Massimo let out a small groan as two sets of little feet padded across the floor. Then a knock. “Mom! Dad! Mom! Mom!”
They seemed to be calling for us in unison.
I giggled at the clear frustration in his eyes.
“You better go to them, or they’re going to break the door down.”
“You really think our little demons can do it?” he asked.
I shot him a look. No matter how many times I asked him not to call our sons “little demons,” he couldn’t seem to help himself. And the nickname had stuck. Now all of Massimo’s siblings were calling them that.
“Children,” he corrected.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I think they can break down the door.”
Massimo seemed to think about it for a bit. Then, with another groan, he got up from the bed. I sat up on the bed, pulledthe covers up my body, and watched as Massimo struggled to pull on a pair of gray sweats over his hard-on.
Poor baby.
He pointed at me. “I wouldn’t laugh. Just remember, I can think of hundreds of ways to get even.”
“I’m not,” I said innocently.
He wasn’t fooled. “You’re a brat. And I’m asking Giulia to babysit for the weekend and taking you away to one of our cabins. Then I’ll have my way with you.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I can’t wait.”
And how true that was.
He shot me another look and got out of the room, careful to keep me away from the view of the boys who were trying to peek into our room. I could hear Massimo talking sternly to our children before I heard the explosion of laughter from them as Massimo carried them away from the door.
I stayed where I was for a moment and took in the contentment of everything.
We were still at war with the Bratva, but things had been quiet. Especially since the formerpakhanof the Novikov Bratva had died from a surprise attack while he had been visiting his favorite strip club. I made a face at the thought.
The man was pushing fifty-five, and though he wasn’t married, something about him going to a strip club and dying at the place just rubbed me the wrong way. Massimo hadn’t really gone into details over it—not that I would ask.
But now Boris was set to take over, and Massimo had said Boris was everything his fatherwishedhe was himself.
Which might mean trouble for us later on, but right now, things were okay.
More than that, I was happy.
I had two precious little boys, one who was turning eight next month and one who just turned six three weeks ago. And theywere as close to each other as Massimo and his brothers were to each other.
I loved them from the moment I saw them, as I imagined a mother should feel when she sees her children.
Giving birth to them had been a blessing and a heartbreak all in one, considering my mom hadn’t been by my side.
Massimo had created a safe passage for them to leave the country after Andre’s death. Emilio had agreed he wouldn’t go after Mom and Lina for what Andre had done, but that didn’t mean they weren’t shunned by their group for it. A way out of the country was a better option, especially for Lina, who was running away from the Bratva.
I still wasn’t convinced Boris was looking for her.
But I hadn’t been there for their wedding, so I didn’t know how their dynamic was. And it didn’t matter. Lina was as good as dead to me.
And if I was kicking Lina out of my life, then I was, to an extent, kicking my mom out of it as well.
She would never know my kids.