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Chapter Thirty-Nine

Viviana

Two weeks later, the soft hum of conversation fills the villa, mingling with the gentle crackle of the fireplace.

It’s been two weeks since Romeo slipped that ring onto my finger in the sterile confines of a hospital room, and though the world around us still feels precarious, tonight, there’s peace. Peace I never thought we’d have.

The villa is beautiful, secluded, and perched atop rolling hills. The golden hues of the Spanish countryside stretch endlessly beyond the wide terrace, and inside, the warm glow of low lights makes everything feel intimate.

Matteo sits near the fireplace, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he speaks with a couple of Romeo’s trusted allies. These men—friends, really—are more like family than anyone I’ve had in years.

Yet, there’s a hollow ache in my chest that I can’t quite shake.

I stand near the dining table, my fingers tracing the edge of my wine glass. It’s sparkling cider, of course, but no one’s dared to tease me about it. Romeo’s sharp eyes sweep over the room every so often, landing on me like a silent tether, grounding me to him even when we’re apart.

“Deep in thought?” a familiar voice asks, pulling me from my reverie. I turn to find Matteo standing beside me, a glass of whiskey in hand. His dark eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them, his expression almost amused.

“Just…reflecting,” I say with a faint smile, glancing around the room. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How life can change so quickly.”

He nods, his gaze following mine. “You’ve been through a lot, Viviana. More than most people could handle.”

I shrug, trying to downplay the weight of his words, but they linger. “Romeo’s been through more.”

Matteo chuckles lightly. “Maybe, but he’s not the only one who’s strong. Don’t sell yourself short.”

As Matteo drifts back to his conversation, I find myself watching Romeo. He’s at the far end of the room, his posture relaxed as he listens to one of his men recount a story.

The damaged part of the estate is being rebuilt, but there’s more than enough room for all of us to share this moment in the wing that survived.

There’s a quiet intensity about Romeo tonight, as if he’s still calculating, always prepared for the next move. It’s a part of him that will never change, and maybe that’s for the best. It’s the part of him that kept us alive.

Still, I wonder what my parents would have thought of all this. My father, who betrayed me, betrayed us, but who I still loved at the end. My mother, who died too young to see me become this version of myself—stronger, more broken, and yet, more complete all at once.

The thought brings a lump to my throat, and I look down, blinking away the sting of tears. I grip the edge of the table for a moment, steadying myself. I don’t want to cry tonight. Not here. Not now.

A hand brushes my arm, warm and steady, and I turn to find Romeo beside me. His dark eyes soften as he takes me in, his free hand brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low so no one else can hear.

I nod, forcing a small smile. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Family,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Or the lack of it.”

His expression darkens for a moment, his hand tightening around his glass. “You have a family now,” he says firmly. “Me. The baby. Matteo, for all his faults.”

I laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension in my chest. “I know. I’m grateful for that. More than I can say.”

He studies me for a moment, then leans down, his lips brushing my temple. “If you ever want more,” he murmurs, “we’ll make it happen. Whatever you need, Viviana.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tighten, and I nod, swallowing hard. “Thank you,” I whisper.

***

Later, as the evening winds down, the guests begin to leave, their goodbyes warm but brief. Matteo is the last to go, lingering at the door to share a quiet word with Romeo before disappearing into the night.

The villa feels larger now, emptier, but in a way that’s comforting. It’s just us again.

Romeo steps onto the terrace, the cool night air ruffling his dark hair. He’s shed his jacket and tie, his shirt sleeves are rolled up, and he looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. I follow him outside, wrapping a shawl around my shoulders as I step into the night.

The view takes my breath away every time. The hills stretch out like an endless sea, the stars above bright and unfiltered by city lights. It feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask, slipping my hand into his.

He glances down at me, a small smile playing at his lips. “Just thinking about how much quieter life is now.”

“Do you miss it?” I ask, genuinely curious. “The chaos, the power?”

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Not for a second.”

I lean into him, my head resting against his shoulder. “I miss them,” I admit softly. “My parents. Even my father, despite everything. Is that wrong?”

“No,” he says firmly, his voice steady. “It’s human.”

I look up at him, my chest tightening. “Thank you. For this. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, his tone softer now. “You saved me, Viviana. This life we’re building—it wouldn’t exist without you.”

