Page 14

CATALINA

I’ve never been this exhausted and this in love at the same time.

Severu’s asleep in the chair beside the bed—still dressed in yesterday’s suit pants and undershirt, arms folded, head tipped back. Even in rest, he looks ready to kill anyone who so much as breathes too loud.

I cradle our son against my chest, skin to skin. He’s warm. Perfect. Everything.

A soft knock at the door breaks the stillness. I whisper, "Come in."

Severu's Aunt Ilaria steps inside, carrying a pale blue gift bag with one hand, a small insulated thermos in the other. Her heels click against the polished floor—of course she wore heels to a hospital. Of course she looks immaculate.

Aria did too when she came in to meet her grandson.

These women and their heels. Severu never lifted his moratorium on me wearing them, even after I was completely healed from my hip surgery. And I don't mind one bit.

Ilaria's eyes are soft, rimmed with unshed tears.

"I brought you tea," she says.

"You didn’t have to—"

"I did." She sets the thermos down and reaches into the bag. "And I brought you these."

She pulls out an ultra-soft, chartreuse robe and a pair of comfy slippers in the same color. The kind of bright pick me up you don’t realize you need until someone hands it to you.

I brought a robe and slippers to the hospital. If I hadn't, Severu would have, but this gift…it's so me. A silent but heartfelt way of showing me that she supports and accepts me just as I am.

Just like Aria. These two women have done so much to make my life as the wife of a don and then godfather, not merely bearable, but wonderful.

"It’s perfect," I say quietly.

"So are you." She winks and then her gaze lands on the baby. "Can I…?"

I nod. Ilaria sits on the edge of the bed and carefully, reverently, takes Enzo into her arms.

"He looks like Severu," she says after a long moment. "But I see you in him too. In the way he holds his mouth. In the stubborn set of his jaw."

I blink back tears.

"Thank you," I whisper.

She looks up. "For what?"

"For seeing me. For letting me in."

"I didn’t let you in," she says gently. "You walked in like you belonged. And you did."

The door opens again. Big Sal steps in. He’s already scowling. "Where’s his cap? His head’s going to get cold."

Ilaria rolls her eyes and hands him the baby. "He’s warm enough. We’re indoors. Let her breathe."

Sal holds the baby like he’s been doing it all his life. Like he never stopped.

"Well?" I ask, biting my lip. "What do you think, consigliere?"

He looks down at the baby—so tiny in his massive hands—and something flickers in his expression. Not softness. Not quite. Something ancient and proud.

"He’s perfect," Big Sal says gruffly. "Just like his mother."

"That's what I said." Ilaria leans into her husband's side.

He tucks her close and then smiles. "He'll be as stubborn as his father, though. God help us all."

I laugh. Ilaria does too. And for one shining moment, everything is exactly as it should be.

NERISSA

No one warned me that my cousin having a baby would turn me into a disaster .

I didn't get like this when Giulia had Neri. Of course, I didn't meet him until he was nearly a year old and I wasn't with Nesto then.

The possibility that this could one day be me, never even register. Now, it's all I can think about.

A family with Nesto, another baby to add to the De Luca legacy.

I step into the room with a wrapped gift balanced in one hand and a glare ready in the other. Because if anyone says I’m crying? They’re getting throat-punched.

Catalina excepted of course.

Severu? Not so much. Godfather, or not.

A little voice in my head mocks me for my inner rant knowing I wouldn't disrespect the godfather, ever. He might be family, but he's more. The head of the Cosa Nostra in America, there's not a more powerful man in our world.

And I respect him more than I'll ever be willing to admit.

Catalina looks up from the bed, sleepy but radiant in the bright green robe mamma bought her. She gives me a tired smile and nods toward the bassinet beside her. "He’s ready to meet his fiercest cousin."

"Damn right I am," I mutter, making my way over. "But don't tell Salvatore. He'll get butt hurt."

Catalina's smile is wan, but genuine.

Enzo is sleeping like a snug little burrito in a navy swaddle embroidered with tiny gold crowns and a large De Luca coat of arms in the center. This little guy is mafia royalty and just like any prince, his life is mapped before him.

But I know Severu and Catalina. They'll raise their little prince with love and the De Luca sense of honor.

"Hey there, bambino ," I whisper, crouching over the bassinet. "I’m Nerissa. Your cousin. Grown men fear me, but you’ve already ruined me. Don't go getting a big head over it though."

His tiny mouth puckers and relaxes. My heart does something terrifying.

"Would you like to hold him?" Catalina asks, sitting up straighter.

I freeze. "What if I break him?"

"You took down a 250-pound enforcer last month," she deadpans. "You’ll be fine."

I slide into the armchair beside the bed, and Catalina hands him to me like he’s made of stardust and glass. He settles against my chest with a sigh.

That’s it. I’m gone.

"Holy shit," I breathe. "I’d kill for this baby."

"You’d kill for most people in this room," Severu says from the doorway, smirking.

I don’t deny it.

Dad walks in behind him. "Just don’t teach him how to build a car bomb until he can walk."

"I was thinking more kindergarten," I say sweetly.

Catalina snorts. "That’s what you think. You’ve got the biggest heart of all of us."

"I’m still not crying." I never cry outside of the bedroom. And that's different.

"Of course not," Severu says, and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You’re Nerissa De Luca. Steel spine. Killer aim. Soft as hell where it counts."

I roll my eyes, but my voice cracks. "Don’t make me prove it by gutting someone."

Baby Enzo makes a tiny noise in his sleep.

I lean down and whisper against his hair, "Don’t worry, cuginetto . No one’s ever going to so much as touch you. Not on my watch."

Nesto is waiting for me when I come out of the birthing room. Pushing away from the wall, he puts his hand out and I take it.

"Ready to go home?" he asks, his voice strangely gentle.

I nod.

"That'll be us someday," Nesto says, like he didn't just drop a nuclear bomb on the way to the elevator.

But my heart…well, it kind of wants those words to be true.