Mob Wife

Epilogue: The Final Chapter

* Katie Hopkins is fake y'all. She's gonna be mentioned towards the end of the chapter.

Mob Wife The Final Chapter

Luna rushed down the stairs with her bag on her shoulder, passing her little siblings as she searched through the large home for her father. Abruptly stopping in her tracks for someone who might have a clue, "Simone, did you see Daddy?" Luna questioned with a worried look on her face.

The little girl looked up at her sister with a nod, "Daddy's in the kitchen with Mommy and Juliano," the eight year old said, mentioning her older brother. Brooklyn swore Juliano was the last Vitale she'll push out, but not even three years after having him, she was pregnant again.

"Grazi," she said before dashing off to the kitchen. Seeing her Father stand by her Mother as the two talked, she interrupted their conversation, "Papà, I'm gonna be late," she spoke with slouched shoulders, "dobbiamo partire ora," we have to leave now.

Francesco looks over at her before glancing down at his watch, "abbiamo abbastanza tempo," he voiced for her to relax,  "non hai mangiato niente, quindi vieni a mangiare," pointing to a stool. we have enough time. you haven't eaten anything, so come and eat.

Luna almost stomps, "Papà, per favore. Non voglio fare tardi," with Francesco teaching her Italian as she grew up, she was fluent in it. Papà, please. I don't want to be late.

"Ora," he demanded, Luna removing her bag off her shoulder to sit at the stool. With her being in ballet, she was attempting to eat less because of how the other girls looked. So, times like this, getting stern over her eating was a thing. now.

Francesco wanted to pull her out of Ballet for that exact reason, not wanting her to hate how she looks, but she begged him not to. Making the deal that she'll take care of herself, Francesco said he'll let her continue on with her lessons.

"But, I ate already," she mumbled with a frown, Brooklyn passing her a plate with a turkey sandwich on it that had all the stuff Luna liked.

"I don't care," she looks at Brooklyn for help and Francesco notices, "she listens to what I tell her to do, too," seeing that his daughter was annoyed by his demands, wanting Luna to see that she wasn't the only one who ever he's spoken to like this.

Brooklyn smirks, "no, non lo faccio," no, I do not.

"Mhm," Francesco lightly rolls his eyes, "tell yourself whatever you need to believe."

Brooklyn leans on the counter a little, voicing to Luna, "you don't have to eat it all. I know you don't wanna feel stuffed while practicing."

Luna moved her hand to rest her head on her fist, "okay," she mumbled, taking a bite of her food.

"Are you excited for tonight?" Brooklyn asks.

Luna answers mid-chew, "a little," then looking over at her father, "but if I don't get to practice on time, I won't be able to perform, and all of this will be for nothing."

Francesco repeats, "ce la faremo," then looking over at his wife, "lei si comporta come te," we'll make it. she acts like you.

Brooklyn jaw drops and she turns to look back at him, "no, she's acting like you right now. Bossy and impatient."

Francesco points to himself in disbelief, "I'm impatient?" Brooklyn nodding her head in response.

As the years went on, the couple changed a lot, but in a good way. With Francesco getting older and more comfortable with sending someone else out to do the breaking of the bones, he's been able to raise his kids with Brooklyn. There were mess ups along the way as the two were far from perfect, but they got through it as a family; and learned to give one another the chance to improve as they dealt with four completely different personalities.