I study my palms and second guess exiting the elevator.
“Maybe we should wait a few more days,” I say.
Ermanno slips his arm around my waist and tugs me against his side. Emotions clog my throat when he weaves his massive, scarred, and tatted fingers through mine and brings them to his lips.
“There’s nothing wrong with your hands, gattina. You won’t dirty the baby,” he says.
“I know but—”
“You’re aware Nico is the father, right?” he rumbles.
“Yes, I’m aware, but—”
“You know his hands have done way worse than you could ever imagine?”
“That’s not the same!”
He nibbles on the base of my thumb and hums.
“How is it different?”
I clench my jaw and breathe through my nose as I search for the right words.
How do I explain to him how much of a mindfuck it is to torture a replica of yourself? Even though there’s no longer a tie between me and my twin, I’ve still known her my entire life. We still look alike. I still have memories of when she was good to me.
Even though I haven’t used violence since that initial punch, queasiness grips me every time I think about her strapped to the cold metal table with my IV lines in her arms. Drugging someone you thought you loved your entire life and coercing information from them against their will isn’t something a normal person would do.
It’s something a villain does.
Whatever gory, brutal things Ermanno and Nico did were never against their kin. My sins seem so much worse in comparison.
The elevator dings and the doors open, but Ermanno crowds me into the corner and blocks me away from the world with his bulk.
“Serenity’s brother killed their uncle for touching his wife. Do you think he’s too evil to meet his niece?”
I skim my hands up Ermanno’s front and curl my fingers into his lapels as I search his eyes.
“Uncle by blood or marriage?”
He sighs as understanding softens his expression. He cups the back of my head, highlighting the tightness of my braid, and tilts my chin up with a finger.
“It doesn’t matter, gattina. You can’t betray someone who has already turned their back on you, so you’re not evil.”
Despite the intensity in his eyes, doubt niggles at me. He digs his fingertips into my braid.
“You proved your love and devotion to a worthy family, and by getting the answers we needed, you protected the Russo family,” he says.
The guilt gripping my heart loosens. I inhale through my nose and enjoy his masculine scent. The new parents requested we forego strong fragrances, so he isn’t wearing his cologne. I like it. A lot.
“Nico trusted you to get those answers. He never once doubted you,” my big, muscular brute murmurs.
I trace his lapels to his collar and dip my fingers underneath, needing the skin to skin.
“Serenity adores you and sees you as her sister. No blood tie needed.” He trails his thumb across my cheek before dropping it down to my lips and rubbing along the seam. “She chose you as Perla’s madrina. She wouldn’t like you feeling guilty for protecting her newborn,” he rumbles.
I suck his digit into my mouth and give him a gentle bite.
His pupils expand, shrinking his grey irises as I flick my tongue over the tip of his thumb.
“Fuck, Loretta, be careful, or I’ll pin you against the wall and fuck you in the elevator,” he growls.
I quirk a brow and smirk around his digit.
He pulls his thumb free and kisses me so thoroughly my worries fade away and he becomes the center of my universe. When he lifts his mouth away from mine, I rise onto tiptoes and chase him, but he nips my bottom lip and wraps his long, thick fingers around my throat.
“Thank you for the distraction, gattina. I needed that,” he murmurs.
After a moment of working through his words, my mind finally understands their meaning.
He’s nervous about meeting our goddaughter for the first time too, and even though my mini freak out had nothing to do with alleviating his conundrum, he takes the pressure off me with his heartfelt thanks.
I swallow and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back, and for a moment, we just stand there and enjoy each other.
“Alright, let’s go meet the newest addition to the Russo family,” I say.
I slip out from the corner and weave my fingers within his. He tugs me back into his arms and pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You said that wrong. Let’s go meet the newest member of our family,” he snarls.
“Of course. Whatever you say, il mio sovrano,” I respond in a high, overly sweet voice.
He smiles and turns me toward the hall. With a stinging swat to my ass, he urges me forward and silently promises to get his revenge later. I send him a skeptical look over my shoulder. He quirks a brow.
I ring the bell before he retaliates.
Even though they received a notification when we selected their floor in the elevator, Nico doesn’t open the door for a few moments, and one look at him is enough to explain why.
