Page 171 of King of Roses

Occasionally her eyes would close, and I’d read her lips—my heaven, she’d whisper.

I cleared my throat, but she didn’t stop moving—she knew she didn’t need to. It was a way for me to clear some of the pressure building inside of my heart, threatening to spill down my cheeks. Each one created from my lifeblood.

Maestro shared the name I gave his uncle, my wife’s brother, and my best friend—along with his eyes, but something more.

Scarlett started noticing small things that had her maternal sensors on over-drive, like when he didn’t react to loud noises. Maestro would one day lose his ability to hear.

The news hit me with an impact like having my heart carved out. I knew the obstacles Elliott had faced. I hated that my son would one day face the same ones.

Our happy ending?

Scarlett, determined as ever, said our happily ever after was still on track. Our son was healthy and would live a full life—and he would adjust. She’d see to it.

So would I.

I had never allowed anyone to mess with Elliott. He had been, no matter whose blood he carried in his veins, my brother. I’d be damned if I allowed my son to be treated any differently. His brothers would see to it, as well.

His sister?

She was just as in love with him as Scarlett had been with Elliott. They shared a bond. But where Elliott’s life had come to an end much too soon, Scarlett knew our son’s life would continue the journey.

“All’s well,mio marito,” she had said to me. “And it will be.”

Even though Scarlett had told me we were out of the woods, we both knew we still had to watch out for Cerise. When I’d asked my wife about it, she seemed to hesitate, but she had answered with the truth she had to give. “The resentment there is strong. Cerise blames us for what happened to Livio, her family, and so will Livia, I think. But our family is safe now, Brando.”

“It better be,” I said to myself.

She stopped moving then, giving me the eye. “You don’t trust me?” she whispered.

“I do,” I said.

“Stop worrying, then,” she said, her eyes not wavering, but her posture softening. “I know how my heart feels. It’s settled.”

“Tell me how your heart feels about me.”

She grinned. “You are the blood rushing in and out of it. Our children are the beats.”

We stared at each other until the connection moved, then I pushed away from the wall, wrapping my arms around my life, holding both close to my heart—feeling the rib she stole from me fall into place, feeling complete.

Her hand caressed my back, and I could tell she was tracing the pattern of the tattoo. It had changed. I always knew it would. Always a method to the fucking madness running through my veins.

Half of my back was inked with the Fausti emblem, but the other half was only completed when a lioness connected with the half of the lion’s head, roses as a crown.

No king is complete without his queen—or else he’ll lose.

I won it all.

I pressed my lips to the top of my wife’s head, rubbing Maestro’s back, and we swayed gently to the soft music.

“You had to have the last word, didn’t you?” she whispered to me.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I always do, when it comes to you.Mine, Scarlett Rose Fausti. Always.”