Page 19 of Devil’s Azalea (Nightshades #3)

RAFAEL

“So, we’ll have it brought in through the?—”

I tune out the rest of Martin’s words as Enzo steps up beside me. “Urgent call for you. They’ve been trying to reach you on your personal line.”

That’s because I put my phone on DND for this meeting. I frown as I take the phone from him. Only my brothers have the privilege of bypassing my silence filter through Enzo, and if they’re saying it’s urgent, it’s urgent .

I lift the phone to my ear, bracing myself for whatever catastrophe awaits. “Hello?”

“Rafael. Sorry to cut off your meeting. But I have very good news.” Romero’s voice practically vibrates with joy, and almost by reflex, a smile tugs at my lips. He wouldn’t sound like that unless it was something big. This sounds promising.

“Let’s hear it,” I prompt when his dramatic pause stretches beyond tolerable limits.

“Gianna just gave birth. Two girls, fratello .”

I catapult to my feet, a wide grin stretching across my face as pride surges through my veins. Two daughters. Michael and Gianna had chosen not to learn the gender ahead of time, dragging us all through months of suspense. “Where are they?”

“Gianna’s,” he answers simply. The private hospital Michael got for his wife.

“I’m on my way.” I hang up and hand the phone back to Enzo, who’s eyeing me like I’ve grown a second head. The curiosity on his face is so blatant, it actually makes me laugh. His brows shoot up, lips parting like he can’t quite believe what he just heard.

And honestly? I don’t blame him. It’s not often anyone catches me in a good mood, let alone laughing.

“Gianna just gave birth,” I tell him, my cheeks hurting from the foreign sensation of holding such a wide smile for so long. For a second, I have to squash the bizarre urge to hug the man.

Instead, I turn towards the DJ stand and raise a commanding hand.

My man stationed there catches my meaning instantly. He goes up to the DJ, leans in, and whispers something into his ear. The booming music cuts off mid-beat, plunging the club into a startled silence as every eye in the room gravitates towards me with almost magnetic precision.

“Drinks are on the house for the rest of the night!” I announce, and a deafening cheer erupts, the whole club riding the wave of my high.

As the music kicks back up, I grab my jacket off my seat and start making my way to the exit.

“Hey!” Martin calls after me, straining to be heard. “I was in the middle of discussing something important! What about our meeting? Where are you going?!”

I throw a glance over my shoulder. “Enzo will take over the meeting for me. And as for me?” I pause, my smile returning. “I’m going to celebrate with my family.”

A tune escapes my lips as I step outside—I’m actually fucking whistling. Even the falling snow isn’t enough to dampen my soaring mood, though it will undoubtedly create traffic delays. Still, nothing can ruin this high right now.

I slide into the back of my Royce, where Alfred already sits at attention behind the wheel.

I give him our destination, and he pulls out of the lot, two cars filled with my men falling into formation behind us.

Not excessive—merely necessary. After all, my brothers and I, as well as their families, will all be gathered in one place, away from the safety of our fortresses.

That kind of concentration makes us a tempting target.

Enemies will no doubt try to strike and take us down.

Fortunately, the hospital belonging to Gianna means Michael can take over the security. If anyone can turn a hospital into a fortress, it’s him. Then again, hospitals are messy by nature—too many people coming and going to fully lock it down.

As predicted, we soon hit gridlocked traffic, forcing the car to a crawl.

I gaze out the window absently, mind already at the hospital with my new nieces, when a splash of color catches my eye.

Right across the street, tucked behind a brightly lit glass front, is what looks like a baby mall.

Sure enough, the glittering sign says Baby Center, and the place is packed to the roof with baby stuff.

Impulse hit. I shoot a quick text to my security team about my spontaneous detour, and before Alfred can say a word, I’m out of the car.

He pulls out of the traffic to the curb as I cross into the mall.

Inside, I’m immediately overwhelmed by the riot of cheerful balloons, flowers, and endless baby merchandise crowding every surface. What are you even supposed to get for newborns?

A store attendant walks up to me with a polite smile. “Do you need help shopping, sir?” Her smile fades a little as my men file in behind me, but she recovers quickly, maintaining her professional mien .

“I’m not sure what an appropriate gift would be,” I admit, scanning the aisles like I’m staring down a battlefield.

