I had never been a son in this house.I had been a soldier. A weapon. The heir to a dynasty that had no room for weakness.And tonight, as I sat across from my father in his private study, I realized that hadn’t changed. Not really. The difference was that now, I wasn’t just following his lead. I was setting my own course.The study was dimly lit, lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes that no one had touched in years. A single glass of whiskey sat untouched on the desk in front of him, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the fireplace.He was waiting for me to speak first.I didn’t.I had spent my entire life learning how to read his silence. I wasn’t about to fill it just to make him comfortable.Finally, he sighed, tapping his fingers against the desk. “You surprised me tonight.”I raised a brow. “Not an easy thing to do.”A flicker of amusement passed through his expression before it was gone. “No, it isn’t.” He leaned back in his chair, studying me. “You
The air in the Russo estate was suffocating.Tension dripped from the walls like poison, seeping into every breath, every glance, every unspoken word. It had been days since that disastrous dinner, since the truth about our families had been ripped open like a wound, raw and bleeding.Luca hadn’t spoken to me since.I hated the silence.Hated the way he looked at me like I was another betrayal he hadn’t seen coming.Hated the way my mother walked around like a ghost, burdened by the weight of her choices.Most of all, I hated the way Matteo Russo still sat in his goddamn study, untouched by the chaos he’d created.I stood outside the heavy oak door, my heart hammering. It wasn’t fear keeping me frozen—it was anger. A slow-burning rage that had been festering for years, buried beneath the surface, ignored for too long.Not anymore.I didn’t bother knocking.The door slammed against the wall as I strode inside, my pulse roaring in my ears. Matteo was seated behind his desk, sipping an e
The estate was quieter than I’d ever heard it.Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The suffocating kind. The kind that crawled under your skin, wrapped around your throat, and squeezed.I’d spent my whole life in this house, but for the first time, it felt foreign.Like I didn’t belong here anymore.Like I never had.I sat in the backyard, the cool night air pressing against my skin. My knuckles were bruised, my body aching from the fight with Matteo’s men a few nights ago, but the pain didn’t matter. Not when my head was still a fucking mess.Sienna’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in my mind.“My father owed Matteo a debt.”“And you knew.”She hadn’t lied. Not exactly. But she hadn’t told me either.And that was worse.It was the same old story, wasn’t it? My whole damn life, people had been making decisions for me. Twisting the truth. Hiding things. My father had done it. Matteo had done it. And now Sienna, too.It didn’t matter why she had kept it from me.All that mattered was that she
The Russo estate had never felt like home.Not in the beginning, when I’d been dragged into this world against my will. Not in the middle, when I started to understand the rules of the game. And certainly not now, after everything had come crashing down.It was just a house. A beautiful, sprawling, bloodstained house.But as I stood in the grand hall, staring at the heavy oak doors, my heart pounded like I was about to step into a battlefield.Because in a way, I was.I had spent the past few days waiting. Waiting for Luca to come to me. Waiting for the weight of everything to settle. Waiting for the storm to pass.But it hadn’t.And it wouldn’t.Not unless I faced it head-on.Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and pushed the doors open.Luca was inside, sitting in one of the chairs near the fireplace, his elbows resting on his knees. The dim light cast shadows over his sharp features, but his eyes—the eyes that had always seen through me—locked onto mine the second I entere
The Russo estate had seen its fair share of bloodshed, but the tension inside these walls now felt different. This wasn’t about territory or money or power. This was personal.I stood outside my father’s office, the heavy wooden door looming in front of me like a barricade between my past and my future. I had spent my whole life walking in and out of this room, always under his shadow, always second-guessing if I would ever be enough.But this time, I wasn’t a child seeking approval.This time, I was here to end it.I pushed the door open without knocking.Matteo Russo sat behind his massive desk, a cigar smoldering in the ashtray beside him. He didn’t even look up.“I was wondering when you’d show your face.” His voice was calm, measured. Like he hadn’t spent years turning my life into a game of survival.I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. “You don’t seem too concerned about what just happened.”Finally, he lifted his gaze, dark eyes meeting mine with that same unreadable
The second our car pulled up to the grand entrance of the Ritz Paris, my breath caught in my throat.It was like stepping into a dream.Golden light spilled onto the cobblestone streets, shimmering through the delicate iron balconies that lined the Haussmann-style buildings. The scent of fresh croissants and something floral—jasmine, maybe—drifted in the evening air. I could hear the hum of soft French conversations from a nearby café, the gentle clinking of wine glasses, and the occasional laughter that reminded me why Paris was called the city of love.But more than the city, it was this. Us. Luca’s hand was warm around mine, his fingers laced so tightly between mine that it felt like a promise.A promise that after everything we had endured—after the secrets, the betrayals, the near destruction of both our lives—we had earned this.“First time in Paris?” The doorman smiled as he opened the car door for us.Luca stepped out first, then reached back for me, pulling me into his side e
Paris was different at night.The streets were alive in a way that felt almost electric—cobblestone paths glistening under the golden streetlights, the air humming with soft laughter, distant music, and the occasional clink of champagne glasses from the restaurants lining the Seine.And right now, walking hand in hand with Sienna, I had never felt so… light.The past year had been a storm, and we had barely come out of it alive. But here, in Paris, with her fingers laced between mine, with no threats looming over our heads, no debt, no fights, no fear… it felt like we were finally breathing.Sienna let out a soft laugh, tugging on my hand as she pulled me toward a small, hidden alleyway. “Come on, let’s go this way.”I raised an eyebrow. “You do realize this is how people get kidnapped in movies, right?”She shot me a playful glare. “You’re literally the scariest man in this city. I think I’ll be fine.”I smirked but let her lead me deeper into the alley. It opened into a tiny courtya
I woke up to the sound of steady breathing and the warmth of Luca’s body pressed against mine. The soft glow of the Paris skyline seeped through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing our hotel room in a golden hue.For a moment, I just existed in the quiet.No chaos. No fear. No past clawing at my heels.Just the rhythmic rise and fall of Luca’s chest beneath my hand, the weight of his arm draped lazily over my waist, and the feeling of absolute safety wrapped around me like a second skin.It felt unreal.Paris had always been a fantasy, a faraway dream I never thought I’d see up close. But waking up here, wrapped up in him, felt like something more—like a new beginning.Luca stirred beside me, his lips ghosting over my shoulder before he let out a low, sleep-roughened groan. “You’re staring at me.”I smiled. “You always know.”His grip on my waist tightened as he buried his face in my neck, his voice muffled. “Because you never stop.”I laughed softly, brushing my fingers through his
(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