“I want to live where you guys are, in a home that doesn’t harbor secrets and lies, somewhere we can all feel safe and allow the baby to grow and run without fearing that someone could sneak onto the property and hurt him, and somewhere none of us have been brutally tortured.”
His lips start pulling into a wide grin. “You’re sure?” he questions. “Because I’ve been thinking about rebuilding that thing ever since it burned down, but if you really want it, I’ll start putting plans into place.”
“I really want it,” I tell him, moving into him and pushing up onto my tippy toes to brush my lips over his. “I only have one requirement … No, two. Two requirements.” Roman watches, his brow arching with impatience. “I want a sex room,” I tell him. “Nothing creepy or anything like that … actually, maybe that’s a shitty idea. I mean, what am I supposed to tell people when I give them the grand tour ‘and this is where I get thoroughly fucked.’ No, that can’t happen.”
Marcus scoffs, a smirk resting on his lips. “Dare I ask your second requirement?”
A hunger spreads through me, heating me from the inside out as I glance across the room to Levi, watching the way he reads the hunger in my eyes for exactly what it is. “I want drums in every fucking room.”
Marcus and Roman just stare, not understanding the fascination, but Levi … he gets it. He groans low and I bite down on my bottom lip, just thinking of all the fun we could have with all those drum sets.
Roman shakes his head. “No way in hell am I having drums in every room, we’d never have a moment of silence. What if we just had them in every main living area, but no dining rooms or bathrooms, and definitely not in my bedroom.”
I cross my arms over my chest and take a step back, narrowing my eyes. “I see your drums only in living spaces, and I raise you a soft serve machine in the kitchen and a pizza oven … OH, and a popcorn maker for movie night. And can we have bean bags in the theater room? Like those ginormous ones where you practically disappear when you jump into them. OH!” I add, the excitement quickly taking control. “And a slide into the pool? Wouldn’t that be awesome? I’ve always dreamed about having a pool.”
“Okay,” Levi laughs, moving across the room and pulling me into his arms, his chest pressed against my back. He leans down and presses his lips to my temple. “Would you prefer if you just made the designs with Roman?”
My eyes bug out of my head and I gape at him before turning my stare on Roman, positive that he’s going to shut down the idea before it even gets started. My heart races with excitement, quickly building higher with every passing moment. “Is that … Can I? Would you mind?”
“Would I mind?” Roman laughs. “I’d like nothing more than to build a home with you.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, mixing with the pure joy that already resides. “I don’t think you have any idea what you just got yourself into.”
His phone rings again and he sighs, digging into his pocket again. “Hold that thought,” he tells me before his back stiffens and he turns toward his brothers, watching them intently. “Mick, talk to me.”
Silence fills the room except for the soft coos of the baby. It feels like a lifetime passes before Roman ends the call and tells us exactly what we’ve been waiting for. “We’ve got him.”
36
A light shower rains down over the deserted street, the sole street light casting a glow across the cracked pavement. We’re well out of the city now, in bum-fuck nowhere with nothing but ourselves to watch out for.
We sit in the black Escalade, covered in shadows with the headlights turned off, watching the rundown motel across the street.
This is it.
Giovanni DeAngelis paces in front of the window, moving back and forth, over and over again with the dim room lighting casting his shadow against the old curtains.
The second we got the call from Mick, we made our move. We weren’t letting the asshole get away again. We got our intel, got his location, and quickly learned that he was alone. He has nothing; no guards, no children held hostage to use against us. Just him and justice waiting to be served.
Fuck, I can’t wait. I feel as though I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second he stormed into the castle and demanded I strip for him. He’s nothing but an egotistical pig who thinks way too highly of himself, but without his army of guards at his back, without his precious DeAngelis mafia ready to back him up, and without the fear of his threats hanging over our heads, he’s nothing but tonight’s entertainment.
This is going to be good.
The things he did to me, the things he forced me into, the pain and suffering he’s caused, it’s all going to come to an end. No other woman will suffer at his hands, no other child will bear the scars of his abuse. There’s no amount of pain we can inflict on him that would ever make up for the torment he’s rained down over the people closest to him, but we’re sure as hell going to try.
I bet the asshole is pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how he’s going to see this through, how he’s going to rise again, how he’s going to put himself back at the top of the food chain. I bet he’s panicking, bet he’s frothing at the mouth with fear. After all, only a pussy would have run from that mansion after strapping a bomb to his child’s nursemaid. He knew we were coming, knew we were going to defeat him, and he was a bitch who slipped away, too scared to face the wrath of what he’d done.
Not anymore. It ends here.
If he knew we were just outside, ready and waiting to make our move, I’m sure he would run. He would slip his bitch ass through the small bathroom window and make a break for it, but he thinks he’s safe, thinks he’s gotten away with something. Proving him wrong is going to be the highlight of my night.
I can’t wait to see the fear in his eyes. This is going to be one of those sweet bedtime stories that I’m going to share with the baby, and he’s going to grow, learning of the wonders of this night, and knowing every damn moment of it was nothing short of perfection.
I mean, does that make me a bad sort-of-mom? Maybe telling him bedtimes stories about murdering his rapist sperm-donor isn’t exactly a decision other Moms would make. Though, I can’t say other Moms are really in our unique situation with two psychopathic uncles who thrive on bloodlust and a Father who can snap a neck in two seconds flat.
Yeah, there’s no doubt about it. This child is going to be raised in Roman’s image and hone that same incredible skill set to ensure he thrives when it comes his time to rule over the DeAngelis mafia. And I don’t doubt that it will happen. I’m sure of it. He will rise just as the boys have. However, he will do it with warmth in his heart and pride for his family, and when that day comes, the boys will happily hand him the reins knowing he will take this family to new heights. Though, he sure as fuck has big shoes to fill.
By the time this baby is grown and taking over, the boys will have taken the DeAngelis family to heights they never thought possible. They’re going to exceed the expectations of the Moretti family and dominate. They will be the most powerful family in the world and nothing can change my mind.