Valentine’s Day

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“HURRY UP,” I ORDER three workers as they pack up their stuff in our penthouse and disappear into the elevator.

Adriano comes from down the hall, inspecting the wall behind the oak dinner table. “It looks great. The bedrooms are huge.”

“They did well,” I reply as my phone rings in my hand, so I bring it up. “Hey.”

“Hey, you called?” Fallon answers, and I hear a lot of background noise.

“Where are you?”

“Still at the mall with the kids. I saw a bunch of cute stuffed animals I had to get.”

Around a smile, I retort, “Then come home to show me. Are you done?”

“I still have to get lunch.”

“I’ll order lunch,” I say, not wanting her to stay away any longer. When I’m home, I need my wife with me. “Come back.”

“I’m ready, but the guard isn’t here yet, so I think I’ll walk home. I’d rather do that anyway.”

I grit my teeth but compromise, trusting in her strength. “Okay.”

“And don’t send anyone. I’m fine.”

The thought of something happening to one of them still terrifies me to my core, so I’m still just as possessive of Fallon and where she goes, but I handle it in a much better way.

“Okay,” I tell her and hang up before calling another guard on Michael’s team. As soon as he picks up, I command, “It’s Luca. Go to the mall and keep an eye on my wife and children while she walks back to the Blackhall. Make sure she doesn’t see you and has her privacy.”

“Yes sir,” he confirms and shows me he’s being trained well by Michael when he adds, “I’ll message you when I start to follow her and will message you the second she reaches the front entrance, sir.”

“Good. Thank you.” I cut the call just as Adriano shows me a knowing grin.

“I don’t have time to get into a discussion with Fallon,” I defend. “This is for my own sanity.”

He holds up his palms in fake defense. “I didn’t say a word. You two are good?”

“Yes, better actually,” I reveal in good conscience.

“I’m glad. Then prepare for the opening tonight, business as usual. No one speaks a word about the organization; remind everyone that none of the restaurant staff is aware of the Syndicate.” Walking to the elevator, he calls for it and moves inside. “I’ll see you at six.”

I nod before strolling toward the couch and ordering a chicken salad for Fallon. Luckily, within fifteen minutes, the door opens and she’s pushing in the twin stroller. Both Noah and Milana are sound asleep, wrapped warmly in their hats and coats.

Fallon brings up a brown bag. “I ran into the delivery guy.”

“That’s your chicken salad,” I reply as she rounds the stroller, and I lean down to cup the back of her head, pressing a hard kiss to her luscious pink lips.

“Thanks. I’m starving.” Then she looks at the wall and rounds the couch toward the dark wood shelves that extend halfway up to the high ceiling with a matching sliding library ladder.

The men have pulled the dinner table and the seating area closer to the windows, so there’s less empty space.

“It looks amazing! And you stocked them already.” She traces the shelves with all her paperbacks, but there’s a lot of room for extra books. “I need more paperbacks,” she says, excited, and rushes down the hall to turn right into the first bedroom.

Following her, I stand in the doorway of Noah’s room with a large arched window on the opposite wall. Beneath the navy curtains is his crib and a dresser, and the newly built partition is painted with a Jungle Book theme. On the other side is a blue wall with a connecting door that leads into the bathroom. There’s enough space to put a king-size bed and closet as the kids grow up as well.

“I love it!” Fallon exclaims, passing me in the doorway to go next door.

The room is a mirror image of Noah’s, only this arched window has plum curtains and a purple painted wall where a large dollhouse is on display. A round pink rug is positioned in the center, and Milana’s crib has also been placed by the windows with the same dresser as Noah’s standing next to it.

“See, it’s girly with the purple,” she points out since I wanted pink.

“It is.” I loop my arms around her middle from behind, kissing her temple.

“Now we have a family home,” she whispers, leaning against me.

“Our home forever,” I tell her.

It’s our home and my solace as long as she’s here. In silence, we embrace, and with her, I can just be. Without any clashing thoughts, I enjoy a simple moment in time we often take for granted.

Then I turn Fallon around without releasing her and force her to walk forward to cross the hall into our master suite. Laughing, she lets me guide her to our bed where a large rectangular white box lies on the duvet.

