Page 122 of Mafia And Maid
“I know,” Camillo says more quietly. “They were our parents. We’ll never forget what happened to them and how they left us.”
“It’s even harder to accept we’ve got people who love us now,” Marco continues. “Afamilywho care about us.” There’s another pause and what sounds like drinks being poured. “I know we’ve always had each other—always will have each other—but there’s always something around us. Guilt? Sadness? I don’t fucking know, but it clings to us likea second fucking skin no matter what I do. I’ve tried hard to do what I could for you all.”
“We were dealt a shitty hand...” Camillo’s voice is low. “You did your best.”
“But I didn’t manage to fix it, did I? It was Juliana, Cate, the kids.” Another lingering pause. “Rosa and Ethan too. No. Don’t give me that look. You’re not as subtle as you think you are. We’re also not stupid. I see the way you look at her. Theyallmake us a proper family. They get rid of that shit that haunts us like ghosts.”
Camillo’s reply comes in a mumbled response I can’t quite pick up. Their voices continue softly for a few more minutes.
I shake my head and back away from the door, then wander down the hall. But the sound of the doorknob turning sets my spine tingling, and I hurry my step, mop and bucket handle clenched in my fists as Camillo and Marco leave his office.
But the air around them is different. Less charged. Lighter.
Marco claps Camillo on the back before they part ways.
They seem to have made up. I breathe out a sigh of relief and head back to the utility room to change out the mop water.
“Rosa?”
Startling, I knock over the half-filled bucket into the sink with a small, muttered curse. And my heart lodges in my throat.
I turn to face Marco. “Y-yes?”
“I didn’t…” He clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Earlier,” he grits out. “You making the cake was thoughtful. I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
Is this his way of apologizing?
My brow puckers, unsure. “No one should have to make their own cake on their birthday,” I say quietly. “I didn’t know. What I mean, I wasn’t aware that making all the cakes was your thing and a sort of tradition for you. I’m sorry I overstepped.”
His jaw ticks, but he nods. “Things change when we bring new people into the family. It’s not a bad thing. See you at dinner.”
All I can do is nod mutely, unsure what the feeling fluttering inside me is. It’s different from the way Camillo makes me feel. This is something else entirely. Something that warms me differently.
Family. This is how a family is supposed to act. Do they really consider Ethan and me as family? Or is he just being polite to make up for what he said earlier?
Family.
The word settles against my skin, leaving me confused and hopeful. And I know that it’s a dangerous combination because danger will always be waiting for me in the shadows...
CHAPTER 30
CAMILLO
The conversation in Marco’s office replays in my head repeatedly.
Family. A fucked-up f-word that I guard like a rabid dog.
And yet, the word is broken to me all the same.
But by some miracle, we still have something. Something imperfect, with jagged edges and tattered holes, but it’s something. And it’s something that includes Rosa and Ethan in every single version of it that plays in my head.
My stomach rumbles as I enter the kitchen. Thanks to some fucker trying to be smart, I missed both lunch and dinner.
But even worse, I missed getting to spend time with Rosa in the kitchen before it was all finished, hearing about all the things Ethan had to tell me. To say my mood is sour is a gross understatement. I hate missing those moments, soaking up all I can with both of them.
That asshole is no longer still breathing. It’s the very least he fucking deserves.
Heading through the open door into the backyard, I round the corner and glimpse Rosa lounging in a chair on the deck. Nestled into her is a sleeping Ethan.