LucaContemplating my life is not a task I like to take part in. But here I sit, five tumblers deep, as I assess every fuck up I've made since Emma came back to me.I love the girl so profoundly that my behaviour stems from fear of losing her for a second time, yet this time, it is me who is making the decisions; it's me who is pushing her away.I can't believe I hurt her as I did in the kitchen. I can't believe I allowed that insidious side my father nurtured to take over and cause her harm.Her, of all fucking people.Why must I keep making these mistakes?Why can't I treat her as I always did when we were younger?Can she even love me after seeing the monster I've indeed become?These are the things I contemplate in my alcohol-induced haze.Emma never resurfaced from Niko's room, and though I could have barged in when the doctor let himself out, I knew it was the wrong thing to do.So instead, I stood in the darkness of the unlit hall, waiting for her to leave the room, hoping that
"Your mother warned me that you seemed off the other night, but I didn't want to admit that perhaps this takeover has put too much on your shoulders too quickly. But this," he bellows, stabbing his pointer finger into his phone. "This is very, very disappointing.""I'm sure it is, father.""I never raised you to be this type of man," he adds with a fist on the desk."We sell women to the highest fucking bidder; we hurt women every day of our lives. Force them to uproot everything they know, to lose their families and dreams and aspirations to sell them to the next man, one that probably has a weird ass kink that the girl has never even heard of yet a few measly marks on my wife's neck is too much for you to handle?" I scoff. "Oh yeah, besides that, you never taught me to lay my hands on a woman.""We sell women to men that are vetted. They are safe, fed, looked after," he shakes his head. "I have a team checking on each girl that passes through our hands at least once every few months
EmmaI woke up from a restless night's sleep to face a new day with a fresh perspective. Throughout the night, I had been nestled between Bianca and Niko on his bed whilst cuddling Bianca, but in the morning, I turned to look at Niko.He was still clearly in pain, his abdomen showing worsening signs with mottled purple hues. Despite the doctor's miraculous revelation that nothing was broken, Niko was seriously bruised, and that coincided with his lack of sleep overnight.I spent some time simply observing his breathing, silently contemplating how to best care for him. And though I lay there promising myself not to think about the events of last night, my mind wandered. Had my behaviour triggered Luca's response just as much as his triggered mine in the kitchen?It feels as if we've been conditioned to tiptoe around one another for fear we'll lose one another again, and I know that my father dislikes that I was called home to fulfil his promise. So, are we exasperating the problems r
The mafia business follows mafia protocols. Luca obviously upset his father enough to provoke this reaction from him. Besides, I'm not sure I want to argue with him after he's lost an evidentially large amount of blood.I pour us both a drink, passing one tumbler to him as he assesses me with hooded eyes. I have no clue what he's thinking right now, and for once, I see the pain etched on his handsome face. The liquid burns my throat as I swallow the tumbler full, but after the last few days, I feel that I need something to steady me and look at his arm.I'm not squeamish, not really, but I was right. After ripping his shirt open, I note his shoulder is a bloody mess with flesh sticking out of a close proximity shot from what I can only presume is a pistol. Blood trickles out the hole and down across his skin as I assess him flexing the hole."You need a doctor; it's still inside—," I note as the gold bullet shines back at me and the blood surrounding it dribbles down onto his peck."
