Page 42 of Relentless Refuge

I lie here thinking of our future and what the two of us leading our Family will be like. Marco will never assume control of my businesses or Family, and I wouldn’t dream of thinking I could lead his organization. I still have so much to learn as it is, and the idea of teaching my son or daughter everything I know sounds daunting. But Marco is right. We have decades to figure that out. But today, I can rest assured that everything has a way of working out in ways I least expect them to.

31

MARCO

Nearly two months have passed without incident, at least those of the Russian variety. Our message was sent loud and clear and our enemy has yet to retaliate. I sit on my back patio in the sunshine with Victor, Darnel, and Nicolo. Isabella paces the yard, discussing her pregnancy with her mother. She’s blossoming into a beautifully curvy figure, and I enjoy every inch of her full figure as she grows. My child is in her womb, my heir, and it makes me all the more attracted to her every day.

Nicolo’s eyes are on his niece, never leaving her. I can’t tell sometimes whether he is jealous of her position or if he’s in awe of her strength. I am on the latter end of that, constantly marveling over how a woman her age is able to be so intelligent and capable. If I were her father, I would be honored and proud to leave everything I have to her. But I am her husband, and now I am honored and proud to have her at the helm and fully believe she is capable of raising my son or daughter to ascend our thrones and lead the united D’Angelo-Romano organization for years to come.

“We are rolling in money, Marco. This has been our best month yet. We will have more than enough to double the business and expand. And if Kozlov isn’t careful, we’ll run right over his business ventures and swallow his territory too.” Victor is boastful, as usual. Being shot at, nearly blown up, and chased around town hasn’t slowed him down a bit. Still foolhardy and impulsive. I have to rein him in on a daily basis.

“Let’s not forget how the serpent bites, Victor,” Uncle Darnel says, raising his glass of orange juice and champagne. He sips his drink and winks at my younger brother, who rolls his eyes and takes it in stride. Someday, this will bite him, and he will learn. I pray it isn’t the way Warren and Chase had to learn.

“One day at a time, Brother.” I pluck a piece of bacon off the serving plate situated at the center of the table and enjoy the soft breeze that picks up. We have a busy week ahead of us with meeting new clients and expanding our reach into Newark. Isabella’s father left a list of potential clients for us to entertain, and we’ll be taking the mayor of Newark out for dinner this evening to wine and dine him. With him on the payroll, there isn’t much we can’t do.

“Our business isn’t about selling weapons and drugs, Mr. Romano,” Nicolo reminds me. “My late brother-in-law was passionate about arming citizens so they can defend themselves in the event that our corrupt government attempts to seize control over them. That mission still remains the foundation of this organization. We partner with many other organizations to help facilitate that goal.”

A shadow passes over the table, and I lift my eyes to see a bird swoop across the sky and land on the awning overhead. A cardinal, to remind us that Isabella’s father is in fact watching over us, and I believe we are doing right by him and his memory.

“We all have the same goal in mind, then, to ensure the people remain the powerhouse and those who have assumed authority over us are held accountable to their own laws.” The bacon practically melts in my mouth as I chew it and listen to Darnel and Nicolo compare notes about how our organizations are run.

The D’Angelos have a different mission than mine, which has always been to make money and have power. Isabella’s father was a wise man to form his companies around a principle of equality and strength in community. There is a lot to learn there, and I’m the sponge just waiting to soak up the knowledge.

Isabella pulls her seat out and sits down, placing her phone on the table next to her plate. She busies herself piling food onto the empty plate as the men banter about the proper way to get things done, Victor, of course, with horribly ill-conceived ideas, and Isabella smiles at me.

“How is your mother?”

“Oh, you know. She’s lonely, still learning how to do things without Father around. But she’s good. She’s excited to meet the baby. She thinks it will have Father’s spirit.” My wife is stunning, her face practically glowing with light and love. Pregnancy looks good on her, even when she eats twice as much as any normal human should eat. Her dark hair is swept back into a braid, but ringlets frame her face, making her lips look perfectly kissable.

“I’m glad to hear she’s moving on now. I trust the gift we sent to her is being put to good use…" Weeks ago, just after Isabella was taken, we installed a complete home security system. Her late husband was old-fashioned in his ideals and wanted to keep matters very personal, believing that a home security system could be hacked. He used guards and mirrors rather than closed-circuit television. We convinced Giana to let us install it anddoubled up by posting guards in the same places he would have had he still been alive.

“She feels safer now, thank you.” Isabella poured syrup over her pancakes and then paused and looked up at me. “Marco, when we first made this arrangement, I never thought I would be seated across the table from you with your baby inside me, feeling in love and at peace. I thought this was business and that you’d go on with your life as you were before, dating other women… you know.”

I chuckle at her confession but reach for her hand as she sets the syrup bottle down. “Cara mia, you are my world, and don’t you forget that.” I make sure to look her straight in the eye as I continue. “The first moment I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Young, yes, but stunning—inside and out. Your beauty was only rivaled by your intelligence and sass, and I couldn’t get you out of my head. When only days later you proposed the idea of an arranged marriage, I knew it was fate. And if fate tied the red string of destiny to my heart and yours, then there was no use fighting it.”

She smiles at me and turns her hand over, lacing her fingers through mine. “I love you, Mr. Romano.”

“I love you too, Bella.”

“Oh, get a room.” Victor playfully pushes my shoulder, and I smile at her without breaking eye contact.

“Oh, I’m fairly certain they’ve gotten a room… or two,” Nicolo chimes in. “Her growing figure is more than proof of that.”

Isabella’s cheeks warm to a deep pink, and she pulls her hand away to pick up her fork. The sparkle in her eye as she takesa bite tells me she has something to say, but she lets the conversation play out.

“I can’t believe she has sex with this ogre. He’s a beast of a man and I’ve seen how he picks his teeth when he’s done eating.” Again, Victor’s playful insults make the men chuckle, and finally, Isabella chimes in.

“You should see how he trims his toenails.” With a wink in my direction, she joins the banter at my expense, which is okay with me. Our Families are one in heart and soul now, and I can see it in the way we exchange joy through insults and sarcasm. My heart is full, and so is my home.

Isabella has taught me there is more than greed and power and money. The human heart can feel the depths of anger and sadness, but it can soar to heights of elation beyond all measure, and everything in between on the spectrum. However, there is no ability to feel those heights if you don’t allow yourself to walk in the depths, and that is the true mystery of life.

That the easy life, the one where there are no struggles or sadness, is not a life people appreciate, because they don’t know what it means to suffer. But those who walk through suffering until they reach the summit of the mountain upon which they travel, those people can survey their life with deep gratitude and full enjoyment of everything around them. For in suffering, we see the capacity to receive joy. And in joy, we find the strength to endure suffering.

This Family is a testament to both joy and suffering. To ease and to struggle. To hope and to mourning, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I raise my cup, and the table falls silent. They all look to me as their leader, or partner, and wait for what I may say to them, but my heart is focused on her. “To my wife, the beautiful and amazing Isabella D’Angelo-Romano. May your days be long and your light never dim. You are my anchor in this storm of life, my sail in the winds that carry me where I must go, and my hope for a better tomorrow.”

Everyone cheers and whistles as we honor Isabella with a toast, and she can only sit with tears in her eyes, full of gratitude for the men who now surround her with strength and support. She has done her father proud, and she has proven to all of us that the strength of a woman’s heart surpasses every expectation.

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