Adamo shrugged. “She could have worked in one of our other establishments.”
I said, “For one, it would cause discord among the whores if one of them was known as a child-murderer. Second I don’t want her to cause any kind of trouble for Alessio in the future.”
“I get it,” Adamo mumbled. “But you are still pissed at our half-brother for killing our father, yet you took from Alessio the chance to kill his mother or meet her.”
Mentioning Growl around Remo was never a good idea. My personal feelings toward our half-brother bordered on indifferent but I didn’t want another fight between Remo and Adamo. Our mother had caused enough discord between them. I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. “She isn’t his mother. Kiara is. Alessio won’t ever find out he isn’t our blood.”
Remo downed his drink. “From this day on this kid is a Falcone. Anyone who dares telling him differently will have to deal with the consequences.”
I gave Remo a grateful smile. Lying to family wasn’t something Remo or I liked to do but this was for Alessio’s benefit. Finding out about his real mother would do nothing good, only bring pain.
“You’ll have to decide his birthday,” Remo reminded me.
If it was up to me, I’d have simply chosen a random date at the beginning of July. Alessio would never know that it might not be the day he was born, and in the long run of a life a few days more or less really weren’t of importance. Kiara, however, needed time to consider the possible dates.
“Do you know who his sperm donor is?” Savio asked.
Remo’s lips curled. “She went bareback with several customers in the past, there’s no telling who got her knocked up, and like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
“Could be important for genetic diseases,” Savio said.
“The whore who gave birth to him was a junkie. She consumed drugs when she was pregnant. The doctors warned us that it could have long-term effects, lead to Alessio having deficits concentrating, or have a penchant for drugs himself.”
Adamo sank deeper into his chair. He had returned from C.J. like promised, and hadn’t taken any drugs despite not being under supervision. Maybe he was on the right track. I hoped Kiara and I wouldn’t have to see Alessio through something similar in the future.
“But this was a good reminder that we still have business to attend to as well,” Remo said in a low voice, holding my gaze with the familiar look of hatred in his eyes.
“We do. Maybe it’s time.”
Adamo asked, worried, “You want to kill our mother?”
“She deserves death,” I said, trying to sound poised and calm despite the chaos in my chest.
“That’s not your decision alone,” Adamo said. “She’s mine and Savio’s mother as well.”
“I don’t care if they kill her. She’s dead to me anyway. But I don’t want to be involved in it. I don’t want to see her ever again, not dead or alive,” Savio muttered, filling his glass again.
Remo began pacing the room. Silence fell over us as we watched him, knowing he was close to an outburst. “She tried to kill us all, Adamo. She would still kill us if she got the chance. Sick or not, she’s dangerous. You weren’t there. Not really.”
“She isn’t the same woman as she was. You have no right to kill her without all of our consent,” Adamo insisted.
Remo leaned down, bringing his face close to Adamo’s. “Do you really think you know her? Don’t be naïve. You keep trusting the wrong people.”
Adamo jutted out his chin. I raised a hand before this could get out of control.
“We don’t have to decide it today. Right now, I have to help Kiara with Alessio, and your birthday is soon, Adamo. After that, we’ll have another discussion, and find a solution.”
“We won’t decide today,” Remo conceded, straightening. “But there is only one solution.”
Kiara rocked Alessio gently against her chest as we made our way to our bedroom. It was earlier than our usual bedtime, but Kiara hadn’t slept much and I not at all last night.
Surprise filled her face when she spotted the rollaway crib beside our bed.
“Remo and Serafina went out shopping for Alessio this morning. They got this and a few other things for the nursery.”
“I’ll have to thank them tomorrow,” Kiara said as she ran her fingers along the white crib. The inside was a soft blue with white clouds. “Where are we going to have his nursery?”
“I thought the room next door would make sense as long while he’s still young, and I reckon you want to have him sleep in our bedroom the first couple of weeks.”
Kiara gave me an apologetic smile. “I really do. Is that okay for you?”
I moved over to her, stroking her throat and peering down at the small baby sleeping against her chest. “Why wouldn’t it be? He needs us now. After what he’s experienced, he needs to learn trust, and I know having him here will make you happy.”