“What’s this?” she asks as I drop my arms from around her waist, and she bends low to lift the top. After she pushes the silver decorating paper aside, she holds up a gown. “Is this for tonight?”

“Yes, do you like it?”

“It’s stunning.” She runs her fingers over the embroidered fabric.

“We have to be ready at five thirty.”

Her gaze whips to me. “What? I thought it was seven. Mary said she was going at seven.”

“Henry and Mary are coming later. Adriano and I have to be there when it opens, being the owners.”

“Oh, shoot. I still have to go to the hairdresser to do my hair and makeup.”

“You don’t have to. You look beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a woman – I need to groom.”

Grinning, I check my watch and suggest, “Then take your lunch. Go to the hairdresser to do your thing. A guard’s waiting downstairs, so he can drive you. I’m staying with the kids. Be back by five to dress, okay?”

“Okay. You’re the best.” She pecks my lips, hurrying out of the bedroom and out of the apartment before I’ve even reached the living room.

So as not to wake the twins up, I gingerly remove their hats and coats while they’re lying in the stroller. First, I pick up Milana who makes a face but remains asleep. I push my nose into her sparse brown hair before I lay her down in the bassinet next to the couch. Then I lift up Noah, holding him against my chest while he begins to fuss. Opening his eyes, he wails because I disturbed his sleep. His head lolls against my chest as he rouses and I can’t help but laugh.

“Are you feeling cranky, buddy? Sorry I woke you.” I rummage through the stroller and find a new red pacifier that Fallon must have gotten him that reads I love my daddy.

I press it into his mouth and he sucks eagerly. “Did mommy get you a Valentine’s gift?”

Sitting down on the couch next to the bassinet, I keep Noah against my chest, feeling his little body becoming heavier as sleep descends upon him. And I rub his back simply because it has a calming effect on me.

I stay with the twins, and knowing that Fallon’s all right, I’m absolutely content. It’s a sentiment a mafia man shouldn’t experience and certainly doesn’t deserve, but she’s given me peace in the middle of a rebellious existence.

***

GETTING OUT OF THE limousine, I hold out my hand to Fallon, who blinks when the cameras flash as she steps out. I lead her down the black carpet to opened double doors with an overhead sign that reads Palermo.

“Palermo? As in, the Sicilian capital where the mafia was born? I’m guessing that was Adriano’s idea?” Fallon inquires, amused, and I nod.

I watch her graceful movements as she adjusts her slim-fitting dress. A shimmering cream-colored fabric, embellished with tiny copper crystals that sparkle, hugs her snuggly from shoulder to hip.

“Wow, there are so many people.” She edges closer to straighten my black bow tie.

“Just some media for exposure,” I say, placing my hand at her lower back.

We cross the threshold into the carpeted foyer, passing the coat check to where the host, who’s wearing a black suit and tie, awaits us. She stands behind a tall podium next to some heavy white curtains. “Good evening, Mr. & Mrs. DeMiliano. Your table is upstairs.”

“Thank you,” I say as the curtains open automatically to expose the vast expanse of the restaurant.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Fallon’s mutters.

The floor, furnishings, and ceiling are all black, but the total effect is not too dark due to the hundreds of sophisticated hanging bowl lights that are suspended from the high Italian marble and wood ceiling. Their yellow glow dances off the square tables that are scattered in the middle of the room, covered with white tablecloths that hold tall black vases with one white dahlia as a centerpiece, and surrounded by velvet black padded chairs.

Fallon’s gaze moves around the perimeter of the first floor where we’ve installed sleek, suede banquettes that end at the bar, which has glass shelves stocked with liquor bottles climbing up the wall. Towing her with me, I careen around the tables and nod at waiters holding up trays of champagne to hand out, on the house. They’re all dressed in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black tie to match the elegant décor.

“You would definitely expect exquisite, first-class food in this ultra-modern atmosphere,” she mentions, surveying the space in awe.

We ascend the staircase leading to the balconied second floor that serves as the VIP dining area for celebrities and influential people who want their privacy and provides a stunning view of the park across the street. Turning right, we go to the hallway where Adriano’s office is situated, which is reserved for the family. Adriano, Cam, and Michael are occupying a table and greet us.

