ARIA
When everyone left and Luca and I were alone with Marcella again, he walked over to us and peered down at Marcella in her crib. He looked at her like he wanted to touch her, to hold her, but he didn’t allow himself to do so. I stood. “I’m going to the bathroom. Will you watch Marcella?”
Luca nodded slowly but his eyes flickered with worry. Moving was still difficult, so it took a while for me to walk upstairs into our bathroom. Everything took longer, and I was washing my hands when I heard Marcella’s cries. I hurried out but stopped in the doorway of our bedroom, peering through the gap down at Luca, who was hovering next to the crib.
I wasn’t sure how to make him see that he wouldn’t hurt her.
“Aria?” he called and I hid behind the door, waiting.
My gut wrenched at Marcella’s cries. It took all my willpower not to run for her and cradle her in my arms.
“It’s okay,” Luca said softly.
I risked another glance downstairs.
Luca still stood over the crib, staring down at it like it was going to kill him. I was on the verge of walking down, of interfering and calming Marcella, when finally he reached down. He had watched me lift her. He hesitated then he lifted her from the crib, supporting her small head with his strong fingers the way I always did it. She looked tiny against his strong hands. He cradled her in the crook of his arm, then stroked her cheek with his index finger. My heart burst with so much love, it was almost painful.
“Shhh, princess, shhh. Everything is okay.” She quieted, big eyes trying to focus on him. “God, you are so small,” he whispered, his finger brushing over her small hand and tiny fingers.
“See,” I said, walking onto the landing. “You didn’t break her.”
He looked up then frowned. “You set this up.”
“I didn’t set it up. Marcella cries whenever she wants. But I chose not to go to her like I usually would.”
I walked down the stairs slowly, and Luca moved toward me, holding out his free hand to support me. My heart swelled as I put my palm over Luca’s arm holding our baby. “She enjoys being in your arm.” His gaze moved back down to our daughter.
LUCA
Marcella’s cries pitched higher as she flailed in the crib. Aria was still upstairs, but she needed to calm down our daughter.
“Aria?”
She didn’t reply and Marcella kept wailing, her face scrunched up, arms and legs twitching. Fuck. My heart tore from her cries.
Holding my breath, I reached into the crib, carefully slid my hand under Marcella, making sure my fingers supported her head, and I lifted her out. She was so small in my palms. I cradled her in the crook of my arm and ran my thumb along her soft cheek. “Shhh, princess, everything is okay.” She quieted, blinking up.
“See, you didn’t break her,” Aria said as she appeared at the top of the stairs.
I hadn’t and I wouldn’t.
Aria joined us downstairs. I’d never seen her happier than in this moment as she watched me with Marcella. I wrapped my free arm around her, pulling her against my side, and she gave me that gorgeous slow smile. “See, your darkness didn’t rub off on me and it hasn’t rubbed off on her, Luca. Marcella will see you as I see you, as someone who holds her when she needs him to, someone who loves her and protects her.”
“You make me human, Aria,” I said quietly.
Her brows drew together. “Don’t say that. You are human.”
I smiled darkly. “If anyone ever dares to hurt you or Marcella, they won’t see my human side.”
Aria nodded. “Nobody will ever get the chance to hurt us, Luca.”
She was right. I’d move Heaven and earth to guarantee her safety. Being at war with the Outfit would make this harder. I had the Outfit and the Bratva to watch, not to mention local MCs who kept giving my Underbosses trouble in the Southeast. But my biggest concern was becoming the Camorra in Las Vegas.
I had to make sure the Outfit didn’t start working with the Camorra, or things would get messy. Yet as long as Benedetto Falcone kept killing his Underbosses, Dante would regard him as too volatile, and without continuity in his ranks, Benedetto lacked the necessary focus to set his sights beyond his borders. But who could say how long that would last? Remo Falcone had disappeared but I knew he was out there, and one day he’d make himself known in the West. He wouldn’t give me trouble again, not until he’d killed his father and become Capo, but then all bets would be off. He’d sized me up. He was still young and had nothing to lose, but he forgot I had something worth fighting for. Perhaps his father would take him off my hands and dispose of his son before that.