“I’m honestly considering just buying out the entire store and having the items delivered to the new parents.

” They can go through it all at their own pace and pick what they need.

With two kids, they’ll probably end up using most of it anyway.

The attendant laughs like I’ve told the world’s funniest joke. When I don’t join in, her amusement dies. “Oh. You were… serious?”

I frown. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Well, I imagine getting an entire store’s worth of baby items might be a bit overwhelming for the new parents…”

Fair enough. If I’m this overwhelmed just looking at it all, they’d probably be buried alive.

“Tell you what,” she says quickly. “I’ll help you. What gender is the baby?”

“Babies,” I correct distractedly, eyes snagging on a cluster of pink balloons a few feet away. “They’re girls.”

“Wow, twins! That’s something special. You want balloons? Getting three might be a great start—One for each girl, and one for the mother. Trust me, she’ll appreciate it. The mothers often get overlooked when a baby is born.”

Can’t have that. “I’ll take three dozen,” I tell her. “And two dozen of those.” I nod towards the display of pink and white roses at the far end of the store. Something specifically for Gianna.

The attendant splutters like a fish out of water, blinking rapidly, then nods quickly and waves to a second attendant lurking nearby. “Would you like to see our collection of baby clothes? They’re quite trendy and the best you’ll find in the city.”

I let her lead me to the clothing section, and I swear I can almost see the dollar signs in her eyes as she grins up at me. Not one to disappoint, I gesture towards an entire row of tiny clothes. “I want everything on this rack. In pairs.”

“Of course, sir,” she nods sagely. “Right away.” Another wave to her colleague.

I spent close to an hour inside. She drags me through every section, pointing and suggesting, and I keep nodding and buying.

Socks, mittens, cute little hats, blankets, tiny shoes—why are there even shoes for babies when the little creatures can’t walk?

The absurdity doesn’t stop me from purchasing several pairs in different colors.

By the time we finish, I’ve practically cleaned out half the store, and the attendant’s smile has grown in perfect sync with the climbing total on the register.

“Thank you for shopping with us, sir. And congratulations,” she says finally, handing back my Amex with a grin.

I adjust the armful of flowers to reclaim my card. My men are weighed down with bags and balloons, so the flowers are mine to carry—not that I mind.

I’m grinning as we walk out of the store, but then the wind carries with it a familiar, twinkling laughter that freezes my heart mid-beat, right next to the open car door.

No. Fucking. Way.

My gaze hunts for the source immediately, zeroing in on two women several feet down the sidewalk—one blonde and the other with dark, honey-brown hair. My gaze fixates on the latter.

Emilia.

She glances up like she can physically feel my stare, and for one perfect moment, she’s smiling. Actually smiling, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years.

Then recognition hits, and the smile dies.

God, I hate destroying that rare look of unguarded joy. I can’t recall the last time I saw her laughing… or even genuinely smiling .

Her gaze drops to the flowers in my arm, travels to my men loading bags into the cars, and I watch her piece it together. The glare that follows could melt steel. She goes to take a step towards me— finally —but the blonde next to her grabs her elbow, stopping her.

I spare the interfering woman a withering glance. How fucking dare she try to come between us?

I give Emilia a little nod as I slip into my car, but my earlier excitement is gone. Tapered off by the gorgeous image of her laughing. Of how that laugh used to belong to me. Of how this could have been us with the kids.

If things had gone as planned a decade ago, we’d probably have our own brood of kids now, wouldn’t we?

I maintain unwavering eye contact as my car pulls off the curb and merges with traffic, our gazes locked until she disappears from view. Only then am I able to breathe through the vise crushing my chest.

Goddamn her.

Now my head teems with forbidden images—her belly swollen with our child, her body bringing my heir into the world.

A tiny being that would be half of me, half of her.

Would their hair be light like hers or dark like mine?

Would they inherit her sultry brown eyes or my lighter eyes?

Would we have girls? Boys? Or a mixture of both.

“We’re here, sir.” Alfred’s deep voice pulls me from my dangerous reverie, and I glance out at the imposing hospital before us.

Right. Reality.

I sigh and get out of the car, banishing the ridiculous fantasies as I make my way into the lobby.

The staff recognizes me immediately. One of them steps forward, eyeing my guards and their mountain of bags before leading us to the private ward housing the mother and newborns .