * *

Laughter.

I hadn’t really thought about how long it had been since I’d heard laughter or had anything to chuckle about until now. Being able to cook dinner for two women and two kids inside a house filled with warmth had been a gift.

It would likely not be repeated for some time to come.

If ever.

By tomorrow, there wouldn’t be a single crime syndicate or law enforcement agency who hadn’t learned about Santorelli’s death. Blood and chum would be in the water before the six a.m. news.

I’d been in the business long enough to know what to expect. I’d learned to sleep with a loaded weapon on my nightstand, another in the dresser drawer, and others stashed throughout my condo.

I’d also prepared a go bag in case it was necessary to bail the location and I’d kept my body physically fit by use of a gym and boxing bag inside the lavish Manhattan location.

Despite all that I’d managed to eat at the fanciest restaurants and attend movie premieres and charity events. But in all the time I’d spent pretending to be someone else, I hadn’t laughed. I couldn’t remember, other than a practiced chuckle, a single time I’d felt jovial or free of burdens and anxiety.

Until tonight.

There was every possibility by remaining in the house in Great Neck a hit would be easier for any assassin, but a part of me didn’t give a shit.

I’d gifted myself this night, which was why every laugh, every child’s bit of joyful glee, and being able to watch my sister finally starting to relax had been that much more precious.

That didn’t mean I’d allowed my guard to fall. Doing so would mean certain death.

I’d decided to wait until after the news of Santorelli’s death hit to release the alliance announcement. The one-two punch would stir the waters. That much I’d seen before. I only prayed I could control the vermin breaching the surface.

“The children wanted to sleep in the same room. A real sleepover,” Carmella said as she returned to the kitchen.

“And Maria?”

“She was conned into reading to them. I think she’s on book number three.”

I wiped my hands, folding the dishtowel and placing it on the handle of the microwave. When I turned to face her, she had a sly grin on her face.

“My sister is a pushover.”

“Just like her brother.”

“If you were any of my men, I’d punish you.”

“Oh, you would, would you?” She inched closer. For tonight, there’d been no discussion of business, especially in front of the children who’d insisted on helping make the pizzas. The kitchen had become a royal mess, but at least they’d enjoyed themselves.

“Oh, I would, lady. In fact, I should do that anyway. I do need to keep you in line.”

She laughed and grabbed the towel, twisting it the way I’d done when working restaurants as a young man. When she swatted me, I was reminded how much the act stung.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why is that?” she purred. “You don’t know how to play.”

“Who said this is playing?” I searched the expansive kitchen for an implement of choice, snagging a huge wooden spatula from a container.

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