Luca’s POVI have never felt more useless in my entire life.I’ve built an empire from the ground up, made enemies kneel at my feet, and controlled situations most men wouldn’t dare touch. But none of that means anything right now. None of that can help me here.Matteo is lying in that damn hospital bed, pale and fragile, with wires and tubes keeping him tethered to life. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.I pace the length of the hospital room, my hands clenched into tight fists. I need to do something. Anything. I need to fix this. I need to take the pain away. But all I can do is watch my son struggle, waiting for a diagnosis that might rip him away from me.Sienna sits beside his bed, holding Matteo’s tiny hand in both of hers. She hasn’t moved in hours. Her usually bright eyes are dull, lined with exhaustion, but she refuses to let go. She strokes his fingers absently, whispering to him, even though he hasn’t been fully awake since this nightmare started.Every time I look at
Luca’s POVI don’t sleep that night.I sit in the hospital chair beside Matteo’s bed, staring at the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. Every breath he takes feels like a small victory, but I can’t shake the fear tightening around my ribs. I’ve always been a man who takes action—who fixes problems before they even have the chance to become threats.But this? This is a battle I don’t know how to fight.Sienna finally dozes off sometime after midnight, curled up in an awkward position in the chair beside me, her hand still clutching Matteo’s. I should tell her to go home, to get some real rest, but I already know she won’t. She won’t leave our son, and neither will I.The clock on the wall ticks away the hours, but I can’t focus on anything except the helplessness clawing at my insides.I hate this. I hate the waiting. I hate the unknown.And most of all, I hate the idea that I might not be able to protect my son from this.At some point, my phone vibrates in my pocket, breaking t
Sienna’s POVI’ve never known fear like this.Not even in the darkest moments of my life, not even when Luca and I almost lost each other. This fear is different. It’s suffocating, relentless, and no matter how much I try to push it down, it claws its way back up, wrapping around my heart like a vice.Matteo is sick.And no amount of love, no amount of strength, no amount of sheer willpower can change that.I sit on the edge of the hospital bed, my fingers gently stroking Matteo’s curls as he sleeps. His face is peaceful, too peaceful, as if his body has already surrendered to the exhaustion that the illness is forcing on him.Luca is pacing again.He’s been on the phone with Ethan and Dr. Caldwell all morning, trying to force the world to bend to his will. And I know he’s doing it because he has to—because it’s the only way he knows how to fight.But I also know he’s scared.Because even Luca Moretti, with all his power and influence, can’t just will this away.I close my eyes, inhal
Luca’s POVThere’s a distinct kind of helplessness that comes with watching your child suffer. It’s different from any other pain I’ve known. I’ve been through hell and back. I’ve seen men break under the weight of my fists, watched blood stain my hands more times than I can count. I’ve faced death, I’ve welcomed it, I’ve laughed in its face.But this?This is different.Because no matter how much power I have, no matter how many doctors I call, how many strings I pull, I can’t take this away from Matteo. I can’t fix this with my fists. I can’t kill this disease.And it’s driving me insane.Sienna is curled up beside Matteo’s hospital bed, her head resting on the mattress, her hand wrapped around his tiny fingers. She hasn’t moved in hours. I don’t think she’s even noticed me pacing the room like a caged animal.I don’t know how much more of this I can take.The doctors did what they had to do. They placed the feeding tube. They reassured us that Matteo would get the nutrients he need
Luca’s POVHope is a dangerous thing. It teases, it lingers, and when you reach for it, it slips away like smoke through your fingers. I’ve never trusted it. Not when I was a kid fighting to prove myself, not when I clawed my way to the top, and not even when I fell in love with Sienna.But now, sitting in this sterile hospital office, with Sienna gripping my hand so tightly that her nails dig into my skin, I have no choice but to let hope in—just a little.Dr. Caldwell leans forward, his expression unreadable. “We’ve found something.”The words drop into the silence like a stone into deep water.Sienna’s breath catches. “Something… good?”Dr. Caldwell hesitates just long enough to make my stomach clench. “Possibly. There’s a research team in Switzerland, led by Dr. Moreau, specializing in experimental mitochondrial gene therapy. Matteo meets the criteria for their trial.”Matteo.The name alone is enough to make my chest tighten. My son. My boy, whose small, fragile body has been fig
Sienna’s POVPacking should be simple.But when you’re boxing up your life in two suitcases, it becomes something else entirely. Every item I pick up feels like a choice between holding on and letting go.We leave for Switzerland in less than two weeks. Two weeks to prepare, to say goodbye, to brace ourselves for the unknown.I fold Matteo’s favorite blue onesie into his suitcase, running my fingers over the soft fabric. He’s outgrown it, but I can’t bring myself to leave it behind. He’s only two, and yet it feels like we’ve already lived a lifetime of struggles with him.Luca moves through the bedroom, focused and efficient. He’s always been like this—taking charge when everything feels chaotic. But I see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenches every time he zips up another bag.I can’t do this right now. If I stop to think, I’ll break.So I force myself to keep going, to keep folding, to keep moving.The door creaks open, and Alessandro peeks in, his little face full
