Samuel’s face became still, and Mom swallowed before she managed an encouraging smile and squeezed my hand.
“This will be cold for a moment,” the doctor warned me.
I nodded distractedly, my eyes fixed on the ultrasound.
The doctor started frowning, moving the ultrasound around on my belly. The thud-thud of a heartbeat filled the room and my own heart sped up, swelling with love and wonder. But the thud-thud was off, as if it was off-beat, two out-of-sync rhythms.
Mom’s eyes widened, but I wasn’t sure why, and fear filled me. I stared at her, then the doctor, then Samuel, but he looked as confused as I felt.
“Oh God,” Mom whispered.
“What? What’s going on?”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “Twins.”
The doctor nodded, and my eyes jerked toward Samuel.
“Like us,” I said in wonder.
He managed a small smile, but his eyes held worry.
The knowledge that I carried twins changed things for Mom. It was as if she could finally see the babies as mine, not as something alien.
Samuel seemed to be coming around as well. He painted the nursery and set up the furniture for me. And Sofia? She was ecstatic about the prospect of being an aunt. But Dad ... Dad had a harder time. He didn’t mention the pregnancy and never looked anywhere below my chin. I understood him, couldn’t possibly be angry because his eyes reflected his conflict.
I often managed to feel like I belonged once more, managed to pretend I wasn’t forced to hide in our home so no one found out I was pregnant. What I didn’t manage was to stop thinking about the man who was the reason for everything.
Every night I lay awake in bed. Every time I stroked my bump I saw him before my eyes. And every time I was torn between anger and longing. Sometimes I wondered if I should find a way to let him know, but then I thought of my family, of their slow healing process, of what my kidnapping had done to them, and I couldn’t do it. What did you owe the man who kidnapped you? Who tried to destroy the people you cared about? The man who took your heart, only to push you away?
Nothing.
I owed Remo Falcone nothing.
These were my children, and they’d grow up as part of my family, as part of the Outfit. I’d hide the truth from them as long as I could. They would not find out who their father was until they had to. If I wanted them to have a chance in the Outfit, they couldn’t be Falcones. They couldn’t be associated with Remo at all.
In mid-May I gave birth to the most beautiful creations I could imagine and knew with absolute certainty that everything I’d wished for them would never become reality.
CHAPTER 24
SERAFINA
I loved my family with all my heart. And they loved me. But the moment I held my children in my arms, I knew I could not stay with them forever, knew it with soul-crushing certainty.
Nevio and Greta were Remo. Dark eyes, thick black hair.
For everyone in the Outfit they’d always be Falcones, always the result of something horrid, born out of something shameful, something dark. But for me they were the most beautiful creation I could imagine. They were utter perfection. Twins like Samuel and me. They would lift each other up, make each other stronger like Samuel and I had done when we were younger and still did. It would be us against the world. It couldn’t be any other way.
Samuel stayed with me in the hospital after the birth while Mom went home for a few hours of sleep after twenty hours at my side during labor. Samuel’s eyes were kind and loving as they looked down at me, but these tender emotions vanished as soon as he turned toward my children sleeping in their cradle. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, but my children reminded him of something he and everyone else were desperate to forget.
And how could he not be reminded when my twins looked like Falcones?
My heart ached fiercely when I looked at them, throbbing with a longing I’d tried to bury with the memories of Remo, but Remo wasn’t a man that could be forgotten.
Not easily, not quickly, not ever.
Two days after giving birth, Mom and Samuel carried my twins into the house because I still had trouble lifting anything heavier than a glass of water. The family had come together for the occasion, but I knew it wasn’t to celebrate. Dad and Dante probably needed to discuss how to keep my children a secret. The Underbosses knew. They had to for the sake of the Outfit. Danilo did, but I hadn’t talked to him since the day Sofia had been promised to him.
Samuel held my arm while his other carried the baby carrier. Walking the stairs was more than a little uncomfortable, and I was glad when I finally arrived inside our house.
Valentina came toward me and hugged me gently. She and Dante were still trying for child number three, but so far it wasn’t working. She peered down at my babies with a soft smile. “They are beautiful, Serafina.”
