Page 183

There’s something unsteady there as he takes his next breath.
I see it.
I feel it.
The realisation that little baby is his blood.
A life created from both of our families, regardless of all the ugly history we’ve shared in the past.
He reaches out, his hand unsteady, before he lightly brushes his finger over my granddaughter’s cheek.
His jaw clenches.
His throat bobs as he takes a deep breath in, and he swallows hard.
“She is perfect.”
He croaks, his voice hoarse.
Chiara only smiles up at him, her eyes shining.
Dario, who’s been silent throughout this entire interaction, sighs dramatically, catching all of our attention.
“Okay, fine.” He mutters, stepping forward to be closer to his sister, and his niece. “Let me see her before everybody turns into a pile of mush.”
Mikhail shakes his head, breathing out a laugh.
“Good luck keeping up the tough guy act, dearestfratello.”
Dario only waves him off, now having grown used to my son’s constant teasing.
Chiara’s lips stretch wide across her face as she moves closer to her brother, proudly showing off Anastasia to him.
And the second his eyes land on his niece, the cocky smirk falters.
His expression shifts.
“Dario.” She murmurs as she offers him a better look. “Meet your niece.”
He stares at her.
That’s all he does for some time.
And then, very carefully, he reaches out, brushing a single finger over her tiny curled fist.
“She’s so small.”
He whispers, breathing out, leaning down to get a better look at her.
Nikolai smiles, nodding towards Francesco.
“That’s what your father said too.”
Dario doesn’t move.
He only stares at her, his gaze locked on Anastasia’s sleeping form.
“She’s going to be so loved.” He finally mutters, pulling away from her to hold Chiara by the back of her head, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You did good, sorellina mia.”