Chapter 12
Gabriel stared at the gold lighter.
V.B.
Vanessa Bellini.
“Where exactly did you find this, Ethan?” Gabriel asked, his voice completely calm, though a sharp edge of curiosity had returned to his eyes.
Ethan pointed to the massive rose bushes near the estate’s outer stone wall. “Right there. It was buried under the big red flowers.”
Gabriel took the lighter. He wiped the dirt away with his thumb.
“Vanessa lost this five years ago,” Gabriel murmured, mostly to himself. “She tore the house apart looking for it. She said it was a gift from her late mother.”
I frowned. “Why would it be buried in the garden?”
Gabriel looked at the rose bushes, then down at the lighter. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
“Because Leo buried it,” Gabriel laughed softly.
Mateo walked up behind us, putting his arms around my waist. “What’s funny?”
“My brother,” Gabriel smiled, tossing the lighter into the air and catching it. “Vanessa always hated Leo. She thought he was reckless. Five years ago, they had a massive argument on the patio. The next day, her prized lighter vanished. Leo swore he didn't take it.”
Mateo chuckled. “He always was a terrible liar.”
“He buried it to annoy her,” Gabriel said, shaking his head with a fond, wistful smile. “Even from the grave, my brother is still getting under her skin.”
Gabriel re-entered the house and tossed the gold lighter into the fireplace. It clattered against the ashes, useless and forgotten, exactly where Vanessa Bellini’s legacy belonged.
We sat down for dinner that night as a family.
There were no guests. There was no dress code.
Mateo wore a simple t-shirt, his scars visible but no longer a source of pain. Gabriel wore sweatpants, his arm resting comfortably in his sling.
And at the very head of the table, sitting on three stacked cushions so he could reach his plate, was Ethan.
He had his compass set right next to his water glass.
I looked around the table. I thought about the first night I had worked here, terrified of dropping a plate, terrified of Vanessa’s cruel glares, terrified of not being able to pay my rent.
Now, the man sitting at the head of the table was my son.
The man sitting next to me was the love of my life, returned from the dead.
And the terrifying Mafia boss was passing the mashed potatoes, laughing at a joke a seven-year-old had just told.
Gabriel raised his glass.
“To Mateo,” Gabriel said warmly. “The man who never stopped fighting for his way home.”
Mateo raised his glass of water, touching it to Gabriel’s wine glass.
“To Gabriel,” Mateo replied. “The brother who kept the door open.”
They both looked at me.
I smiled, raising my own glass. The diamond on my finger caught the light of the crystal chandelier, sparkling like a star.
“To family,” I said.
“To family,” they echoed.
Ethan took a massive bite of a dinner roll, completely content. He looked at the compass on the table, then up at his father.
“Daddy,” Ethan said with a full mouth. “Does the compass point to our new house now?”
Mateo reached over and ruffled Ethan’s hair.
May you like
“No, buddy,” Mateo smiled, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “The compass doesn't need to point anywhere anymore. We’re already exactly where we belong.”
The needle on the brass compass sat perfectly still. The storm had passed, the lies were buried, and for the first time in his life, my son knew exactly what it meant to be home.