“These chairs are fucking comfortable,” Adriano remarks, shucking off his tuxedo jacket as Fallon and I claim our seats across from him.

“Hey,” Fallon greets Michael, who’s sitting next to her.

“How’s your new guard?”

She makes a face. “Quiet. He talks even less than you.”

Michael laughs just when a waiter comes up to us, and I ask for menus, but Fallon speaks up, “I want my dessert first.”

The waiter glances at me, so I nod that it’s fine. “Would you still like to see the menu, ma’am?”

“No, I want the Dolcezza cake.”

“I’ll have one too,” Cam pipes in. “I’m hungry and don’t mind eating my sugar first.”

“Two Dolcezzas. I’ll be right back,” the waiter says, and Fallon looks at me right before we both laugh, sharing a private joke.

“Two Dolcezzas sounds weird.” She mock glares at me. “As if you have a mistress.”

Throwing my arm around her neck, I pull her close, burying my nose into her soft mahogany hair, breathing in her ambrosia scent and whispering, “You know I’d never do that. I’m nothing without you.”

Her head whips up in amazement. “That’s exactly what I said to Michael about you a few weeks back.”

I peck her nose. “See, we belong together.”

“Forever.” Her full lips tilt up into a salacious smile.

“Per sempre.” Forever.

Our gazes meet and hold, but just as I’m about to give her another kiss, Brielle interrupts and places plates in front of both Cam and Fallon that hold a round chocolate cake decorated with a curled candied orange slice and Dolcezza written in gold.

“Hey, Fallon. Hope you enjoy your dessert.”

“Thank you. It looks amazing.” She clutches my hand beneath the table, entirely relaxed, just as I am. “Sit, Brielle. Or are you busy?”

“No, I have a few minutes,” Brielle replies but keeps standing as she says something to Cam.

At that moment, I notice Michael staring at Brielle’s hand, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, just a silver bracelet around her wrist. Then Michael slinks away without a word to us, and Fallon and I look at one another with a frown.

“What was that?” she asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Does Michael know Brielle?” She keeps her voice soft.

“I don’t think so.”

“Hmm...weird,” she comments, yet I shake it off because Michael often has his melancholic moods.

Fallon takes her fork and slices of a piece of cake, bringing it to her mouth and sliding out her fork slowly. “It’s heaven,” she moans and slants a kiss onto my mouth.

“Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m glad you like it.”

She takes the slice of orange and bites off a chunk, offering me the rest, so I open my mouth as we lock eyes for a second before she pulls back since we have an audience. “It’s so chocolaty. Exactly what I love, and the candy orange slice is delicious.”

“That’s Brielle’s addition,” I explain.

Brielle smiles at me before telling Fallon, “I actually made full-size versions of all small desserts, and we’ve displayed them in the glass case at the bar. Have you seen it?”

“I haven’t.”

“Neither have I,” Cam states. “We’ll walk with you downstairs so we can see.”

“Okay.” Brielle turns away as Cam stands up, yet Fallon presses her mouth to mine and I cup the back of her head to deepen our kiss, as always, before I allow her to leave.

Grinning mischievously, she rises and follows Cam.

“Well, I haven’t seen that smirk in a while,” Adriano teases as I watch Fallon strutting downstairs and talking animatedly with Brielle and Cam.

Calmness settles in my dark soul where she’s the only light.

“Fallon’s taught me that I’m first and foremost a husband and father, not the underboss. I’m going home after dinner to spend time with my family,” I say with conviction, and he nods in agreement.

Then I look at my empire with pride, seeing Fallon standing in the center of it. Ultimately, she has been my savior. She’s showed me that she’s my equal in this marriage. She’s helped me to find absolute peace in an underworld where it shouldn’t exist. And with her by my side, there’s nothing we can’t overcome.

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The end.

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Chicago Syndicate series

The love story of Luca and Fallon

The love story of Adriano and Camilla

Although part of the Chicago Syndicate world, the following novels are standalones and can be enjoyed either with or without reading the rest of the series.

The love story of Logan and Rosalia (STANDALONE)

The love story of Henry and Mary (STANDALONE)

The love story of Carmine and Eva (STANDALONE)

The love story of Luca and Fallon (STANDALONE)