Page 10

Lucia is giggling behind a barrel, holding Alice’s hand. And Alice… Alice is radiant. She crouches beside my daughter, whispering something that makes Lucia erupt into another round of squeals.

For a second, I just stand there, watching them. The ache in my chest is slow and unfamiliar. Territorial. Unsettling.

And when Alice looks up, her smile falters.

She straightens gently, letting go of Lucia, who darts off after her brother, and walks toward me. Her brows knit, and her voice is soft.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” I say. Too fast. Too flat .

She lifts an eyebrow. “That wasn’t convincing.”

I huff out a breath and adjust my cuffs, needing something to do with my hands. “Ran into an old friend.”

She tilts her head like she’s trying to read between the lines. “A friendly friend or the kind who leaves bruises with words?”

I meet her eyes. “The latter.” I’m not sure why I admit it, and yet I do.

“Ah,” she says, with a knowing little nod. “One of those.”

There’s no judgment in her voice, only understanding. I hate how much that cracks something open in me.

She places a hand gently on my forearm, her fingers featherlight against my suit. “You don’t have to stay if it’s too much,” she says. “The kids are having a blast. I can handle it.”

I look past her to where Alessio is now in a full sword fight with a very dramatic pirate. Lucia’s dancing in circles, her crown askew, her laughter clear and bright.

And somehow, it doesn’t feel like too much. It feels like… enough. Like a memory I’ll regret not making.

“I’ll stay,” I murmur. Then, quieter, “Thank you.”

Alice’s expression softens, and the way she looks at me, it’s not pity. It’s not performance. It’s that same softness she gives the twins. Real. Unfiltered. It floors me.

She smiles gently. “Come on then, Captain. Let’s go find your crew.”

And just like that, the tension in my shoulders eases.

But Madeline’s words linger.

She’s just the nanny… right?

God help me, but I’m not so sure anymore.

We stay longer than I had planned.

Lucia insists on staying for the pirate storytelling, and Alessio wants to duel every child in a bandana. I don’t protest. I let them have it—let her have it—this win, this moment of joy.

She kneels on the edge of the pirate ship display, sword in hand, pretending to fend off sea monsters with a half dozen kids cheering her on. Her laughter is bright, unguarded, the kind that burrows under your skin.

She glances at me once through the crowd, her eyes catching mine like a hook in the gut. Glitter is still caught at the hem of her green dress from the pirate bomb earlier, and I can’t stop staring at the way it sways around her thighs as she moves, so effortlessly part of our world now.

No. Not “just” the nanny. Not to them. And, fuck me, not to me either.

Eventually, the crowd thins. The music dims. Alessio rubs his eyes, and Lucia leans into Alice, wrapping her arms around her waist. I step in before she has to carry them both; she’s already given enough tonight.

She thanks me with a smile. It’s soft and unassuming… and it undoes me.

The ride home is quieter.

Lucia dozes off halfway through, her head resting on Alice’s shoulder. Alessio fights it, mumbling something about dragons needing to stand guard, but eventually, his little body slumps against my arm. I adjust him carefully, cradling him like I used to when he was small enough to fit in one hand .

When we get back, it’s instinct that makes us move together like we’ve done this a hundred times. I carry Alessio upstairs while Alice holds Lucia, her head tucked gently beneath her chin.

We split at the top of the stairs wordlessly and place them in their beds.

Lucia stirs, rubbing her eyes. “Papa… monster prayer?”

I pause, my hand halfway to adjusting her blanket. I glance at Alice in the doorway, unsure.

She smiles and gently nods.

So I sit down on the edge of the bed, brushing my daughter’s curls from her forehead. Alice leans against the doorframe, arms folded, her eyes impossibly calm as she watches me fumble my way through it.

I clear my throat. “Monsters, monsters, big and tall…”

Lucia echoes the next line sleepily, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t scare me, just guard us all…”

My voice lowers, steadier this time. “Watch my bed and guard the light. Keep me safe all through the night.”

She’s already asleep before the last word is out.

I stand, and Alice closes the door behind us.

We don’t speak as we walk down the hallway. Something’s shifted again, and it’s quiet, like before a storm. Like we’re holding our breath in the dark.

When we reach her room, she turns, hand on the doorknob. “Thank you. For tonight. They had so much fun.”

I should nod. I should say goodnight and walk away.

But I don’t.

Instead, I hear myself say, “You didn’t tell me the monster prayer was a spell. ”

She smiles, confused. “It’s not.”

“No?” I step closer. “Because it worked.”

Her breath hitches, the air tight between us. My hand lifts before I can stop it, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers graze her cheek, and her lips part just a little. The world narrows. Shrinks.

“Dante…”

“I’ve tried not to want this,” I whisper, my voice thick. “Tried to ignore it. But every time I see you with them… with me…” I shake my head, and my jaw tightens. “I’m done pretending.”

And then I kiss her.

There’s no hesitation. No careful approach. My mouth claims hers in a kiss that’s rough and desperate, months of tension unraveling in a single heartbeat. She gasps, and I take the opportunity to deepen it, my hand sliding to the back of her neck as she presses against me.

She answers with a hunger that knocks the air out of my lungs. Her fingers tangle in my shirt, her mouth hot and sweet against mine, tasting like a secret I never should’ve touched.

It’s fire and silk and madness, and I don’t want to stop.

Not tonight. Not now.

Not when she kisses me like this.

Not when I already know I’ll never be the same again.