An Heir's Empty Memorial

My best friend, Cassidy Donnelly, had cried herself into a stupor. When she called her husband, Ronan Fitzpatrick, from her mother's phone, he immediately berated her.

"It takes real talent for you two to piss Cillian off. He's the most loyal person I know."

"If you're such a good actress, maybe you should quit managing those bars and join Alessia on stage. Liliana doesn't like to be disturbed when she's eating, so stop calling."

"Call one more time, and I'll make sure no one from the Donnelly family can ever contact me again."

To Cillian and Ronan, Cassidy and I were just two jealous, melodramatic women. They didn't care that we had just lost the heirs to our families.

The De Lucas and the Donnellys all rushed to our side, worried sick about us.

But Cillian and Ronan were the only ones who didn't show.

On the day of the private memorial for our lost children, Cassidy made one last, desperate attempt. She tried to call Ronan, but by then, he had blocked everyone even remotely connected to her.

I called Cillian over a dozen times before he finally picked up.

"It's not your due date yet, why are you calling again? I just got Liliana to sleep, and now you've woken her up. When are you going to stop acting like a spoiled Principessa?"

I forced myself to remain calm. "It's our son's memorial service today. And our nephew's. I told you and Ronan. Get over here now."

That infuriated him. "Alessia, what line won't you cross for your ridiculous need for control? You keep cursing our child. Don't you think that's twisted?"

Rage choked the words in my throat.

Cassidy snatched the phone from my hand and snarled, "No mother would ever joke about her own child! The service is at the family cemetery. If you and Ronan have an ounce of doubt, get your asses over here and see for yourselves!"