“No! I haven’t talked to them since the night we thought they were dead. I’ve been a little distracted today. I meant to tell you earlier.”
He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the phone like the texts would disappear. “This is the last fucking thing I need.”
“Should we call them?”
Luca shook his head. “There’s no we, Sasha. I’ll handle it.”
I rolled my lips in as I carried our food to the refrigerator. “Tootsie doesn’t trust you.”
“We’re family.”
“And both families are trying to kill them.”
Deep in thought, Luca wiped the table down as the grandfather clock in the entryway chimed nine times.
“We better get over to the Abates.” Placing a kiss on his chin, I hugged him tightly, enjoying the feel of him in my arms. Our breathing synced up, and we rocked back and forth until he took one last deep breath and let me go.
“I love you.” He tugged my earlobe, a serious look on his face as he leaned in, softly pressing his lips to mine. “It’s you before everything.” He whispered against my lips, the gentle brushing sending a delicious tingle down my spine.
“I love you. Now, you better stop being all cute and sweet before your poor mother sees something that will scar her for life.”
Luca chuckled and let me go. “You’re such a good daughter.”
He was quiet as we left the house, not bothering to tell Rosa. It wasn’t until we were on the highway that he spoke. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You can call them, but I’ll take over once Tootsie and Zoe understand I had nothing to do with whatever happened at the cabin.”
“And you’re going to help them, right?”
“Now that I know they’re alive, I’ll do my best.”
I linked our fingers together. “That’s all I can ask.”
SEVENTEEN
Beautiful white flowers filled the front of the church and covered the closed casket. Due to the violent nature of Pete’s death, a traditional open casket was impossible and only added to the anger simmering under Luca’s skin. He died checking on an alarm at our house, and on a regular night, I would’ve been there. Guilt became a constant companion, but I kept it to myself. Everyone had enough to deal with without me adding my bullshit to it.
Getting ready for Pete’s funeral was a surreal experience. Rosa prepped me for what was expected, as it would be my first big event as the soon-to-be Mrs. Moretti. She filled me in on family trees and showed me pictures of Pete’s mom, Mrs. Abate, so that I would recognize her without an introduction. Entering the church, people walked a fine line between gushing over our upcoming wedding and offering condolences to Mrs. Abate and Maria.
A short, round woman, Mrs. Abate had a stiff upper lip and didn’t shed a tear during the service. The priest motioned for her to say a few words, but she shut it down with one jerk of her chin, her hand locked in Maria’s. In her place, Luca stood up. It occurred to me he’d speak, but then again, I had no idea how a boss handled the death of one of his soldiers. Calling Pete that felt wrong, but it’s what he was. To survive in this world, you had to call a spade a spade.
Dressed in a beautifully tailored black suit, his shoulders broad, and his back straight as an arrow, Luca exuded power. His eyes held none of the softness you’d expect at a funeral. No, they were full of quiet anger and the promise of retribution. “Pete is gone too soon. A man with a big heart, he loved his family more than himself. He will not be forgotten, not now,” Luca looked at Mrs. Abate and then at Maria. “Not ever.” Both women dipped their heads, Maria’s eyes full of tears.
With those brief words, he left the pulpit and joined me in the pew. I laced our fingers together, needing a connection to him.
Person after person got up to say their goodbyes. Luca leaned over as the speeches winded down, his lips grazing my ear as he whispered, “You need to get up and say a few words.”
Nodding, I stood and smoothed my dress. I’d prepared a little something, just in case.
“For those of you that don’t know, I’m Sasha Mitchell. Pete—” Taking a breath, I smiled at Maria. “Pete was one of a kind. He was kind and quiet but had his own unique sense of humor. No matter how much I begged him, he refused to call me Sasha. First, it was Ms. Mitchell, then Ms. Sasha, and every time he said it, there was this little twinkle in his eye because he knew he was driving me crazy.” Reserved laughter echoed off the high ceilings of the church.
“Most recently, he took to calling me Mrs. Moretti.” I looked at Luca, tears making him a dark blur. My face heating up, I looked up at the ceiling and swallowed the lump in my throat. Gaining some semblance of control, I cleared my throat and continued. “Pete took me under his wing and showed me the ropes. He treated me like family, and we all know what a privilege that is.” I smiled at Luca, but his face stayed a blank mask. “When I met Luca, I didn’t know just how big my family would become. Today we say goodbye to one of our own, but we will never forget the amazing friend, son, and husband Pete was.”
I patted the lectern. Instead of going back to my seat, I went over to Mrs. Abate. She stood, and before she stopped me, I pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry for your loss. You need anything, you tell me.”
Her stiff hair rubbed against my cheek as she nodded. Holding her shoulders, I looked her in the eye. There were no tears, only all the pain of losing her son. “I mean it. I don’t want to hear about you struggling or not taking care of yourself. We got you.”