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I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE that I’ve spent another night alone when dawn breaks on Saturday morning. Cam left late last evening after we had dinner together, and I haven’t heard from Luca.

Throwing off the covers, I shift to the foot of the bed toward the wooden cribs to see the twins still sleeping. Smiling, I observe the differences in them. Noah’s lying with his arms spread wide and the blanket all tangled. But Milana’s sleeping with the covers tucked neatly around her and her arms close to her body, a bit curled into herself to make her look even smaller than her three months of age. Their bellies rise so fast as they inhale short breaths, which sometimes alarms me, but from what I’ve read, that’s how babies suck in air.

I run my finger down Milana’s button nose and am filled with an eternal affection that manages to temporarily chase away my misery about Luca’s absence. Still in my white nightgown, I climb out of bed and tread to the kitchen to make some tea before I shower. Rounding the island, I click on the electric kettle, swivel around, and freeze when I see a familiar tall figure spread out on the couch.

When did Luca come home? And why did he sleep in here?

Luca’s suit jacket is tossed on the coffee table, his forearm covering his eyes, and he’s still wearing his shoes. Tiptoeing closer, I take in his disheveled appearance with his loosened tie and shadow of stubble, his thick black hair an untamed, flawless mess. Then I bend low but straighten just as fast because he reeks of alcohol.

“Luca!” I stand there, arms akimbo. “Luca!”

He jerks awake, his red-rimmed eyes snapping open as he fires up into a sitting position.

“Where have you been?” I hiss as he blinks and blinks.

“What?” He clears his throat. “What time is it?”

“It’s morning.” I take in a deep breath as my annoyance grows and he yawns. “Did you take my phone yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We were fighting and I forgot.” After rubbing his eyes, he looks up and meets my stare. “Are the kids asleep?”

“Yes,” I reply and switch topics back. “Where were you? And why did you send Cam home with the twins?”

Luca combs his hair back, steeling his jaw. “I checked your phone, and I talked to Tez.” He rises to his full height but sways a little – is he still drunk? “I didn’t find any trace of an erased message, and Tez claims you must’ve misunderstood him, because he denies telling you a different story.”

Fuck! Michael was right – it has now become a matter of he said/she said. Or am I confused? I begin to second-guess myself again. But I shouldn’t, because the second-guessing is what makes me get mixed up.

“And you believe Tez?” I can’t even!

“I believe the evidence, and I’ve tried to find something, anything to support what you say, but everything works against you. I don’t fucking know what’s going on anymore.”

“Neither do I, but I don’t let our relationship suffer. And I’m positive that Tez is not to be trusted.”

“At this point, I don’t even care about the damn message anymore, Fallon,” Luca bellows, his foul temper shining through. “I have to know what the hell’s going on in your mind.”

“So instead of coming home to talk to me, you went out to drink? And by the way, I do care about the message because unless I prove I received it, I’ll never earn back your trust.”

“I didn’t go out to drink; I drank at the club.”

From the middle of the night until morning, when no other members would be there to see him, I suppose. “Why?!”

“Because I don’t know what to do with you.”

“You don’t know what to do with yourself,” I tell him. “You shut down the second there’s an issue involving me or the twins. Ever since we had them, you’ve become increasingly protective, and since Noah’s accident, you’re the one who’s lost it. You’re being consumed by the need to control what’s going on and protect us, but I’m your wife and not one of your soldiers, and you can’t just stay away.”

“I stay away because the situation has me in the dark, the situation that you’re creating and prolonging by involving other members. I feel as if I’m always the underboss, whether I’m at the club or at home. You were my solace, and where are you lately? I have to worry about everything that goes on in this apartment now! That’s why I dread coming home.” His words hit me in the heart as if he’s aimed an arrow straight at me.

“I-I don’t have the answers you seek, and you won’t let me find them, so what do you expect me to do?”

He spins around, and as he moves to the island, he confesses in a torn tone, “I don’t know.”

I inch closer, stopping right behind him. “I feel as if my soul is being ripped from my chest while I have to watch you pull away, Luca.”

“I’m not pulling away. I’m doing damage control to safeguard you and my children – continuously, which I failed at once and my son got hurt!” The bitterness in his voice can’t be contained.