Luca’s POVThe flight to Geneva is silent, but the tension sits thick in the air.Matteo sleeps in Sienna’s lap, his small body curled against her as if the warmth of her arms is the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. His breathing is soft but shallow, his tiny chest rising and falling with effort. Alessandro sits beside me, unusually quiet, his little hand wrapped in mine like he’s afraid to let go. Normally, he’d be bouncing in his seat, asking a thousand questions about the plane, the country, the new place we were going to—but not today.Today, the weight of the unknown is pressing down on all of us.Sienna hasn’t spoken in hours. She just keeps running her fingers through Matteo’s curls, her gaze distant, lost in thoughts I can’t reach. I know she’s terrified. So am I.But we don’t have the luxury of falling apart. Not yet.I squeeze her knee gently. “We’re almost there.”She nods without looking at me.The moment the wheels touch the runway, my chest tightens.We’re
Sienna’s POVDr. Laurent Moreau’s words echo in my head long after he leaves the room.“We have a plan.”It should be reassuring. It should feel like the lifeline I’ve been desperately waiting for.But hope is a dangerous thing.It lifts you up just to drop you from even greater heights.I glance at Matteo, his small body curled up in the hospital bed, his chest rising and falling with that same fragile rhythm that haunts me in my sleep. The beeping of the machines monitoring him is steady, but it feels like a countdown—each beep ticking away at the time we have to save him.Luca is quiet beside me, his fingers laced with mine, his grip firm but gentle. He hasn’t spoken much since we got here, but I can feel his tension through our joined hands.He’s terrified.Just like I am.Dr. Moreau returns an hour later with a team of doctors trailing behind him, each one carrying stacks of files, tablets, and research papers.“We’re going to run a few more tests,” he explains, flipping through
(Sienna’s POV)The house was alive with laughter, the scent of fresh flowers and warm food mingling in the air as the guests arrived one after another. It felt surreal—this moment, this day. A day that marked the beginning of something far greater than Luca and me. It was the start of a new legacy, a new generation.I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate lace on my white and gold dress. The fitted bodice hugged my waist, the flowy skirt cascading down to the floor in elegant waves. It was tradition to wear white for purity, for new beginnings, and today, everything felt pure.“Are you ready?” Luca’s voice came from behind me, deep and soothing.I turned, and there he was—my husband, the father of my children, the love of my life. He looked breathtaking in his custom-fitted navy-blue suit, the gold cufflinks matching the accents on my dress. His dark hair was styled to perfection, but it was his eyes—the way they softened when they met mine—that made my heart race.“As
(Sienna’s POV)The house was finally quiet. It was a fragile silence, the kind that came after hours of soothing newborn cries, calming restless toddlers, and making sure everything was set for the next day. I stood at the doorway of the nursery, my fingers gripping the frame as I watched my daughters sleeping soundly in their cribs.Elena and Isabella.It still felt surreal, even though I had spent the past eight weeks holding them, feeding them, memorizing every little detail about their tiny features. The gentle rise and fall of their chests, the way Isabella’s little fingers always curled around her sister’s when they were placed beside each other, the way Elena would turn her head in search of my voice.A soft smile tugged at my lips.It wasn’t just them that made my heart feel impossibly full—it was everything. The house, now brimming with life. The sound of Matteo and Alessandro’s giggles echoing through the halls. The way Luca looked at me with a depth of love that made me wea
(Luca's POV) Sienna was asleep.After more than fifteen hours of labor, screaming, crying, and a near bone-breaking grip on my hand, she had finally drifted into a well-earned rest. Her body was utterly exhausted, her face soft in slumber, strands of hair still sticking to her forehead.But me? I couldn’t sleep. Not even for a second.Because right in front of me, in the transparent bassinet beside Sienna’s hospital bed, lay our daughters.My daughters.I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. It didn’t feel real. How could it? One moment, it was just the two of us—just me and Sienna, figuring out life, navigating chaos, and now… now there were four of us.My heart clenched.They were so tiny. So fragile.One of them let out a small, soft sigh in her sleep, her tiny fingers twitching before settling against the soft pink blanket wrapped around her. Her sister lay beside her, her lips pursed slightly, looking just as peaceful.Matteo had arrived with Alessandro a few hours ago, and af
