Chapter 22: Chapter 22

a batch of vegetarian sweet potato chili for tomorrow and didn’t turn when the door swung open behind me. To think that in the past I would have tensed, fearing the worst, it made me smile at how far I’d come.

Arms came around me and Nino kissed my throat, then my cheek. I turned in his embrace to peer up at him. Something in his expression, a flicker of hesitance, made me put the spoon down and turn to him fully. Had something happened to Adamo? He’d been doing better, right? Or had it just been pretense?

“What’s wrong?”

“One of the whores got pregnant and when Remo found out, he forbade her from working. She returned a couple of weeks ago, telling everyone she’d given the baby up for adoption. Today Jerry heard mewling coming from the trash. He thought a cat had given birth to kittens in the dumpsters…”

My heart was already squeezing tightly with realization.

“Jerry told Remo and me because he still needed to work the bar. We found a baby, a few weeks old, malnourished, dehydrated.”

I swallowed. “She threw her baby in the trash.”

“She didn’t take good care of him even before. Remo’s taken him to the hospital. He’s waiting for us.”

I blinked at Nino, understanding what he was suggesting. I sucked in a sharp breath, tears springing into my eyes and I began to tremble. Nino frowned, worry flickering across his face.

“I know you want to get pregnant, give birth to our child but—”

I interrupted him with a desperate kiss, cupping his face, crying. “I’ll love this baby with all my heart. Thank you, thank you so much.”

“It was Remo’s idea.” Nino pressed his forehead to mine for a moment. “Let’s go.”

I nodded slowly, but couldn’t move, too overwhelmed. Was this really happening? And should I even feel as happy as I did? After all, something horrible had happened. I turned off the stove, taking another deep breath.

“Kiara?” Nino asked softly.

“Let’s go,” I said, squeezing his hand.

, we stepped into the hospital room. Remo stood over a small baby lying in its bed and attached to beeping machines and a tube going into its nose. He was speaking in a hushed voice to the boy while stroking his arm. The baby’s eyes were open and watching Remo.

“Finally,” he said, as he straightened and with a last look at the baby came toward us. His gaze flickered over my teary cheeks and a hint of softness crossed his face that he so rarely showed to the outside world. “He’s about five weeks old. They say we can take him home tomorrow if we insist.”

“They won’t alert the authorities?” I asked as I approached the bed and bent over the little boy. His hair was soft and honey brown, and his eyes were bluish. I knew that often changed within a child’s first year.

“We are the fucking authorities in this city,” Remo said.

My eyes landed on the name tag on the crib. Boy. Falcone.

I traced the name, feeling my throat clog up once more as I glanced over my shoulder. Both Nino and Remo were watching me.

“I didn’t know what name you wanted for him, but his last name was easy,” Remo said.

I rushed toward him and threw my arms around his middle. He touched the back of my head briefly. “I don’t care if the world hates you, I’ll defend you against all of them.”

“I don’t give a fuck if the world hates me as long as the people who matter don’t,” Remo said, untangling my arms from his waist. “Now take care of your son.”

I gave him and Nino a teary smile then paused. “What if the mother asks for him?”

Any gentleness disappeared from both Nino’s and Remo’s faces. A shared past that carried into the present.

Remo’s eyes shone with hatred and anguish, and once again I wished someone had protected those Falcone boys when they needed it most. “She threw him into the dumpster like garbage. She left him for dead when she should have protected him, when she should have kept him safe till her last fucking breath. She isn’t his mother. You are, because in the few seconds you know him you already love him more than she ever did.”

Nino closed his eyes for a moment and when he met my gaze they were controlled and calm but I’d caught the blaze of emotion.

“When is his birthday?”

“I’ll find out. I’m heading over to the Sugar Trap now to talk to her. Jerry told me she was in her room with a John when he checked.”

I grabbed Remo’s forearm. “Don’t kill her.”

Remo’s expression reflected stark cruelty and utter hatred. “She threw her own child into the dumpster while she fucked a John and you think she deserves to live?”

I ran my thumb along the crisscross scars on his wrist and his face became even scarier ,if that was even possible. Nino put his hands on my shoulders. “Kiara. Let Remo handle this.”

“Maybe she doesn’t deserve to live, but maybe she doesn’t deserve death either. Hear her out, then judge her. There must be other options than killing her. Her death won’t change anything, not for the baby or for you.”

Remo ripped free from my hold. “I respect you but sometimes your kindness blinds you to the fucking truth. Go over to him and look at his stomach then repeat what you just said.”

Dread settled in my bones, immobilized me. Not Nino who walked over to the crib, pulled up the tiny gown then became very still, very dangerous and when his eyes settled on me I knew the woman would die. “He’s got two cigarette burns on his stomach.”

Remo regarded me, his mouth twisting cruelly, and cocked one eyebrow.

“Please find out as much as possible about him.”

“Choose a name for him because he sure as fuck won’t carry the name the whore who tried to kill him gave him.” Remo stepped out and thrust the door shut, making me jump. I joined Nino beside the bed and peered down at the boy.

