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New blood.

Bianca and I were going to start the new generation of Rossis. A fist of anxiety stabbed my chest at the thought. It wasn’t easy wrapping my mind around it. But as the weeks went by, I’d slowly come to terms with starting a family. It wasn’t unheard of for a hit man to get a vasectomy. No children. No attachments.

Bianca was on her back and my eyes tracked down her body. I put my hand on her belly, imagining my child growing inside her.

Unfamiliar wings of happiness rioted in my chest, so big that I had to exhale it to make room for more.

It was then her eyes fluttered opened, and a smile curved her beautiful lips. Made more beautiful because they bore evidence of how much I kissed the fuck out of her. Rosy. Bee-stung. Pouty.

“You’re watching me sleep now?”

I didn’t say anything, but a corner of my mouth hitched up.

Her eyes lowered to my hand on her belly. “What are you up to, Sandro Rossi?”

“What do you think about kids?” I murmured.

“Kids?” Her eyes widened as all traces of sleep left them. “Of course I want them…eventually.”

“Eventually when?”

She laughed briefly. “I’m not having this conversation without coffee…and with morning breath.”

Bianca rolled out of the bed and dashed her delectable naked body into the bathroom.

“Oh my God,” she called out. “I’m still finding mousse on my body.”

I glanced at the cake jars on the nightstand. We’d showered a couple of times after I ate cake off her, but Bianca somehow wanted to eat more cake in bed and dropped the mousse on herself.

I got up lazily and prowled into the bathroom. “It seems I didn’t do a thorough job.” I hugged her from behind and planted a kiss on her shoulder while she gargled mouthwash.

“Sandro,” she hissed. “I’m all sticky.”

She finished gargling and turned around. I pressed my mouth against her lips. “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning. How come you smell so good already?” she mumbled.

I smiled and nuzzled her throat. “I woke up much earlier. Stop fussing. I would have woken you up with my mouth between your legs, but you needed a break.”

“Then make coffee,” she ordered.

I sighed and leaned back. “Are you trying to deflect the conversation?”

“From kids, no.”

“It’s almost noon. Do you want brunch instead?”

“Coffee first.”

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Bianca

When I checked my phone this morning, it was to a slew of messages from Ivy and Sera, checking if I was awake already. I responded to Ivy’s last one.

Ivy