“You can’t forgive me for what happened with Noah, because we have no one else to blame.” I grind my teeth. “And while you obsessively try to hold on to control, in the meantime, you’re deteriorating because you’re drinking whiskey – alcohol affects you negatively – you might do something you’ll regret when you drink. You pull away because you’re afraid to relinquish a little control to me, to give me the benefit of the doubt while I’m positive you’re all missing something.”

“I want my wife back,” he growls, twisting around. “The one who’s content with her life and not a part of this Syndicate chaos.”

“I’m still here, and I am a part of the Syndicate, because of you. More importantly, I don’t run away. You’re the one who needs protection, but you don’t see that. I protect you by keeping your secret,” I reveal, making him tense as he examines me closely.

Does he think I don’t know how livid Adriano will be if he finds out Luca has been drinking? Abusing drugs or alcohol is forbidden in the organization.

“If you want me back, then be the man I married. Just be with me, like you used to. Trust me to be strong enough to handle this situation. I think I’m handling it a lot better than you are so far. Did you know I’m teaching the kids to roll onto their tummies alone? It’s something you and I should do together, but you’re always gone, or when you’re home, you’re a million miles away. I miss you so much, and you didn’t miss a moment with them the first three months, but everything has changed since Noah’s accident. I can’t keep going through the same motions with you.”

His eyes narrow, and he unpredictably demands, “Did you inform Michael?”

“Yes, like you ordered me,” I respond, realizing that I need to be smarter or else I’ll lose Luca’s devotion entirely.

Or have I already lost it? All the evidence points to me lying, but my instinct screams at me that I didn’t misunderstand Tez at all and that he’s the key.

Then I can’t refrain from adding, “I tell Michael everything because you’re gone so much.”

Luca’s fists clench before he disguises it by gripping the edge of the counter as he leans back a little.

I power on, not knowing how to get through to Luca otherwise, “If you want to ruin this marriage, you’re well on your way.”

His expression turns lethal as he stands there watching me like some kind of dark angel. The silence is loud. It’s deafening. It’s frightening. And I shouldn’t have ever said that to the underboss.

Then he advances on me like a cat stalking his prey. I retreat just as fast, passing the length of the coffee table until I hit the window and he stops right in front of me so that we’re nose-to-chest.

When I peek up, there’s an undercurrent of furious pain on his face, and he plants both hands against the window to cage me in, bending low to my ear. “Don’t threaten me.”

“I’m not,” I defend, detesting how he repeatedly misinterprets me. However, I’m denied the chance to continue when a howl comes from the bedroom.

Immediately, Luca steps back, and as he rolls his neck, he marches around the table to go into the hall.

I ignore my desire to cry. If I had a shred of proof, he’d believe me, but luck is always against me lately. Despondent, I shift to the bedroom to see Luca lifting Noah from his crib at the foot of the framed bed.

He kisses his head in the gentlest manner, smelling his hair in the same way I do, and whispers, “You’re my little buddy.” He represses his fury for the sake of his kids.

In reality, while Luca might push me away, he’ll always remain the best father. They melt him in a way I used to. I crave to have my husband back as he cuddles with Noah, who looks so tiny in Luca’s toned arms. Then he lays Noah down to peck Milana, who’s still asleep, and disappears into the bedroom.

I go over to Noah, peeking over the rim of the crib, and he grins widely at me. “Good morning, my baby.”

In that second, I realize how, sometimes, only the twins can pull us out of our troubling thoughts and worries.

Before I know it, Luca comes back into the bedroom, looking perfectly polished, as always, in his navy suit, sans tie, and with his hair combed back, his clean-shaven jaw and vivid green eyes not betraying a sign of his drunkenness.

“It’s going to be a busy day, and all the kids are going to Adriano’s apartment where the sitter and a guard will be while we’re all at the closing down party. Cam will pick them up at five and I’ll come get you at eight,” he methodically comments, rubbing Noah’s feet as he passes me, and I breathe in his citrus cologne, resisting the urge to sigh.

Then he carries on without another word, another conversation between us unresolved.

Deep down, I understand Luca’s reaction because when I first found out he was the underboss of the Italian mafia, I feared so much for his life that it almost destroyed us. And he currently has that same sentiment coursing through his veins, only, it’s more intense because our two babies are involved. Maybe we’re both fixated on how to shelter the children? Nevertheless, we need to repair this mess to fix this dilemma, but I’m not sure how to get through to Luca and tonight is my window of opportunity.