“Nobody will ever hurt you again, nobody will come close,” I promised, stroking his tiny head then his cheek, wondering if anyone had ever shown him love so far. My heart broke and at the same time something fiercer, darker rose in my chest.

Nino kissed the side of my head. “I told you the same shortly after we married.”

“I know, and you kept your promise ever since. Will you protect our son like you protect me?”

“I’d lay my life down for you and him.”

My heart was already full with love for the little baby I barely knew but I wondered what Nino felt. For him it was difficult to form emotional bonds and I figured it would take time for him to come to love our son, like it had taken time for him to love me.

“What should we name him?” Nino asked eventually.

“I always wanted to name my son Alessio, but what do you want?”

Nino shook his head. “I never considered having kids, not like you did. I think Alessio is a strong name that fits into our family.”

“Alessio then?”

He nodded and I bent over our son and kissed his forehead. “Alessio Falcone, welcome to your family.”

Nino gently rubbed my back as I peered down at the tiny baby. A small scratch marred his left cheek and I gently brushed over it.

“Maybe he was cut by something in the trash,” Nino said neutrally. “He’s lucky the bags didn’t cover up his head and choke him.”

I swallowed. “You’re safe now.”

A nurse came in for a check in fifteen minutes later, and relaxed when she spotted me, probably relieved that Remo was gone, but her relaxation only lasted until she noticed Nino leaning against the wall, watching everything with vigilant eyes.

“Hello,” she said hesitantly.

I smiled.

“You are …?”

Nino pushed away from the wall. “We are the boy’s parents.”

The nurse blinked, confusion flickering on her face. “But—”

Nino raised an eyebrow with an expression that sent a small shiver down my back.

The nurse nodded quickly. “Of course. Right.” She moved toward the crib and Nino stepped up to it as well, causing her to stiffen.

“I’m just going to remove the tubes so you can try to feed him with a bottle, if that’s okay?”

Nino gave a sharp nod. “Go on.”

The nurse was careful and gentle with Alessio, but he began to cry when she pulled out the feeding tubes from his nose and my heart broke hearing his wails even if it was necessary. I couldn’t stop imagining how often he’d cried in the past, how often those cries had gone unanswered or even been punished.

The nurse said, “I’ll get a bottle for you.”

The moment she was outside, I rested my palm very gently on top of Alessio’s chest, trying to show him that I was here. “Shhh. You’re safe. Your dad and I will protect you.”

I could see the surprise on Nino’s face as he was mulling over his new role—a father. “Maybe you can try to be less scary toward the nurse?” I said softly.

Nino took my hand and pressed a kiss to my wrist. “I don’t care if she’s scared. She needs to know her place and understand the consequences, if something happens to Alessio.”

The nurse stepped back in, robbing me of a chance to give a comeback. With a small shake of my head, I rolled my eyes. Nino was already focused on the woman—

like Remo he saw almost everyone as an intruder.

I took the bottle from her. “Thanks.” Alessio looked smaller than the babies I’d seen so far.

The nurse hovered beside me.

“We can handle this,” Nino drawled. “We’ll call you if we need anything.”

She turned and left without another word.

“I can’t hurt him because of his wounds?” I asked.

Nino shook his head. “The burns aren’t very fresh.”

Taking a deep breath, I carefully picked up Alessio and pressed him to my chest, and it felt perfect—as if it was meant to be, he and I and Nino, becoming a family. “Maybe it’s fate,” I whispered thickly. “All of us have experienced horrors in our past but we’ll create a beautiful future together.”

Nino stroked my hair, not saying anything, only smiling. He didn’t believe in fate or anything like it. “Try giving him the bottle, see if he’s hungry.”

I brushed the dummy over his tiny mouth and he opened it, starting to suck eagerly. My eyes drank in his beautiful face. He sucked so quickly he barely breathed in between. I pulled back the bottle a few inches. “Shhh. You’ll get the bottle. Not so fast.”

“It’s probably because he had to go hungry in the past. We need to show him that he’ll always get what he needs from now on.”

I nodded, unable to say anything. Alessio moved his lips, wanting the bottle again and I slowly slid it back in, making sure he didn’t choke.

Nino and I both stayed in the hospital with Alessio overnight, making sure he got everything he needed and was well protected. After initial protests, two nurses rolled in a bed for us to spend the night on … after Nino had a talk with them. I pushed it right next to the crib so I could watch Alessio while I lay in bed. Nino slid in beside me but he didn’t stretch out. With his back against the bars of the headrest, he kept vigil.

Alessio fidgeted a lot and cried a few times but always quieted when he felt our touch or got the bottle. I often caught myself lying awake, listening for Alessio’s soft breathing, trying to reassure myself that he was still there, still Nino’s and mine. Nino didn’t sleep at all. Whenever I woke, his eyes were open, keeping watch, protecting us.

“Sleep, Kiara,” he murmured eventually. “I’ll make sure you two are safe.”

I knew he would.