the news since I have been away. It's all a little overwhelming. My point is, no one can actually guarantee their kids safety. At least with this family, the kids have armed guards around all the time looking out for them. Do you want just a couple?"
"I used to tell my mom that I wanted a football team of kids. Now, I am thinking maybe a few less than that."
"I always wanted a bunch as well. I probably would have kept going. If it was another man. But, as you can imagine, Art was not a good father. He was harsh and overbearing and I cringed at the idea of bringing more children into this environment. I would love it if you made me a grandma of a football team."
"Well, I mean, it is a little soon to be talking about that, but I like the idea of it. So, what do you think about this one?" I asked, holding up a gray swatch.
"With those new wood floors?" Celeste asked, brows pinching, giving me a "you know better" look.
We spent the afternoon poring over the magazines, hemming and hawing swatches and paint colors and wallpaper.
It was the closest thing to having a mother I had known in a really long time.
"Hey, what's the matter?" Lorenzo said, coming into the kitchen after having said goodbye to Celeste at the door.
It wasn't until then that I realized I was blinking back some rogue tears.
"I just really love your mom," I admitted, giving him a watery smile. "It's nice to sort of... be a part of a family again."
"There's no 'sort of' about it," he told me, pulling me up onto my feet, dragging me against his chest. "You are a part of this family. And I'm glad you love my mom."
"She insisted I decorate the house. But, of course, I am going to run it all by you. It's your house."
"Nope. I don't need to see it. You cover the decorating shit. I cover the making the money and keeping us safe shit."
"What if I picked a pastel pink for the master bedroom?"
"Well, we can fuck with the lights off," he decided, giving me a smile before pulling me up for a quick kiss.
"What did the doctor say?" I asked, having been more worried about his head than he had been. Because, apparently, big, powerful mafia dons didn't worry about pesky things like bullet holes and brain surgery and medically-induced comas.
"He said the same shit the doctor at the hospital did. I might still get some headaches. He said there was always a chance of issues with attention span or seizures. Don't see any of that shit happening, though. I feel fine. Ready to get back to working out. But he wants me to give it another couple weeks. You know what, though?"
"What?"
"He said no running. He didn't say shit about dragging my woman upstairs and fucking her until she can't see straight."
"Well, then he must think it is perfectly safe to do so," I told him, smiling, mostly because we had already been spending more time with our clothes off than on some days, and he was no worse for the wear.
"That's what I'm thinking," Lorenzo agreed, swooping low, tossing me over his shoulder, and taking me upstairs.
Lorenzo - 1 Month
You'd think it would get old.
Having a woman in your space all the time.
But it seemed like with each passing day, I was enjoying seeing her there more and more.
She usually snuck out of bed right before sunrise—a lifetime of habit from working at the bakery—and went downstairs, turned on the coffee, got something sweet started in the oven. By the time I noticed her familiar weight wasn't on my chest anymore, the house was already filling with scents of warm vanilla, oatmeal, chocolate, apples and cinnamon, whatever combination she was playing around with that day.
It was chocolate that day, I realized as I stepped down onto the main floor.
The work was already underway, a small group of men painting the walls in the dining room with Brio perched on the sideboard, legs kicking, cleaning under his nails with an unnecessarily large knife, being as intimidating as he could be without outwardly threatening any average civilians.
He gave me a head nod as I passed. "That woman, she's got it all, man. You gotta lock that shit down," he told me, shaking his head like it was absurd I hadn't put a ring on Giana's finger a month after officially starting to