~Gael~
~Gael~
My family in New York is still involved in the underworld, though we've slowly converted a lot of our businesses legit. I'm not sure Giovanni and Sebastian, who are currently heading the family, actually want to get out of it. After all, they were born in it. That's what they've known all their lives. As for me, I've known the outside of that world when my mother and grandmother raised me without the darkness. So I don't miss it.
I'm content living in Mayne and only traveling to New York whenever necessary. While I've already legitimized most of my businesses, I'm still tied up with some illegitimate ones because of my family's identity. I won't be able to wash my hands clean no matter what I do, that's the downside of being a De Luca.
But over the years, I made sure to keep my family safe. The last time we were in danger was before we got married, and that was a long time ago. I won't be making the same mistakes again, especially now that I have two kids that need my protection.
Giovanni brought Perry to his end years ago, and that led to blessings for me as I now have full control over the company that I changed the name to Black Pearl Holdings a few months later—a symbolic act of a new leaf turned over.
The weekend celebration of my birthday winds down around seven in the evening and everyone helps clean up the mess. They leave after we scheduled another get-together soon. My daughter cries when the Chos' left because Ashton and Sianna are her closest friends and she loves playing with them.
"Don't worry, we'll meet them again soon," I tell her, making her stop crying, rubbing her nose on my shirt as I carry her into the house.
"Can we get another puppy, Daddy?" Isla sniffles against my shoulder.
My jaw tightens at the memory of Honey who passed last year while she and Isla were taking a nap. Angela and I haven't decided whether we should get a new pup, but Isla has been wanting to have one recently after meeting a dog at the park the other month.
"Maybe one day," I mutter.
Now that the guests are gone, it's only us four at home. I check on my wife and son upstairs and found them in our bedroom. Angela's feeding the little sucker who's already half-asleep on the sofa.
"Mommy!" Isla calls and I calmly whisper to her, "River's sleeping. Let's stay quiet and let him rest. Okay?"
My daughter slaps her hands to her mouth and nods. "Mommy!" she whisper-yells, making me and Angela chuckle. She's such a cutie.
I sit next to my wife and press a kiss on her temple, glancing down at my baby boy, River, his mouth half-loose around his mother's nipple. When I reach for his hand, he continues to suck milk.
Good thing he's my son and needs to be breastfed. He's taking so much time with his mother's tits—more than Isla did when she was two months old.
Angela wipes Isla's face with her fingers and brushes her hair from her face. "Why did you cry?"
"The Chos' left," I reply, and my little drama queen daughter pouts her lips, looking like she's about to cry again.
"Aww… We're going to see them again very soon. Okay?"
Isla nods and then she takes my face into her small hands and says "Daddy, will you read me a bedtime story?"
"I'll do you one better, Jellybean. I'll tell you a story."
Her eyes widen and the pout is replaced with an adorable smile. She definitely takes after Angela like this. Isla loves stories just like her mother. "Really? Like a real prince and princess story?"
"Sure. A handsome prince. And guess what? His princess is an angel." I grin and Angela elbows me in the ribs.
My daughter beams and starts dancing excitedly with her arms going up and down, singing, "Daddy's telling me a story" repeatedly. She's so cute, my heart melts at the sight of her like this.
"Can you give her a bath?" Angela asks. "I'll put River down soon and then make us dinner, I'm hungry."
"Of course." I give my wife another kiss and Isla does the same.
While I get my daughter ready for bed and then read her a story, Angela puts our son in his crib—the same one Isla used when she was small, takes a shower, then goes downstairs to heat up some leftovers from earlier. Once my daughter falls asleep, I take a quick shower and join my wife in the kitchen.
She's chatting with Rick when I arrive. He nods and gives me a quick rundown regarding today's security and some businesses I tasked him with. Then he goes home to his wife in their house that's not far from ours, in a house and lot I bought for him a couple of years ago when he decided to get married to a local. In the same year we got married, I assigned Trigger back in New York to help my brother. He was much more needed there than in Mayne.
My security detail in Mayne is tight, headed by Rick and Roy—two people I trust with my life to take care of my family's safety when I'm not around.
I pull Angela into my arms as once again we're alone. With her back against my chest, I lay my chin on her shoulder and breathe her in. She smells a mixture of her own fragrant scent, baby powder, and of our two kids. "Thank you for today," I tell her because she deserves to be acknowledged and appreciated.
"Thank you too." She twists and kisses me on the lips.
I pour us each a glass of wine and brought our plates of chicken alfredo pasta that my wife has perfected in the first few months of our marriage to the living room. We have a stock of her milk in the fridge, ready for when River needs it in the morning. So she's taking the weekend off breastfeeding and enjoying wine with me. We have the baby monitor propped on the coffee table next to our glasses and we eat our dinner with the TV on for some background noise in a low volume setting.
The night is quiet and we're both starting to get tired an hour later, but we make no move and stay cuddled up on the sofa. Saturday evenings are our time together for some peace and quiet when our kids are asleep upstairs and we don't have work the next day. We relish the moments before River changes his sleeping routine that would affect ours too. But we'll be ready when that time comes.