“Yeah, right, with those fucking doe-eyes of yours looking at me like a broken puppy. You know as well as I do that Nino and I can’t hurt a single of your unruly hairs.” I knew Nino couldn’t hurt me, and I’d always suspected that Remo would at least hesitate before hurting me, but hearing him admit he was incapable of inflicting me pain filled me with warmth. To think that I’d been terrified of becoming a Falcone, of my marriage to Nino, when it had given me a man who loved me, and brothers that meant more to me than my blood relatives.
