CHAPTER 3 • SHADOWS OF THE PAST.

~Amara.

Two years later.

I leaned over the stainless-steel counter of my small but handy kitchen, my hands busy kneading dough to make pancakes in time for the restaurant's evening rush while the redhead twins—my little miracles, my pride—chattered about school. Their laughter was light and pure. It was the most pleasing sound I'd heard for the last two years of my life, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

"Mommy! Look what I drew!" Lucia yelled, waving up a sheet of paper with crayons.

I smiled, wiping my flour-dusted hands on my apron and surveyed her comic drawing of her, myself, and her brother holding hands. "Those are amazing, baby. Just keep it up, and you'll earn an A from your teacher," I cooed and spotted my son, Luca, making it to the top of the kitchen stool to shoot a mystery make-believe alien with his automatic pistol—from the corner of my eyes.

"Get down from there, Luca!!" I ordered sharply, and he pouted and sat back down on the stool.

Luca and Lucia were Nero's children, and they were overly intelligent with an IQ of 98%. By the age of two, they could make fluent sentences to the amazement of me and everyone.

After that night two years ago, I had gotten the money for my services to the Mafia God and paid for Luca's full treatment and gotten a bone marrow transplant.

Luca made a speedy recovery and soon was out of the hospital. Soon enough, I was preparing our papers and passports to leave the country and start all over again in New York City. I got news that the Skyes were on our tail, so he hastened our escape plan, but then an hour after our plane took off, Luca developed a complication and died before the pilot could make a detour back to land.

At the news of Luca's death, I was so distraught that I tried throwing myself off the plane. The hostesses were left with no option but to sedate me. I woke up in a hospital to the face of a plain-faced nurse telling me that I had a set of twins growing in me.

I was pregnant with Nero De Santoro's twins.

The life I carried in me spurred me on to keep living, so I built a restaurant from scratch with the money I still had left in New York City and started life afresh when they were born.

I named the boy Luca after my brother. The only thing my kids had to identify them as twins were their height and the colour of their hair. Lucia was a spitting image of me, and Luca could have been a mini version of Nero.

At the time, I thought of telling him about his kids. But something held me back. I still dyed my hair black, and so Nero might as well dismiss me as one of the opportunist females who claimed their bastards as his simply because they warmed his bed once.

And even if he didn't acknowledge his children, I would never let him raise my kids. I knew firsthand how dangerous his life as a Mafia El-capo was, and I had sworn to give Luca and Lucia the most normal life any kid could have.

Once Luca had asked me about his father, and I told him his father was better off without a family because he had a lot of enemies who wouldn't think twice to hurt him or his sister to gain leverage against him.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist for the tenth time. Almost five in the afternoon. Soon, the rush of the restaurant would begin, and I would have to leave the restaurant to my manager so I could catch up to my second job as a launderette. I was about to step out back to prep the evening menu when the door slammed open, making the twins squeal.

"Felix!"

They chorused. I smiled, watching Luca give him deadly punches to the leg that Felix feigned to collapse under. Lucia waved her arm in the air so he could swing her in the air.

Felix was my 25-year-old, 5'7 dark-haired restaurant manager. A real charmer for both women and children alike. He made calf's eyes at me and gave me a peck on the cheek. I gave him a bright smile, and he blushed pink. Felix had feelings for me that I pretended not to notice.

He efficiently donned an apron and turned on the microwave to warm it.

"A real busy bird, you are… Amara."

I scowled at him. "Am I that obvious?"

Business in New York City was good. Sales were more than off the roof. Most of my customers were lecherous men who wanted to watch the way my hips swung as I walked and fantasize about flirting with me—a Latina beauty—into bed. While I humoured them by wearing a few revealing dresses, I never led them on into thinking they had a chance at a relationship with me.

That chapter of my life was closed; my main purpose in life now was to care for my kids by giving them the very best. That was why I worked three jobs.

The bell chimed again. Both our eyes instinctively flew to the clock. 5:00 on the dot. Felix gave a mock groan and took off his apron.

"Here they come."

I smiled at this, slapping his hand away from my bowl of steaming pancakes.

He was back in no time with a frown.

"Some people are looking for you, Amara, and just so you know, I dislike the look of them."

My brows furrowed. Who would be looking for me and why?

I took off my apron and came out of the kitchen. The sight that met my eyes had me retracing my steps into the kitchen. I tried to control my panic, but I knew Felix saw it in my eyes.

"Whatever happens, Felix. Don’t let Luca and Lucia out of your sight. They mustn't leave this kitchen."

Felix nodded and pulled Lucia into his arms.

Steeling myself, I went out again.

Celestina, my foster mum, saw me this time and waved me over to the booth where she and her daughter, Silvana, were seated.

How in Hades have they found me?

The sight of them lifted the barriers I'd put on all that bad memories they had put me through. I instinctively looked at the corners of the restaurant for the sight of any spiders.

I wasn't in the least bit happy to see them.

Silvana hissed when I slid into a chair across from them.

"Damn, the year's been kind to you," she drawled, her jealous eyes trained on my body.

"What are you doing here?" I managed breathlessly. "How did you find me?"

"Uh-huh… Aren't you glad to see your long-lost family?" Silvana chirped, throwing an arm around Celestina. "We missed you, didn't we, mum?"

