Devil’s Thirst: A Mafia Stalker Romance (The Moretti Men Book 1)
Devil’s Thirst: Chapter 22

Present

When I heard about the brunch gathering, I decided it would be an efficient way to announce my return and clear the air with Amelie. Two birds, one stone, no more secrets.

The public setting kept drama to a minimum, as I’d hoped, and I can guarantee the entire Moretti organization will hear word of my return within the hour. The ladies are probably all inside the restaurant now texting everyone they know. I need to go back inside and deal with the chaos I’ve stirred up, but my feet have bolted themselves to the concrete sidewalk so long as Amelie is still in view.

I hate letting her walk off into the city alone. It takes everything in me not to follow her, but I can’t. Not until I’ve spoken to Noemi.

She’s the only one who recognized me—the one person I’ve let down most in this world.

At least I’ve learned from my mistakes and won’t repeat them where Amelie is concerned. I’ll keep my tiny dancer safe no matter the cost, whether she likes my methods or not. That’s been our theme since the beginning, and now she knows it.

She may not have recognized me, but she remembered me. I saw the memories play out in her wide green eyes the second Noemi said my name. She remembers that night as vividly as I do.

I’d told myself it didn’t matter whether she remembered—it was a tiny hiccup in time, after all—but I was wrong. It means more than I care to admit that our interaction impacted her. That despite the alcohol and the brevity of our exchange, she remembered.

The knowledge is empowering. It confirms that I’m on the right path.

“I went by Mom’s grave this morning,” Noemi says softly as she joins me on the sidewalk. “There were pink peonies already there—her favorite. I wondered who … but I suppose now I know.”

I steel myself before meeting her loving gaze. It’s fucked up, but a part of me wishes she’d be angry with me. Avoiding her would be so much easier if she wasn’t so damn understanding.

“It’s good to see you,” I say stiffly, giving her a hug.

When she pulls back, she looks me over with perceptive eyes. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m good. A lot better than I was.”

“I can see that,” she says with the hint of a smile.

“Oh yeah? What can you see?” I’m not entirely sure what she means, and my need to know is too overwhelming not to ask.

“I see a man who’s confident and sure of himself. A man who’s taken ownership of his life. Maturity suits you.”

Fuck, I can’t breathe.

I don’t want to do this. I don’t deserve her kindness, and I don’t know how to explain myself without sounding like a fucking asshole.

“Had no choice but to grow up,” I say with a grimace.

Noemi rests her hand on my arm. “Were they hard on you? I worried about you constantly.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I bite back with more venom than I intend. “I had no option because I was a fucking waste of space. I had to get a clue or let someone put me out of my misery.”

“You were a kid, Sante.”

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” I pull away from her touch. “I need to handle some things.” My eyes cut inadvertently in the direction of Amelie’s departure.

“You have feelings for her?” Noemi asks gently.

It’s so much more complicated than that, but I don’t want to discuss it right now. “Something like that,” I say under my breath. I turn back to my sister and force a degree of warmth into my voice. “I know we need to catch up, and I definitely want to see your little ones, so I’ll come by your place soon. I have some things I need to do first.”

She grins broadly. “Hey, I’m your little big, remember? I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

The nickname I gave her reminds me of the naive kid that I was and grates on my already fraying nerves. “I’m not that person anymore, Em.”

“You may have changed, but you’ll always be my Sante.”

That’s it. I’m out.

I place a kiss on her cheek and walk away without another word. I don’t want to stay and say something I’ll regret. I already have enough regrets to last a lifetime.

“Someone knows how to make an entrance. My phone hasn’t blown up like that since my father passed away.” Renzo stands at his front door, having opened it before I finished walking up the steps to his brownstone home.

Renzo is my cousin and the boss of the Moretti crime family. All the men in my family have been part of the organization, and if I stay in the city, I’ll need his acceptance to return to the fold. He’d be entirely in his right to refuse me for a number of reasons, most prominently being concerns about my loyalty. I’ve spent four years as part of another organization. The fact that Renzo is the one who sent me there is irrelevant. I stayed longer than expected. He has good reason to be wary.

“Word got around,” I say in an even tone. “Sounds like the method was effective.”

“Effective, if not a tad dramatic.”

Tension coils in my shoulders. Renzo is a master at cloaking his emotions, and I’ve been gone long enough that reading his tells is a challenge.

“Wasn’t my intent. I’m not the same kid I was when I left.” I decide to cut to the chase, not sure if he’s giving me a hard time or genuinely concerned I’m still trouble.

“I can see that. Didn’t mean to imply you were.” He takes a step backward out of the doorway. “Why don’t you come in? I figure we have plenty to catch up on.”

Not an outright rejection.

I take it as a good sign and follow him inside, scanning the unusual style of the front entry. He bought the place right before I left, so I never got a chance to see it. It’s not what I expected from him, but it’s not terrible. A little rustic for my taste.

Renzo takes me back to his office and pours us each a drink.

“Would it be a safe bet to assume with you back in town that my brother is here, too?” He hands me a glass, his steely gaze monitoring my every minute movement. His vigilance is unnecessary. I have nothing to hide. When I decided to announce my return, I spoke to Tommy first so that I’d know how he wanted his own homecoming to unfold. I knew this exact situation was unavoidable.

“He’s here. I asked him to lay low until I had a chance to come by. He should be reaching out later today.”

His shoulders relax a fraction when he exhales—a movement that’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye but a surprising show of relief coming from him.

“I started to doubt you two were ever coming home. You planning to stick around, or is this a temporary visit?”

“I suppose that depends on a number of things.”

“One of those being me?”

I nod. “Obviously, you have the ultimate say on whether I’m welcome here.”

“You were never unwelcome, Sante. Hope you know that I didn’t want to send you away. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t have to explain anything. I get it. I needed a fresh start, and you had a lot on your plate. I’m not sitting on some kind of childish grudge. I told you, I’m not that person anymore.” Finally saying those words to him is a brick off my chest. I mean every bit of it, though that wasn’t always the case.

My cousin studies me, and I hate that I’m tempted to fidget. It’s amazing how we regress to former behaviors when around people present in our youth.

“Alright, then,” he finally responds. “If we don’t need to talk about why you left, how about you tell me what brought you back. I assume there’s a reason you’ve returned after four years away.”

“I’m back for Amelie Brooks.” A simple statement for a simple fact.

I note the tiniest twitch under his right eye. I’ve managed to surprise him.

“Lina Byrne’s little sister?” he asks in a curious tone.

“That’s right.”

“Did you two stay in contact while you were away?”

“No.” I don’t offer more of an explanation. I’ll give it if he asks, but I’m not one to spill my guts for no reason.

He nods slowly. “How’s she feel about you being back?”

“It’s … complicated.”

He takes a drink, his lips forming a thin line as he swallows. “I remember complicated. It fucking sucked, but it was worth it.”

“This is really fucking complicated,” I say into my glass before taking a healthy gulp.

He doesn’t attempt to hide the amusement in his eyes. He wants to know more but refrains from asking. “Anything I can do to help?”

Fuck, that’s what I was hoping he’d say.

“Yeah, actually.” I swirl my drink and measure my words carefully. “I know her family was mixed up in this thing called The Society, but I don’t know much about it. I’d like to learn more so I can understand her past better.”

He rubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw and lifts his gaze to the ceiling. “That was some pretty messed-up shit.”

I set down my drink and lean forward. “I want to know. Tell me everything.”