Page 103 of Forgotten Deeds

“Maybe I expected too much from Harrison, considering his role model.” Thomas abandoned Harrison and his mom chasing tail. Where does that sound familiar?

“That’s just an excuse for lack of personal responsibility,” Darius admonishes. “My old man was an abusive piece of shit, but I get to choose who I am; not his sorry ass.”

I look over to my husband. Really look at him. He’s big, and scary when he wants to be, and could’ve easily gone down the same path as his father. Sure, the path Darius has chosen isn’t one of sainthood, but he’d never hurt Iris—that much I know for a fact.

“I don’t want your pity, little angel,” he tells me, focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Not pity, but admiration,” I correct him.

Darius snorts a laugh. “Please don’t call me a good man.”

“You told me you’re many things, but good isn’t one of them,” I parrot back his words.

“Are you finally ready to believe me?” he asks quietly.

Fiddling with my mood ring, I’m not sure how to answer that, so I don’t.

“Why do you never talk about your family?” He breaks the silence.

“My parents and I were estranged until recently,” I admit. “After I got pregnant in high school, they didn’t take the news well. A teenage pregnancy?” I say in a shocked tone. “Nothing could be more embarrassing in their world.”

“I hope they realize how wrong they were,” Darius comments.

I shrug. “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Well, they were wrong,” he says firmly. “Iris is an amazing kid, and she has an amazing mother.”

“Darius,” I start, swallowing the lump that’s now in my throat.

“Yes, wifey?”

Before I can decide what I want to say, we pull into the parking lot of Daniella’s.

“Are you sure we don’t need a gift?” I ask when he helps me out of the SUV.

“Strict no-gift policy,” he assures me.

Placing his hand on the small of my back, he leads me to the lobby, and we’re greeted by several intimidating-looking Italian men. One searches my purse, while another holds the leash of a German Shepard. “Name and identification?” A third man with a clipboard asks.

“Darius and Lily Angelos,” Darius answers, and the man checks us off the list after we flash our IDs.

I pass through a metal detector, and the guard returns my purse to me. Waiting for Darius to clear security, I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, and yet I still have to stop myself from gawking when he pulls out a gun, a knife, a pair of brass knuckles, and some other weapon I can’t identify.

He steps through the metal detector, retrieving his his arsenal and putting everything back into hidden position. “Ready?” he asks, and I just nod.

We enter the restaurant decorated to the nines with flowers, balloons, and framed senior pictures of a stunning Valentina. I spot Nicky with the graduate, and they wave me over. Before I can decide if I want him to or not, Darius kisses me quickly and saunters off.

I join the ladies, who greet me with a double cheek kiss. “Congratulations. This is so lovely,” I tell Valentina.

“Thanks,” she says, sounding dejected. “It’s not an ideal setup, but I made it work given the unreasonable restrictions.” Valentina cuts her eyes to Nicky, who holds up her hands in surrender. “Come on, let’s take a picture in the photo booth.” Valentina grabs our hands, pulling us along.

I glance over my shoulder to find a young Italian guy following us. “The lurker is Enzo,” Nicky says, as if that explains everything. “Enzo, this is Lily, Darius’ wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” he tells me. “And congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“At least Sammy is too ‘busy’ to be all up in my business. The one good thing about his promotion,” Valentina comments.

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