My husband has eyes and ears all over this city. He has me followed 24/7. And the guards, they’re loyal to him. I’ve never been brave enough to test if any of them would help me. I know it would be pointless.

Then there’s the fact that Giovanni would never let the boys go. He’s breeding an army. Blood loyalty. He told me once in a drunken rampage that he needed more sons because sons would be loyal to him and him alone.

I pray that my boys grow up to be decent men. Whatever they end up having to do for my husband, for this family, I pray that they will know love. That they won’t lose their minds and become like their father. And the only way I can guarantee that is by sticking around. I need to stay.

I need to endure all of this, so that my boys can grow up knowing love. I have enough of it inside me for all of them. If I’m the only person to ever show them love, it will be enough. Because I love them more than myself, more than I ever thought possible.

I push to my feet, walk over to the bed, and start the process of making it. We have maids, but they’re not allowed in this room. This room is my responsibility. I have to take care of it. It’s Giovanni sanctuary. Honestly, at this point, I’m surprised I’m still allowed in here. It’s not like he needs me for anything. I’m not stupid. I know my husband’s desires are met elsewhere. The only time he seeks me out is when he’s decided it’s time for another child.

Chapter Seven

Present

“You’re running out of space,” Marcus says, shaking his head.

“There’s plenty of space, asshole.” I point to a spot on my right shoulder. “I want it here.”

“And why the broken chain? What’s it mean?” he asks.

Some of the tattoos that cover my body don’t mean shit. They’re just art. Things that I like. But there are more recent ones that have so much more meaning. Like my Eiffel Tower tattoo, or the triple nines that match the design on Cammi’s wrist.

“The broken chain symbolises breaking the curse,” I tell him. I’ve never really bought into Marcel’s claims that our family is cursed. I guess I don’t want to take any chances either, though.

I would never put my wife at risk, and the women who get involved with our family end up cursed. I’m not letting that shit touch Cammi. I will do anything to protect her, going to whatever lengths I can to break it.

“Curse? I thought you didn’t believe in that shit,” Marcus says, while drawing up the stencil for me.