His words settle over me, warm and comforting, and for the first time in weeks, the ache in my chest feels manageable.

“We’re going to be okay,” I say, more to myself than to him.

The night air is cool against my skin, the scent of lavender and citrus from the garden wafting gently around us. Romeo’s arm tightens around my shoulders, his warmth cutting through the chill.

I tilt my head to look at him, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight. This man, once so fearsome and untouchable, now looks…at peace.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Like what?” I counter, feigning innocence.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” he says, turning to face me fully. His dark eyes search mine, their depths endless and consuming.

“Maybe I am,” I admit softly. “You’re not an easy man to understand.”

He steps closer, his fingers brushing my cheek, trailing down to my jaw. The heat from his touch sends a shiver down my spine. “Yet, you’re still here,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “That has to mean something.”

“It means I’m stubborn,” I tease, though my breath hitches as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip.

He leans in, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “Or maybe it means you see me,” he whispers, his voice raw. “The real me.”

The vulnerability in his words undoes me, and before I can overthink it, I close the distance between us, my lips crashing against his.

The kiss is fierce, needy, as if all the emotions we’ve been holding back are spilling out at once. His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, anchoring myself to him.

“Viviana,” he growls against my lips, the sound sending a jolt of heat through me. His mouth moves to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as his hands slide lower, his touch firm but reverent.

I gasp, my body arching into his, and he pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes blazing with a mix of desire and restraint. “You drive me insane,” he admits, his voice thick. “Do you know that?”

“Good,” I whisper, my lips brushing against his. “Because you do the same to me.”

We break apart eventually, our breaths mingling as we lean against each other. My head rests on his chest, and I can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear, a steady reminder that he’s as affected as I am.

“Come on,” I say finally, my voice soft but steady. “Let’s check on our son.”

Romeo nods, his hand resting on the small of my back as he guides me inside. The villa is quiet now, the remnants of the evening’s celebration tucked away. Upstairs, the faint glow of a lamp spills into the hallway, leading us to the nursery.

The nanny greets us with a warm smile, cradling our son in her arms. “He’s been an angel tonight,” she says, her voice soft so as not to wake him fully. “Barely a fuss.”

“Thank you,” I say, reaching for him. She carefully transfers him into my arms, and I can’t help but smile as I look down at his tiny face. He stirs slightly, his little hands curling into fists, but he doesn’t wake.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” the nanny says, gathering her things. Romeo steps aside to let her pass, murmuring a polite “goodnight” before closing the door behind her.

The room is warm and quiet, the soft hum of the heater filling the space. I sink into the rocking chair, holding our son close as I gently run my finger along his tiny cheek. Romeo stands nearby, his gaze fixed on us with an intensity that takes my breath away.

“Sometimes I can’t believe he’s real,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “That any of this is real.”

Romeo steps closer, crouching in front of me so that we’re eye level. His hand moves to cover mine, his touch warm and grounding. “It’s real,” he says firmly.

I look at him, my chest tightening with emotion. “I never planned for this,” I confess. “I never planned to love you.”

His lips twitch into a faint smile, his eyes softening. “I know.”

“I can’t imagine life without you now,” I continue, my voice trembling slightly. “You’ve changed everything, Romeo.”

He exhales slowly, his hand moving to rest gently on our son’s back. “You’ve changed me, Viviana,” he says quietly. “I thought I knew what I wanted, what mattered. None of it compares to this. To you.”

Tears prick at my eyes, and I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his. “Do you mean that?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes, his expression serious. “Everything I do now is for you two,” he says, his voice steady. “Every decision, every step—it’s all for our family.”

His words settle over me, warm and reassuring, and I feel a sense of peace I haven’t felt in years. I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and he cups my face, his touch gentle but firm.

Our son stirs again, letting out a soft coo, and we both laugh quietly, the sound breaking the moment but not the connection between us. Romeo stands, lifting me and our little boy in one smooth motion, and guides us toward the bed.

“Rest,” he says, his voice gentle but commanding. “You’ve done enough for one night.”

I settle onto the bed, cradling our son as Romeo lies beside me. The weight of his presence, his love, wraps around me like a blanket, and for the first time in a long time, I feel truly safe.

As I drift off, I know this isn’t the end of our story—it’s only the beginning. And for the first time, I’m ready for whatever comes next.