LucaLeaning forward, I catch Emma's neck and hold her still before me. She's apologising, which irks me, so I tell her so with a deep voice of control."You have nothing to apologise for, bambina.""I hit you," she sighs, running her fingertip over the slight swelling around my eye.She did hit me, and rightly so. I was acting manic; I wasn't allowing her space. I refused to let her leave and all that after I wrongly accused her of cheating which I still need to investigate who exactly sent me those damn fucking images.They say pictures tell a thousand words; well, perhaps they conceal a thousand truths.I can completely accept that she felt backed into a corner, and I'm glad she raised her back to me in a way.The fact she can stand up to me is something our relationship obviously needs, but I don't wish to push her so close to the edge to cause her to strike out.I want to be better; I intend to be better. I don't know how, but I will strive to be the man she deserves—if she lets
Niko opens the office door. He moves stiffly as he swings the door to reveal my father and mother. Neither says a word to me or looks my way. He just opens his palm to offer my parents into my office in cold silence.Emma instantly begins to move from my lap, so I hold her back, enabling her to turn to face them, silently stipulating that she stays put.This irks both Niko and my father, but I pay no mind to their opinions."Mother... father.""Good evening," my mother greets us, walking in with a delicate smile to sit opposite us.Her gaze wavers as she sees the screwed-up gauze and bullet sitting proudly for her to look at. Her gaze searches for my father with contempt, and it's then I realise my father obviously wasn't as forthcoming with his role in my injury as he should have been."Are you okay?" My mother asks me."Just fine; what are you doing here?" I grit out. I can't quite raise my gaze to my father's but glance at him, moving to stand beside my mother."I'm sorry, son. I s
Emma"We should leave. It would be best if you didn't stay with him," Bianca notes unhappily as Niko finishes replaying my utterly private conversation in a condensed form that suits him.Luca's parents have just left, and though I feel as if Luca and I had a breakthrough that was much needed and is something I honestly want to explore more, I decided to come back to Niko's room to give myself time to recuperate and also keep the distance that perhaps is the right course of action for the pair of us at the moment.Niko is hissing unhappily in his weapons closet, gathering a few articles of clothing that I presume he intends to change into for bed. The evening is upon us, and despite not having eaten dinner yet—even though I can smell it cooking, I'm ready to fall into a mattress to sleep.Apparently, Niko is done with work today, and he's adamant that he should probably find another room to sleep in.Of course, I told him not to be silly. This is his room, not mine, so it should be Bi
LucaEmma is nowhere to be found after seeing my father and mother off the property, but I have no doubt where she's hiding, and I disfavour that deeply.For a long moment, I stand before Niko's door, my hand midair as I contemplate knocking and demand she sleep anywhere but his room. A jealous side of me that lives rent-free inside me has surfaced. After all, before my father turned up with his fake apology, we had been communicating more effectively than ever before.I think about where she could stay—even upstairs in one of the other's rooms while they bunk up would be favourable—but something stops me.Sighing, I step back from the door. I have to start making good decisions, and bowling on there right now to demand Emma come to bed with me will be far too pushy and far too soon.Even I know that. I'm treading in murky waters without recollection of safe ground. I'll have to move carefully and consider each decision—contemplate Emma's reactions to ensure I don't make another wro
Luca"Aria, come to Papa?" I request, sitting opposite Emma on the floor of our new lounge in our new home. I bought a new country estate not long ago, in secret and not in either of our names, of course. Our little family is growing by one more, not to mention all of Rossi's former men, women, and children who have moved with us.Yes. Emma is pregnant again, six or so weeks. A little flickering entity is living deep within her tummy once again. I'm excited to watch her swell with this child, as I was with our princess, and I'm equally happy to find out who fate has blessed us with.Aria is nearly ten months old. She's tall like me. Her previous brown hair has turned into long, curly blonde locks like Emma's, and she has her mother's eyes but strangely looks a hell of a lot like me."Go to Papa, Arri," Emma encourages.Watching intently, I hold my hands out for our little girl, and she shakily takes some steps, holding onto her mother's fingers. I've been away these last few days, bu
Anxiety rolls through me, and I start to wonder if anyone would have followed them. If our impenetrable home will fail us. I started spiralling; I swore I might begin hyperventilating before Luca reentered with his parents.Dimitri and Lucia are dressed down in casual clothes that scream normal people. Luca looks far too overdressed compared to the three of us, but his father appraises him with a grin before holding his hand out."Congratulations, son.""Thank you, Father."Lucia moves away from them and comes to me. She smiles kindly and bends her knee beside me on the sofa."Congratulations, Emma. How are you?" she asks me, her hand coming out to stroke my hair away from my face before she holds my chin much as she has done a few times before."Tired, overwhelmed, wired. That's hard to answer.""Birth does that to you; the drop in hormones is worse than the pregnancy itself. How have you been getting along? Is there anything you need?" She litters me with questions, surprising me. I
EmmaIntroducing Aria to our men—our family was exhausting, but at least we could keep her birth a secret from the outside world with them.Luca and I have been in this quiet, subdued, and fabulous bubble, but just as with everything, Dimitri is not out of the know. The plan was to call him the day after the birth, but we put it off and then again the next day and the one after that. It turns out he made the first move. He called just this morning, six days after her birth, to ask why we were keeping his grandchild away from him and Lucia and if we knew there were protocols in place to pass over the information. The call was scary; I watched the version of Luca, who had been around me for days, turn into the man I came home to over a year ago. Honestly, we didn't call to prevent the rest of the world from knowing. There's this deep-rooted need to protect my little girl; no, that's not right. It's not a need; it's a must. In answer to his question, we knew we would only need to mak