Baby vomit covers the entire front of his shirt. His mussed hair and stained pants have fared slightly better, but I never thought I’d see Nico Russo, the most ruthless mafia don in New York City, look so disheveled.
He waves us in and leads us straight to the kitchen for a thorough round of hand and arm washing. A small stack of dishes and some dirty bottles sit in the sink and several empty food containers lie on the counter, but the place is overall tidy.
After approving our clean hands, Nico nods and gestures for us to follow him down the hall to the master bedroom.
Serenity sits in the glider with a pink bundle in her arms. Her smile, although tired, is so full of joy tears burn the back of my eyes, and I can’t help but smile back at her.
Nico moves across the room and scoops her up as though she weighs nothing. He lowers her feet to the floor and wraps his arms under hers from behind, supporting the precious cargo as he looks at first Ermanno, then me.
His smooth voice demands our attention despite his gentle tone.
“Ermanno and Loretta Mancini, we would be honored if you would accept our daughter, Perla Russo, as your figlioccia,” Nico says.
Even though they already asked us, my breath hitches. A tiny fist pops out from the blankets. Serenity chuckles and folds the swaddle back, revealing the cutest, roundest little face I’ve ever seen.
Ermanno pulls me to his side. I float on numb feet as he guides me across the room. He tucks the blanket further back for a better view. His scarred, tatted hand seems gigantic next to her face. My heart threatens to burst when she wraps her tiny hand around his finger.
“We promise to protect, cherish, and guide her through all of life’s ups and downs,” he vows.
Emotions rush through me and I need so much more than words to convey how I feel, so I reach under Perla and splay my hand over the back of Serenity’s, trapping Nico’s arm with mine, and lean against Ermanno. Connecting us through touch, I brush my fingertip over Perla’s cheek and whisper the words thrumming through my heart.
“We’ll always be there for you. Always.”
Serenity sniffles and smiles at me with watery eyes. “Thank you, Loretta. Here,” When she passes her daughter to me, I fight a wave of panic. She’s so small and frail. “You said always, right? Well, I got her cleaned up for you, but I need a shower.”
“I’ve never held a newborn before! How do I—”
“You already are. I knew you’d be a natural. All those martial arts kept you in tune with your body, but if you’re not sure, you can sit.”
Ermanno helps me to the glider while Nico picks up his wife. His dark eyes check over his daughter, but he shows how much he trusts his consigliere by carrying Serenity into the bathroom without a backward glance.
For a few minutes, we sit in quiet awe, soaking in every precious moment with the new life nestled in my lap, but a deep longing rolls over me and I offer the baby to Ermanno.
He sits on the footrest and takes her with only a little awkwardness.
I always quietly yearned for children of my own, but as the curse of my family, I never thought I would have them, but with my big, bad mafia man cradling our goddaughter as though she’s the most precious and fragile thing in the universe, a wave of need grips me.
He’s too dark and sexy to be so trustworthy and supportive.
I want kids with him. As many as possible.
With wonder shining from his slate-grey orbs, he lifts his gaze to mine. As he studies my expression, hunger fills his eyes and wicked delight lifts his lips.
My stomach bottoms out. Lust clenches my core. I shift in my seat as need pulses through my clit.
He tucks Perla in the crook of his arm and reaches for me. I cup the back of his hand, marveling at the scars under my fingers, and nuzzle his palm as I place my hand on our goddaughter’s stomach.
“It looks like mia gattina needs another wedding.”
Confusion creases my brow. He leans forward, nips my bottom lip, and pulls back, mindful of the delicate life balanced in his arm.
“You were dripping my cum all day, weren’t you?”
Heat scorches my face as I follow his train of thought.
“You’re mine, gattina. I can’t wait to fill you up and watch your belly grow with our baby.”
His low, guttural voice stokes my need.
Perla hiccups and wriggles. We both look down as she waves her tiny fist at us. I lift my finger off her stomach, and she clamps around it with surprising force.
“I want that, Ermanno. I want kids of our own, but this is perfect, too. Let’s not rush it, okay?”
I don’t think I can handle more happiness. With my devoted mafia man, our goofy mini horse, an extended family, and budding friendships at my new workplace, I’m overwhelmed by how wonderful my life has become.
Emotions clog my throat. Tears trail down my cheeks.
