strikes up random conversations with other ticket holders, especially when the tour stops outside the gates of the Romanov estate. Twenty years after the original murders, it’s still a hotspot and source of heated controversy.
People are free to think what they want. Only two people know the details of what happened that night, and as far as the world is concerned, both of them took it to the grave.
By the time we make it to the villa, Violet is wide awake. Once inside, she grabs her newest treasure, a pink teddy bear, and holds it high above her head while skipping around.
Shit.
I meant to intercept that before Angel got back, but with all the excitement, it slipped my mind. An oversight which has come back to bite me in the ass.
Angel folds her arms across her chest. “Where did she get that?”
I scratch the back of my head, trying to come up with an answer that doesn’t sound pulled out of my ass, when my sweet, angelic-faced daughter sells me the fuck out.
“It’s from Nonny Moose!”
Traitor.
Angel shifts a narrowed gaze toward me and cocks an eyebrow. “Nonny Moose, again huh?”
Of all the times for my kid to not throw out some weird English-Italian hybrid shit, she chooses now.
Angel smiles at Violet, her voice gentle. “Go set up a tea party, Vi. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Violet’s pale blue eyes brighten. “Okay, Mama.”
As soon as Violet is out of earshot, Angel purses her lips. “Another ‘anonymous’ delivery?” Shaking her head, she chuckles and turns to face the glass door where she stares out at the Mediterranean. “Luciano is spoiling her.”
She’s not wrong. Violet looks forward to her monthly surprises from the man she’s called “Nonny Moose” ever since hearing Angel and I refer to the sender as anonymous.
I have no idea how he found us, or how he knows Violet even exists. But I’m not surprised. He has always been our protector. Not even death could break a habit like that.
Apparently, death can’t break the chains of a lost love, either. According to news reports, a shell corporation purchased the Romanov estate shortly after Rubio had Alexandra declared dead.
However, no one has ever moved in or claimed ownership. The corporation simply maintains the property and provides for the staff.
But Angel and I know it was never the lure of owning a piece of Hollywood history that prompted the purchase. It was the memorial bench tucked away near the back of the estate.
After thirty-seven years, Luciano finally found his deli girl. He’d never let anyone keep him from her again.
Walking up behind Angel, I slip my arms around her waist and tug her against me. “Of course, he’s spoiling her. She’s his granddaughter.”
“You miss him.”
My arms tighten around my wife. “I never had a dad growing up. But I always thought if I did, I’d want him to be like Luciano. Day after day, I’d watch him walk into that deli in his fancy suit. Now I know he was looking for Mom.”
“That’s where his hopes and wishes died,” she says, leaning back against me.
“All this time, she didn’t tell me.”
Angel turns and wraps her arms around my neck, trailing her nails lightly across my skin. “She knew what kind of life Luciano led. She wanted to keep you from following into it.”
Pulling her close, I hover my lips against hers, my hands seeking flesh that will forever belong to me. “Yet I still did.”
She smiles that secret smile again. “I told you. Fate always finds a way.”
The first time I kissed an angel, she died.
The second time, we both did.
As far as the world is concerned, that’s where Alexandra Romanov and Dominic McCallum’s story ends. Our tragic, bloody, heartbreaking story that will live in infamy as Hollywood folklore for generations to come.
But for Jade DeLuca and Brendan McCall, the story has just begun.
Not long after we said our vows, Angel told me that Alexandra had confessed a secret. She told her that the night I saved her, she made a promise to herself. She swore she’d find me again in another life. When she did, my pain would be hers. My heart would beat for her. She’d destroy me and set me free.
She was a woman of her word. Even if she now only exists somewhere in a quiet, serene corner of Angel’s mind.
We saved each other that Christmas Eve twenty years ago. And then we did it again fifteen years later.
The world demanded justice for a lost little girl