"Like hell you did." I muttered.

I swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile. "I don't want you here. I’m busy. This is a restaurant, not a meeting room."

Celestina's loathing smile wiped, and she leaned forward, baring her teeth at me. I felt that old, familiar surge of danger I had thought I left behind in Italy.

"You ungrateful scum. Where's that parasite brother of yours? You had the nerve to run away when Nico had plans for your hand in marriage. Not that it made any difference because my daughter, Silvana—who is prettier and more deserving in more ways than one—wanted to be his wife too. She seduced him one night, and voila! She was his wife. But, my baby, you can't blame her. Obviously the old coot still couldn't function in bed, so can you blame her for seeking warmth in the arms of his eldest son? He found out and threw her out. All this because of you. If you had married him, all this would have been avoided. And now this business with Nero De Santoro."

My pulse quickened.

"What business?"

Josephine smirked and lit a cigarette.

"Don’t play games with us. We know what you did to get your ailing brother some treatment. That money… the one million dollars you made off Nero De Santoro? It belongs to mum and I now. You’ll hand it over."

My heart thumped painfully against my ribs. That money… the one million dollars Nero had given me years ago. Every cent of it had gone to securing a safe life for Luca before he died, to paying for his hospital bills, and building a life for my twins here, far away from the clutches of people like Milo Skyes and his family. The rest of the money I had deposited in a trust fund for my children's college education. Only them could access it.

"Amara." Celestina sighed dramatically. "You had better cooperate. We raised you selflessly for eight years. We deserve a share of the money. Do you know how much we spent to track you down?"

I kneaded my forehead to stall a coming migraine.

"I don't have it," I said, my voice trembling but hardening with each word. "And even if I did, you’ll never get it."

Silvana shrieked to her feet. "She's lying, mum!"

Celestina gave me a sly grin. "You know, you really surprised me, Amara. You always acted innocent, but I always saw who you really were. A covetous, gold-digging bitch."

Silvana, breathing hard, spat on me. "Nero De Santoro? The Mafia God? Really? Just how good was your cunt that he offered you a million motherfucking dollars?"

I gave her a resounding whack on the face. "I've outgrown the kid you're used to maltreating, Silvana. Deal with it."

Silvana looked at her mum for help, but Celestina must have seen the fire glowing in my eyes and refrained from doing anything rash.

A tear slid down Silvana's face.

"You better hope nothing happens to my father, if not—"

"Milo? What has he got to do with this?" I asked, surprised.

"Bastardo!!" Celestina spat in Italian. "Nero De Santoro has been looking for you all over for two years. The whole of Italy knows he's on the hunt for you. And now he holds Milo captive to torture him with the belief that Milo knows where you're holed up in."

I took a trembling breath in and went pale. This couldn't be happening.

I was just about to say something when Felix ran up to me. His face chalky white as he drew me away to whisper into my ear.

"Something's happened to Luca. He had trouble breathing and suddenly collapsed."

I grabbed my hair at the roots and pulled. My whole body had gone numb. My face was even paler than Felix's now.

"What did you say?"

I whispered. Without waiting for an answer, I ran into the kitchen, ignoring the shrieks of the two people who loved to see me miserable.

There on the floor, Luca's tiny body was sprawled on the floor. I ran to him.

"Luca? Oh my baby…" I whimpered and picked him up.

"We've got to go to the hospital," Felix said, a note of urgency in his voice. I turned to find Lucia's unconscious body in his arms. I ran to him.

"I think she fainted too."

I covered my mouth to stifle the sob in my throat. "Oh my God, what's happening?"

I was fully panicked now.

"But they… they were fully… healthy when I left them… Did you give them something?"

"No, I didn't, Amara."

We were dashing out the back door and boarded a cab to the hospital.

"Help!!! Help!!!" I shrieked as soon as the cab pulled up in front of the hospital, and soon enough orderlies ran out and took the kids from our hands, rattling off questions that I tried my best to answer as well as I could.

The children were immediately admitted into the ICU, leaving Felix and I pacing the room.

I suddenly sat down, buried my face in my hands, and began to sob.

My imagination ran wild. A feeling of déjà vu swept through me.

Felix knelt in front of me and raised my tear-streaked face.

"If anything happens to them... I'll kill myself. I swear… I'll jump off this hospital's roof," I stammered out, and Felix hugged me.

"Don't say that. The kids will be fine. After all, they've got you as a mum."

I nodded, burying my face in his shoulder to sob quietly.

At that moment, a doctor rushed towards us. We both ran to him, tears filling my eyes.

"Family of the patient?"

I nodded. "I'm the kids' mother."

He nodded and went on to explain. My children had an early bout of Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. It was in the early stage, and if treatment was started immediately, they had an 80% chance of pulling through.

This can't be happening, I muttered to myself. The same disease that had claimed my brother had come for my children.

I couldn't lose my children. They were all I had—everything to me.

I turned to Felix.

"Keep an eye on them, Felix. I have to take care of something."

I'll have to go through hell before I'll lose my children.

He was the last person I'll go to for help, and I've sworn he'll never know of his children's existence, but if my children died because of my stubbornness, I'll never forgive myself, I thought, breaking into a run.

If anyone had the resources to save my kids, it was my children's father, and my children's father was none other than —

Nero De Santoro.