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Remo tensed, and his expression became still in a way it never had. As if this was the revelation he’d been waiting for.
Remo was the strongest Capo there was. Without him the Camorra would still be a collection of idiots struggling for power—without him Las Vegas would still be in the hands of unworthy men. Remo was Las Vegas. Remo was the Camorra. Remo was a born leader.
A high-pitched wail rang out. Tension shot through my body at the unexpected sound and my head shot up, toward the source of the noise. A infant, a girl judging from her pink clothes and longer, slightly curled hair. Beside her a second baby woke up in his seat, a little boy with dark eyes, almost black. Remo’s eyes. My gaze darted between the boy and the girl, twins— both Remo’s children, no doubt. Savio inhaled sharply beside me. “Holy fuck. They are Remo’s.” Remo was a father. I was an uncle. Two new Falcones. Kiara would be ecstatic to have them in the mansion. I looked toward Serafina who
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She was tense, protective, ready to pounce if we dared to do something to her children. She needn’t worry. Never again.
“My God,” Leona whispered. “Whatever happened with the Outfit … it broke him.” I shook my head. “It won’t break him. It’ll make him stronger like it did his brothers. Dante and the Outfit created another enemy.”
Serafina stood in the gaming room with two babies on her arms, twins and without a doubt Remo’s kids. They had his eyes and hair, and the boy even his facial features. For a moment I was sure I was imagining things. Leona appeared behind me and her mouth dropped open. Definitely not my imagination. Remo was a father. They were the cutest little babies I’d ever seen. Those dark expressive eyes drew you in like a moth to the flame.