(Luca's POV) Time had never felt so slow and so fast at the same time.The past eight months had been a whirlwind. From setting up the nursery to attending doctor’s appointments, every single day had been a countdown to this moment. And now—now it was here.Sienna was in labor.And I was losing my goddamn mind.I had rehearsed this moment a thousand times. I had planned, prepared, and memorized every step of the process. But all of that went out the window the second Sienna gripped my arm and gasped, “Luca… my water just broke.”For a solid five seconds, I stared at her like a complete idiot.Then chaos erupted.“Okay—okay! We’re ready! We have the bag! We have the—where’s my phone?!” I patted down my pockets, my movements jerky and uncoordinated. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that I barely heard Sienna groan.“Luca,” she exhaled, gripping the kitchen counter as she breathed through a contraction. “Stop panicking.”“I’m not panicking,” I lied, my hands shaking as I reach
(Sienna's POV) The news of our twin girls spread like wildfire. By the time Luca and I had finished calling everyone in our immediate circle, our families had already told their friends, and somehow, I suspected half the neighborhood knew too.Luca’s mother had called again—twice—to ask if she could start planning the baby shower immediately. My own mother had sent me a list of name suggestions before I could even finish breakfast. Even Cassie had texted me with an absurd amount of baby girl outfits she wanted to buy.And through all of this, Luca looked like a man who had been hit by a freight train.“Are you okay?” I asked him as he slumped against the kitchen counter, staring at his phone.He let out a slow breath. “I just got a message from my uncle. He says congratulations, and that we should start looking into bulletproof windows for when the girls are teenagers.”I snorted. “He’s not wrong.”Luca groaned, rubbing his face. “Sienna, do you realize how much trouble I’m in?”I ra
(Luca’s POV)I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring at the ultrasound screen like a man who’d just had his entire world flipped upside down. Twin girls.Two.Jesus Christ.I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I tried to process the reality of it. One baby had already been enough to completely wreck me in the best possible way, but two? I was so f***ed.Sienna was watching me, her fingers squeezing mine, probably waiting for me to say something more profound than the string of curses I’d already let loose. But my mind was short-circuiting.Twin daughters.“Luca,” she murmured, her voice softer now, like she was worried about me.I shook myself out of the trance, blinking at her before looking back at the screen, where two tiny, indistinct shapes flickered with life. My daughters.I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with something dangerously close to tears. “They’re so small,” I rasped.Dr. Caldwell chuckled. “That’s because they’re only about ten weeks along. But I
(Sienna’s POV)I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers idly tracing the fabric of my nightgown. The past few months had been a whirlwind—recovery, adjusting back to normal life, and trying to find a sense of peace after everything we’d been through. Luca had been my rock, never leaving my side, always knowing exactly what I needed before I even said a word. And now, as the early morning light filtered through the curtains, I found myself staring down at the pregnancy test in my hands.Two lines.Two lines.I blinked. My breath hitched.No. This couldn’t be right.I grabbed another test from the drawer—one of the fancy digital ones. My hands shook as I followed the instructions, waiting the agonizing minutes for the result.“Pregnant. 3+ weeks.”A choked gasp left my lips. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.Pregnant.I pressed a hand to my stomach, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. We hadn’t been trying, not exactly, but we also hadn’t been preventing it. I
Luca's POV I never thought the sight of home would make my chest ache the way it did today. As the car rolled up the driveway, the massive wrought-iron gates slowly opening, I tightened my grip on Sienna’s hand.“We’re here, baby,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.Her head rested against the seat, exhaustion still etched into her delicate features, but when she lifted her gaze to meet mine, I saw something there—relief. Hope. A softness that had been missing for too long.She smiled, small but real. “Home,” she whispered, as if testing the word on her tongue.It had been months of uncertainty, months of fighting battles that neither of us had been prepared for. The long nights in the hospital, the painful procedures, the endless waiting for answers that never seemed to come fast enough. But we had made it through.And now, we were finally back where we belonged.The front door swung open before the driver even fully stopped the car. My mother rushed out first, wiping her ha
(Sienna’s POV)The hospital doors slid open, ushering in a crisp breeze that smelled like rain-soaked pavement. It was the scent of freedom, of normalcy, of the life we had fought so hard to return to. After what felt like an eternity inside these sterile white walls, we were finally walking out as a family again.Luca held Matteo in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to our son’s temple. Matteo had always been a light sleeper, but today, exhaustion had won, and he rested against his father’s chest, his small fingers curled into the fabric of Luca’s hoodie. Alessandro clutched my hand tightly, his grip firm as if he were afraid someone would try to pull us back inside. He had been so strong through all of this, stronger than any five-year-old should ever have to be.Outside, Dr. Caldwell and Dr. Moreau stood near the entrance, watching us go.“Remember,” Dr. Moreau said, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose, “his immune system is still delicate. Keep him away from crowded places for