Page 83 of Stolen Sin

I bite back tears and give him a big hug. He deserves so much more, and I quietly vow to give him everything he could possibly want in his retirement. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too.”

* * *

It’s quiet back home. I creep around the house, feeling lonely. Simon spends more and more time in the Don’s office these days and I don’t have the heart to hang around there much. That entire place is designed and organized around Freddie and Alessandro’s life together, and it feels strange and wrong, changing anything. Freddie keeps saying I should start making it more my own, but I just can’t.

Instead, I hang around Simon’s place. Or I guess it’s my place too. It avoided the worst of the attack and there hasn’t been too much to clean up and repair, so I’ve been doing most of it myself. I finish painting over a bullet hole I patched over and start cleaning up the brushes, thinking about what life would be like if I had never met Simon.

What Dad said before I left keeps running through my head. He’s right: I gave life a chance. That wasn’t how I saw it at the time—when Simon caught me trying to steal from his restaurant, I figured I didn’t have much of a choice but to go along with his deal—but now looking back, I could’ve run away screaming. Any rational person would have.

Instead, I was drawn to him. I took a risk thinking that there wasn’t much I could lose, and it worked out like crazy, but I had to choose to give it a try instead of just drifting along like I had been.

The front door opens just as I’m finished and starting on dinner. Simon sweeps into the room and pulls me into his arms, kissing my neck. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he whispers.

I turn around and bury my mouth on his. “Good, but before you start distracting me, I’m making you something to eat.”

He groans. “Baby, you shouldn’t have. It’s like ten at night.” He kisses me again, this time gentle. “I’ve been working late too much.”

“It’s okay. I understand. You have a lot going on.”

“Still, you and I are so fucking new, and all my time’s getting wasted in that damn office.” He grazes my neck with his lips. “I should be spending it here instead.”

“Simon,” I warn, putting my hands on his muscular chest. “Dinner.”

“Let it fucking burn.” He kisses me, and I have just enough strength of will to turn off the burner.

Upstairs, we fall into bed together, and spend a sweaty hour making up for lost time. He’s right, this is so new, and every time I touch him, it’s like we’re starting from the beginning. I lose myself in the way he pets me, the way he teases me, the way he fucks me and makes me come, and the way he holds me when we’re both spent.

He runs his fingers through my hair as I lean my face on his chest, feeling sleepy and satisfied. “I’ll clean up downstairs,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Leave it. I’ll deal with it tomorrow morning. I just want you here for right now.”

He grunts and hugs me tighter. “I know things have been hard, but they’ll settle down. I promise, topolina, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you everything.”

I smile a little because it’s such an over-the-top promise, but I believe him. I absolutely believe him, and I trust him, and that’s the biggest step I’ve taken in a very long time. I should be out over thin air, taking a leap of faith, but instead he’s holding me in his arms and I feel steadier than I ever have before.

“You know what’s strange? I’m afraid of what’s coming, but I feel like I can handle it.”

“You don’t need to be afraid.” He squeezes me tighter.

“No, it’s a good thing. When I was working two jobs to keep my dad afloat, I was terrified all the time and I just kept feeling like I was going to fall behind. But with you it’s like, I might be scared, but I know it’ll be okay, because we’re together. I know that’s sappy.”

He inhales my hair and lets out a long sigh. “I feel the same way, baby,” he says and rolls onto his side, turning me into the little spoon. “You’re all the reason I need to keep fighting.”

Chapter 51

Emily

The oasis crawls with activity. Soldiers and guards patrol the streets interspersed by construction crews clearing out the debris and repairing all the homes. During the day, there’s a constant clatter of hammering, shouting, laughter, and music coming from a dozen different radios.

“Chaos,” Freddie says, frowning out at her precious oasis. Her feet are up on the railing and she’s drinking an iced tea. “Alessandro hates it.”

“Dad’s just a crotchety old man these days,” Elena says, but her tone’s light and teasing. Their father came home from the hospital two days ago and his entire personality is completely different. Gone is the aggressive monster that wanted me dead, replaced by a quiet, almost gentle man who apologized and held my hand while he did it. Elena says that’s how he was before the gunshot, and I believe her. He spends most of his days at home in his room, still recovering.

“But he’s better,” Freddie says, sounding hopeful. She’s smiling, even though the scars of the attack are visible all over the place. Torn and destroyed landscaping, broken sidewalks, missing windows, one home entirely demolished and in the process of being rebuilt. But the deeper scars are hidden inside of everyone, especially in the Bianco family. These poor people are scars layered on top of more scars mixed with deep generational trauma. It’s a miracle they’ve survived so long. Unlimited money probably helps.

“It just feels like everything’s been violated,” Freddie says, her voice very soft and barely audible over the sudden slam of a jackhammer at the far end of the block.

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