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On his own, he’s handsome, but next to Angelo, he may as well be a lamppost.
“I don’t think he’s a psycho,” I argue. “He’s just a little…unhinged.” “You might as well call a kidnapping an extended date,” Val says.
“Through every version of us.” Gabi leans closer, murmuring the words only for me. I nod at her, my eyes brimming with tears. It’s the pact we all made with each other. No matter what life throws at us, we’ll always have each other—through every season, every storm, and all the things in between.
“If other men can't see your ring across the room, I'm not doing my job.”
“You know what to expect tonight?” She makes a gesture as if she’s sprinkling seeds. “The garden?” I can’t help but laugh as I nod emphatically. “Yes, Nonna. I understand.” “How?” She frowns, worry creasing her brow. “I read a lot of spicy books.” She nods, as though that makes perfect sense. “Fabio.” “Something like that,” I agree for her sake. There’s no way I’m telling her how much romance books have changed since her time.
Abella is soft-hearted, but she’s not weak. And though the truth might be ugly, she needed to know the things her father had done. It was the one thing she asked of me when we planned to marry. Never feed her pretty lies. Maurizio doesn’t get the luxury of taking his sins to the grave. When I glance down at Abella and see that she’s asleep, I press a soft kiss to her lips. “Buonanotte, angelo mio. Sei al sicuro adesso.”
“Pack your things, Genevieve.” I smile sweetly. “You’re fired.” She laughs and shakes her head. “You can’t fire me.” “Oh, but I can, and I just did. In case you forgot, I’m Mrs. Vitale—and I’m done with your bullshit.” “I’m going to take this up with Angelo,” she huffs. “That’s fine. You can take it up with Jesus, too, if you want. It still won’t change the outcome.”

