Page 160 of Thorns of Death

Margaret chuckled. “It has to be something about Italian men. They insist on keeping their women pregnant.” Luca and I groaned at the same time, but both women ignored us. “How far along are you?”

Isla glowed, happiness shining through her eyes. “Just three months.” She flicked me a glance. “After this, we’re done with children. We have six. That’s more than plenty.”

I wrapped my hand around her waist. “We shall see.”

We had an early dinner out on the terrace with music, wine, and laughter. Manuel, Luca, and I discussed new products and routes for upcoming shipments. Isla and Margaret talked about motherhood, careers, and travel. They had quite a lot in common.

The children played. Little Armani, enthralled with Iryna and Inessa, chased them around. Romeo and Damiano snuck into the garden and were probably killing Zia’s lemon trees, while Penelope drifted around, touring the property.

It didn’t escape me that Luca kept his attention on her. Almost as if he worried we’d kidnap her and marry her off to Enzo. She was still too young, for Christ’s sake.

“How is your grandfather?” I asked Luca. “I heard his health worsened. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Luca tilted his head in acknowledgement. “He’s fighting it. He wants to live forever.”

I smiled. “He has a lot to live for. It gave him purpose when you moved back.”

He finally cracked a smile. “He never fails to remind me how I waited too long to move back.”

“My old man used to say everything happens at just the right time,” I told him.

Our server brought cognac and the three of us shared it. The women had dessert. The kids had gelato but refused to slow down and savor it. Instead, they ran around, happy and carefree with ice cream on their faces and dirt on their clothes.

“About the arrangement between our families—”

I wondered how long it’d take him to bring it up.

I met Luca’s eyes. “I won’t cancel it.” Anger flashed across his face, but before he could say anything else, I continued, “But if our children don’t grow to love each other, I’ll be willing to reconsider.”

Our wills battled. History danced. Ghosts lurked.

“Va bene,” Luca answered, and we shook on it. “I’ll take that, because I’m certain my daughter won’t fall in love with your son.”

I grinned. “We shall see.”

It didn’t matter. One way or another, my sixth sense told me, we’d connect our families. But that was to unfold in due time.

Right now, all I wanted to do was live for today. Just plain live and love every moment I’d been given on this planet with my family.

As if she could sense my thoughts, Isla’s eyes found mine and she smiled. We still carried our scars, hers visible, mine below the surface but still just as telling of the trials that put them there. But with each day together as a family, they faded. Because of her—my wife. My entire world.

THE END