As long as she was safe. As long as she was mine for good.
* * *
Enzo and Amadeo were in my Parisian home three hours later. It was one benefit of having my own jet.
I came out of my office to go in search of them and get the conversation over with.
“Boys are in the back garden,” Manuel said, appearing out of nowhere. His steps synched up with mine. “Each one is sporting a black eye.”
I slid my hands into my pockets. “What happened this time?”
“They refuse to say.”
“At least they stick together,” I pointed out.
My brother and I always had each other’s backs. Just like Manuel and I had. In our world, it was important to have a family that wouldn’t stab you in the back. Enzo and Amadeo might fight and give each other a few black eyes, but regardless of what caused the fight, they were there for one another.
“Remember when you, your brother, and—” He paused for a flicker of a moment, then continued, “And I got into fights?”
I nodded. “I remember you beating us up for the first ten years of our lives because you were older and bigger.”
He chuckled. “Just admit it. I’m better and stronger.”
I shot him a wry look. “Not anymore, old man.”
“Bring it on,nipote,” he challenged, grinning like an old fool. “And once you’re married, definitely bring it on. You’ll be too busy to keep up your workout routine.”
This time I couldn’t contain the grin. “I’ll work out more to keep my young wife happy.”
He slapped me on the shoulder. “The girl has you by the balls, and she hasn’t even married you yet.”
The garden came into view where my sons stood under a single tree, their heads bent over a device as they muttered amongst themselves. It seemed they were back on speaking terms.
“I’ll wait for the day when a woman has your balls,vecchio,” I said, then left him before he could utter another smart-ass comment. I went through the large French doors and two sets of blackened eyes lifted. Thank fuck they didn’t have any physical nor mental traits of their mother.
They both greeted me at the same time. “Papà.”
I smiled and made my way over, pulling them both into a hug. My father was always too busy for physical affection, but my brother and I had our mother. However brief. Enzo and Amadeo didn’t have their mother’s affection. So it was on me to ensure they got mine.
I stared down at both of them, each only coming up to my shoulders. Another year or two and they’d be as tall as me. It seemed like only yesterday when they were born. The blink of an eye had seen the years fly by. Enzo and Amadeo were no longer boys; they were young men. Another few years, and they’d be active members of the Marchetti empire. And just like I had a choice, so will they. One would run the underworld, the other would run the legal side. Unless he wanted to be part of the Omertà, and I suspected Amadeo would be all in.
“How are my boys?” I asked, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. I held them on the day they were born. I had been with them through every stage of their childhood. They were fuckingmine. Not Donatella’s.
They both shrugged. “Good.”
“Are we going to get in trouble missing school?” Amadeo asked. I had to stifle a scoff. My sons only went to school for the socializing aspect. They couldn’t care less if they got into trouble. In fact, more often than not, theywerethe trouble.
“I sent a note to your teachers. Just do your homework and turn it in on time. When we’re back home, you’ll be back in school and it will be like you haven’t missed a day.” The two shared a look. “Which one of you is going to tell me what’s with the black eyes?”
Another shared look, wordless messages that only they could understand.
“It’s nothing,” they both answered at the same time. I studied them. Their dark hair and dark eyes mirrored my own. Enzo was the strategic one, while Amadeo was more impulsive. They had the Marchetti traits for sure.
“If you need my help, you’ll come to me. Sì?”
They nodded. “What’s happening?” Enzo asked. “Is it Donatella?”
It was fucking sad that my sons knew she was usually the problem.