I watch as he grabs Aria's blanket, the little changing bag and a small teddy Anna gifted Aria."Let's get comfortable in the lounge before they come?" He asks, holding a hand out to lead me from the bed.I nod, cradling Aria closer before I stand and let Luca walk us down to the lounge we never use. The sofa isn't as comfortable as the bed; it's cold and far too firm, but I make myself as comfortable as I can while Aria continues to feed. She soon falls asleep, so I move her to lay over my shoulder to burp her. That's when Luca leaves, obviously having word that his parents are here.Anxiety rolls through me, and I start to wonder if anyone would have followed them. If our impenetrable home will fail us. I started spiralling; I swore I might begin hyperventilating before Luca reentered with his parents.Dimitri and Lucia are dressed down in casual clothes that scream normal people. Luca looks far too overdressed compared to the three of us, but his father appraises him with a grin b
EmmaIntroducing Aria to our men—our family was exhausting, but at least we could keep her birth a secret from the outside world with them.Luca and I have been in this quiet, subdued, and fabulous bubble, but just as with everything, Dimitri is not out of the know. The plan was to call him the day after the birth, but we put it off and then again the next day and the one after that. It turns out he made the first move. He called just this morning, six days after her birth, to ask why we were keeping his grandchild away from him and Lucia and if we knew there were protocols in place to pass over the information. The call was scary; I watched the version of Luca, who had been around me for days, turn into the man I came home to over a year ago. Honestly, we didn't call to prevent the rest of the world from knowing. There's this deep-rooted need to protect my little girl; no, that's not right. It's not a need; it's a must. In answer to his question, we knew we would only need to mak
"Take your T-shirt off?" I request with a beaming smile that sends tingles through my veins at the thought of gifting this invaluable gift of life to Luca after so long."O—Kay," he replies with confusion but does it anyway. His shirt goes over his head, and he dumps it with his shoes on the floor. I lay our daughter, who is just as naked as his chest, on him. The doctor raved about skin-to-skin, so surely that extends to her father, too? I gently press her head sideways so she can breathe, and I watch with amusement as Luca holds his hands out as if he thinks he might harm her if he moves. "Here," I smile, moving his hands to cradle her before I cover the pair of them with the blanket around my legs.It's an instant connection for him, his eyes close as he presses his back into the lifted mattress, and he leans down to smell our little girl's head. A sound somewhere between a moan and a groan exits his mouth, and tears fall through his closed eyes."Congratulations, Papa," I whisper
EmmaAs I look down into my baby's eyes, I forget all the hardship her labour created only moments ago. She has the deepest shade of mahogany brown hair that covers her head and curls by her ears, yet her eyes seem somewhat light—perhaps they'll be a shade of blue like mine or a deep shade of marbled grey.Her looks remarkably resemble both of ours, yet it seems she favours her father more. It's in her straight nose, sharp jawline, and chin that resembles his. I know this might change; in fact, there's a sure certainty that my daughter will evolve rapidly, but right now, I couldn't be happier to meet her, especially to have her resemble her father in such ways. My world re-centres around her, making everything else seem dim in comparison to her. I've never felt love like this. It pulls my insides as something imaginary envelopes the pair of us. It feels like a bubble, one that's missing one person—the very man waiting to meet his daughter properly. "Hello, my darling," I hum quietly
The petite blonde, blue-eyed, screaming doll had me hooked. She held my finger and soon babbled up at me as if her world had already revolved around me. Christ, I hope our daughter looks like her mother and equally looks up to me like that. What I'm trying to describe is how fate had me fall for her even then when she was a newborn baby, and my love has lasted this long.Emma turns to me, looking up as she has on so many occasions before. She seeks my gaze on the balcony, and I hold hers for a long moment. A smile spreads on her face, and she summons me, taking my breath away.She's forgiven me yet again, not that I deserve her forgiveness after treating her so demeaningly. Holding one finger up, I back away, turning into the bedroom before floating toward her. And then through the house and down the hall. I walk through the open patio doors and down the steps into the garden and stalk towards her fervently. Her hand is outstretched at the very moment I grab her waist, pulling her
Six months later LucaAs I stare at Emma sitting in our garden with her stomach round and protruding, one hand rubbing it absently, I think over the events that led up to this moment.Things haven't always been easy for us, far from.Falling in love with her at such a young age gave my father the weakness he needed to exploit to keep me in check. He had his gun trained on her one too many times with only our knowledge to make me do as he wished. Taking her away from me made me thicken my skin; that was the most suitable decision he ever made and probably will ever make regarding me and my future. Without that singular choice, I don't know if I would ever have become the man everyone fears. The loss of Emma was monumental in creating the drive I lacked beforehand. I suppose I should be thankful to my father; without his input, Emma's and my child's safety would be at risk more than it is.The sun shines down on her as if telling me to watch my beautiful wife as she walks alongside t