Romeo The Mafia Casanova

Eden’s [POV]Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Then: One year later”Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Naz! Happy birthday to you!” the whole family sang to our son, who was growing at a rapid speed.

I blinked, and he was turning three years old, reminding me more of his father day after day. He was the cutest, most kind-hearted little person I’d ever met. Everyone was obsessed with him, especially his grandparents.

Although my father was a made man, you wouldn’t think so if you saw him with his grandson. Don’t get me started on Tristian’s mother.

She babysat every opportunity she could get, often scheduling things for me like a massage or a day at the spa just to have some alone time with Naz.

I welcomed the love they brought into our son’s world.

“Mama!” Naz exclaimed, kissing my face, getting cake frosting all over my cheeks.

I happily finished cleaning him up before I searched around the room, finding his father at the bar, serving himself a drink.

Shit. I thought we talked about this, Tristian.

“I’ll take him.” Tristian’s mom grabbed Naz out of my arms. “Go handle your husband,” she announced, catching me off guard.

I didn’t respond, too focused on the task at hand. All I thought about was how I was going to handle this in front of all these people. It was getting harder to hide this side of Tristian that no one was supposed to know about. At least that was what I thought, but there was his mother proving me wrong.

“Tristian,” I muttered under my breath, bringing his gaze to mine. “I thought you weren’t going to drink today. You promised, remember?”

He didn’t hesitate in his brute reply, “You promised a lot of things too, Eden. In front of God, remember?”

He tilted the rest of the drink back, the large solitary ice cube bumping against his lips before he wiped them with the back of his hand in one familiar movement.

I shook my head, not understanding. This was what my husband had become, throwing jabs at me every chance he got. Most of the time, I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about because he was belligerently drunk. What did he need to get drunk for when, according to him in public, he had a perfect life?

I opened my mouth to respond, though I caught myself when I followed his curt nod behind me. In one swift turn, I was locking eyes with his brother, who was greeting a few associates by the door.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I spoke the truth, facing Tristian again. “You’re drinking because Romeo showed up to his nephew’s third birthday party? How old are you right now? You’re acting like a child.”

He was in my face in a split second, his eyes full of rage. “Did you invite him?”

I stepped back, placing my hand on his chest to steady my composure. He was throwing me all out of whack. “I did the invitations with your mother. She knows who we need to invite. God forbid I forget one important person and start a war with the families. She must have invited him.”

“Then, I’ll need to take it up with my mother.”

“How about you take it up with your wife? You said you weren’t going to drink today, and here you are standing at the bar, fixing yourself another whiskey on the rocks. It’s your son’s birthday. Can you behave yourself? We have videographers and photographers taking footage of today. The last thing I want is for Naz to look back on the memories only to see his father hammered.”

As soon as the last word left my mouth, Tristian added more whiskey to his drink, eyes locked on me the entire time. He lifted his drink and gulped it down in one swig. Slamming the glass on the bar when he was done.

“It’s one drink,” he argued, already serving himself another.

It was two going on three, all within five minutes.

I couldn’t help myself; I wasn’t going to let him ruin this for Naz. I snatched the bottle out of his hand, only to have him come at me. Before he was able to grab my arm, the person I least expected stepped in between us.

Placing his hand on his brother’s chest, Romeo interrupted, “Is there a problem?”

Tristian didn’t miss a beat, spewing, “Yeah. You.”

“Good to see you too, Tristian.”

“I suggest you take your hand off me and run along to find one of your whores for the night. My wife and I were having a private conversation, so mind your own fucking business.”

Romeo cocked his head to the side, and I stood there, just shaking mine.

How had we come to this?

“Looked more like an argument to me,” Romeo stated flatly, unfazed by the temper Tristian had developed.

His fuse was getting shorter as the days were becoming longer.

Romeo declared battle, countering, “I’m not leaving unless Eden tells me to.”

Tristian glared at him. “Of course, always have to be the hero, don’t you, dear brother?” He shoved his arm off his chest. “Get the fuck out of my face before I-”

“Boys!” their mother interjected, tearing apart the blatant standoff. “Enough.” She grabbed Tristian’s shoulder, handing him Naz. “Look at your boy. Now be the man I raised you to be and celebrate the day with your son.”

Tristian passed Naz over to me, pompously walking away without once looking back.

“How long have you known?” I questioned their mom, bringing both her and Romeo’s worried stares over to me.

“A mother knows everything. You’ll learn that with Naz,” she reaffirmed, peering from my gaze to her son’s. “Please make sure your brother stays in line. If your father sees him disrespecting the family, it won’t be pretty, and I don’t want that for Tristian.”

Romeo gave a grim nod. “Neither do I.”

She smiled lovingly, kissed his cheek, and strode away.

I looked down at the ground, not wanting to meet Romeo’s intense gaze but feeling him take us in with an expression I couldn’t quite place.

“Uncle Romeo,” Naz greeted, throwing his body into his arms. He wrapped his arms around his neck and hugged him close to his body.

It warmed my heart, to see that our complicated relationship didn’t affect his love for my son. I hadn’t seen Romeo much in the last year, although I knew anytime Naz was with his parents, he would spend time with him in their home. It was enough to make an impression on Naz; he never chooses anyone over me.

“Hey,” I said when he caught me staring at them.

Romeo didn’t waver, asking, “How long has he been this bad?”

Not surprising me in the least. Romeo

She knew what I was talking about, but still, she tried to cover for him. “He’s fine. We’re fine.”

I called her out, she was trembling, and we promised no lies. “You know you can’t lie to me, right?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

“Funny request coming from you.”

“I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“No? Just break up our fight then?”

“I thought everything was fine.” I smiled, playing coy. “He’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Can I please have my son?” She reached for Naz.

“No.” I held him back. “He’s good with me.”

“Naz, come to Mommy.”

He leaned his head on my chest, wrapping his arms harder around my neck. She noticed who he wanted to stay with, and I felt a sense of power that he chose me over her.

“Fine.” With a stern glare in my direction, she made her way outside, following after Tristian, I assumed.

I was long past the jealousy. Besides, I held her son firmly in my arms and the necklace I gave her last year for her birthday hung firmly around her neck.

I was still in her heart, and that was good enough for me.

The day went on with normal festivities; we ate, we drank, and Tristian didn’t leave Eden’s side. Later, after Naz was tucked away asleep in his bed. Tristian decided he was going to bring everyone’s attention over to him.

Everything stopped.

Everything.

My breathing hitched; I swear to God, my heart stopped beating in my chest, only for a second. A surge of panic flooded my body, my mind, and my soul at precisely the moment my heart started beating again.

Louder and harder in my chest.

Eden looked over at him, eyes wide and full of fear. “Tristian,” she pleaded in a hoarse tone. She cleared her throat and begged him to stop with that look in her eyes.

The one I recognized; she’d shown them to me several times over the years.

He didn’t even get it. He couldn’t read her at all, not like I could. Or maybe he did, and he simply wanted to hurt her, fully aware he’d be hurting me too.

Two birds, one fucking stone.

“You promised, don’t do this,” she added with the same desperation in her voice.

Tristian’s smile beamed with resentment, right down to Eden. It was obvious he was drunk as shit and couldn’t care less about the person he’d sworn to love and protect.

At first, it was like a movie. When you knew something bad was about to happen, the anticipation of knowing what was coming was stronger than the ability to stop it.

I couldn’t stop it. And I couldn’t stop this.

His hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and his fingers brushed down her cheek. “I just want to tell our friends and family who the woman I married truly is.”

Aw hell, which was exactly where everything ended up going that night.