“They are,” I agreed.
Sam and Dad exchanged a look, and it felt like a stab in the heart because when they looked at my children they saw the black hair and dark eyes and nothing more. They saw Falcones. They saw shame and guilt. Would they ever allow my babies to be more than the greatest failure in the history of the Outfit?
Sofia rushed down the staircase followed by Anna. Leonas showed less enthusiasm than the girls as he sauntered down the steps, rolling his eyes.
Sofia stopped beside me and Samuel, looking down at Greta sleeping soundly in the carrier. I’d noticed that Samuel had insisted on carrying Greta, not Nevio, but I tried not to put too much meaning into it. Sofia hadn’t been allowed in the hospital because we didn’t want to draw too much attention to us, and her eyes were wide in surprise.
“Wow,” she breathed. “I’ve never seen hair that black.”
She’d never seen Remo.
Anna nodded as she lightly brushed a finger over Nevio’s head. His eyes peeled open and as always when they did, my breath lodged in my throat. Dark eyes. Remo’s eyes. Even at two days old, my boy was his father.
Dad averted his eyes, brows pulling tight, and looked at Dante with an expression that tore me cleanly in half.
Valentina squeezed my shoulder and leaned in. “It takes time, Serafina. Give them time. One day they will see your babies as what they are: only yours.”
I nodded, but deep down I knew Greta and Nevio would never only be mine because they were also Remo’s, and nothing could change that. And I didn’t want it to.
The next day, I was cradling Greta in my arm while Nevio rested on the sofa beside me, deep asleep when Dante came in. He strode toward us, his eyes flickering over my children. His expression didn’t give anything away, and I wondered if it was because he didn’t resent my twins like everyone else or if he was too good at hiding his true feelings.
He sank down in the armchair across from me, opening his jacket so it didn’t wrinkle. He gave me a tense smile. “How are you?”
I stroked Greta’s cheek before I looked up again. “Good.”
He nodded. “I know things aren’t easy for you, Serafina. It was never meant to be like this. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while ...” He trailed off, his expression tightening. “But I’m not in the habit of justifying my actions, nor apologizing.”
I frowned. “You are Capo.”
“I am, but that doesn’t make me infallible.” He paused. “I think you should know that when Remo kidnapped you, your father would have handed over his territory to save you. I didn’t allow it. And Samuel attacked the mansion without my permission because I wouldn’t have allowed it. I’m not a man who answers to another’s demands. I refuse to be blackmailed. I have to think of the Outfit.”
“I know and I understand, Uncle.” Then I paused. “But in the end you gave Scuderi to Remo.”
Something dark and furious flashed in Dante’s eyes. “I did. Because I’m not only Capo. I’m a father. I’m your uncle. This is my family, and I owe it protection. I owed you protection and I failed.” He lowered his gaze to my children. “You’ll have to live with the consequences of my decisions.”
I shook my head. “Those decisions gave me my children, and that’s not something I could ever regret.”
Dante got up and touched my shoulder. Then he traced his index finger over Greta’s head before he turned. Like Samuel and Dad, he had a harder time looking at Nevio than at my daughter. I peered down at my son and took his little hand in mine, and not for the first time I wondered what Remo would see when he saw them.
A high pitched wail sounded.
Samuel and I jerked up at the same time from where we’d fallen asleep on the sofa in the nursery. We didn’t bother going into our beds most of the time because Nevio and Greta woke every two hours. He and Mom took turns helping me, and during the day Sofia changed diapers and helped feed them as well. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept more than two hours in the last six months.
Samuel rubbed his face. I knew he didn’t sleep much on the nights he wasn’t helping either. The Outfit was planning something. He had only hinted to it, but it could only be an attack on the Camorra. It scared me, terrified me because I wasn’t only scared for Samuel and Dad but also for the man I couldn’t forget.
I stood and so did Samuel. He reached for Greta like usual and I took Nevio. This was our routine, one I didn’t question anymore. I was glad for Samuel’s support, even if he couldn’t bear being near my son.