Ermanno drops his forehead to mine and growls, “I’m yours, gattina. Use me however you need. I’ll always be by your side.”
I nod and cling to his hand, using him as a tether to reality as I weather an unexpected storm of emotions.
I’ll never be alone again. Never be shunned, never an outcast, never again be called a curse.
My lethal mafia man will always be there for me.
By the time I wipe the last tears from my face and take a deep breath, Nico carries Serenity out of the bathroom. Their eyes immediately seek their daughter, not because they doubt our ability to protect her, but because she’s their entire world.
Pride flows through me.
I chose wisely.
The Russo family will always be there for each other. Their love reaches deeper than the biological ties between them. They’ll never stray.
Nico settles Serenity against the headboard with a mountain of pillows behind her. She thanks him with a kiss before reaching onto the bedside table.
“I have a request. Well, two, actually,” Serenity says.
With her hair towel dried and a clean set of button-down pajamas dwarfing her frame, she looks so innocent and young my heart aches. The sorrow emanating from her eyes doesn’t match.
She holds two items out to me.
I take them and struggle to breathe past the lump in my throat. Perla’s hospital photo and a handwritten note from Nico and Serenity sit in an elegant frame. It’s addressed to Pops.
“Will you give this to him for us?” she asks.
The regret in her eyes speaks volumes. She missed his funeral because she was still in the hospital from giving birth. Nico only stopped by for a few minutes of the service, then rushed back to her side.
She must feel guilty over the timing. The doctors kept pushing her due date further back. If she’d given birth earlier, Pops could have met Perla, but no one can control these things. Words won’t ease the angst in her soul, so I give her a half hug and kiss her on both cheeks in the formal Italian greeting before wiping the tears from her face.
“Pops will love it. Thank you,” I say.
She takes a watery breath and hugs me back.
“The envelope is for Camilla. She agreed to watch your emergency footage to confirm if Viktor was there during her attack, but… will you stay with her for a while after she watches it?”
I nearly fall to the floor as she trusts me with her older sister. Almost a year ago, Camilla suffered an attack so brutal her parents forced Serenity to marry Nico instead of her. She currently lives in a facility upstate with top-notch care, but if Serenity wants me by her side, then that’s where I’ll be.
“Of course,” I say.
“Thank you, Loretta.”
With the heavy topics covered, we move to Perla and their journey of becoming new parents. Nico and Ermanno step out for a few minutes, probably to discuss work-related stuff, but they return rather quickly. When Serenity’s energy wanes, Ermanno and I say goodbye and leave Nico to settle his bride and baby down for a nap.
I shut the bedroom door behind us and set the envelope and picture frame on the corner of the counter before tackling the dishes in the sink.
Knowing Nico, he’s been doing all the cleaning himself to avoid having other people enter the home while they settle into their new life.
Ermanno follows my lead without a word, tidying the living room and sweeping the kitchen as I wash the empty food containers and wipe down the counters.
We fold the clean pile of clothes on the couch, put away the groceries, and take out the trash.
When I pick the frame up from the corner of the counter, Camilla’s envelope falls to the floor. Perla’s picture slips out. I tuck it back in and pause at the words on the front of the envelope.
For when you’re ready. Love, Serenity and Nico.
A band squeezes my ribs.
Is she upset Serenity married the man she was supposed to?
Or is it something way worse?
Ermanno wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my temple.
“If we don’t leave soon, the boss will come out instead of taking a nap with his wife and daughter,” he murmurs.
I nod, crane my neck for a quick kiss, and lead the way to the elevator.
As the doors close behind us, I lean against my kidnapper turned savior and marvel at the intricate twists and turns of life.
It doesn’t matter where the future leads us so long as we’re together.
I rise onto tiptoe and steal a quick bite above Ermanno’s collar. He digs his fingers into my hip, growls, and pierces my soul with his steely eyes.
“I love you, Ermanno,” I say.
His expression softens and hunger glints in his bottomless grey orbs.
“I love you, too, Loretta,” he vows.
When I rise onto tiptoes again, he pulls me against him and invades my mouth.
This is where I belong. With my big, bad mafia man. Mio marito. My favorite sparring partner. My kidnapper turned lover. Il mio sovrano.
Ermanno Mancini is mine.
Always.
