My tiny human cooed as I wrestled him into tiny clothes. He had a head of dark hair, his skin was all pink, and downy baby hair covered his body. I wasn’t sure if that was a sign that he was going to be as hairy as his dad.
“Do you need help?” Martha asked after packing all our stuff alongside a slew of baby gifts. It had been two days since I had given birth and I was ready to go home.
“No, all done,” I said. I planted Elias into the infant seat that Luca brought in this morning.
“What do you want to do with all the flowers?” she asked.
“Just leave them here. I told the nurse to donate them to charity care.”
Luca walked in. “Ready, baby?”
Tony, who was behind him, took our things from Martha and signaled for her to leave with him.
“Depends on which baby you’re referring to?” I gave a slight smile.
Luca’s eyes grew alert, and he took tentative steps toward me and our son. “You.” He searched my face. “I—”
“I don’t want to talk about the other night. I don’t want you to apologize either because, given the same circumstances, you would have done the same.”
“It was a fucked-up situation,” he said, and then added quickly, “Not the birth of our son.”
“Listen, before we go home, I want to set my own expectations, and I hope you’ll give me this,” I said.
“I only want what’s best for you and Elias,” he responded quickly.
“I’m going to sleep in the nursery—”
“Except that,” he responded more quickly.
“You should be relieved that you don’t have to do nighttime duties.”
“We could hire a nanny.”
“No. We have Martha and Nessa.”
“Nessa is mute. I’m not sure we could consider her reliable care.”
“I trust her more than a stranger.”
Elias started crying. We both stared at him.
“See, our boy senses that what you’re suggesting is wrong,” my husband told me.
Glaring at Luca, I bent over our son, unstrapped him, and picked him up.
“I was told that it’s not a good idea to pick him up whenever he cries.”
“He’s two days old, Luca. Don’t compare him to yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
I turned away from him, bouncing my son gently in my arms while I looked out the window. “Manipulative.” I faced him. “The truth is, I feel like I must protect him from you.”
“You think I would do something to hurt our boy?”
“You’ve hurt his mother.” My voice caught, and then I shook my head. “I know. You’re probably wondering now if you’ve married someone too young or who has her head too much in the clouds.”
He took a step toward me, dark eyes intense. “I married someone perfect for me. She just doesn’t feel it yet.”
I didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. Did he mean I should just get with the program?
His eyes scrutinized me some more before he sighed. “Let’s get you home.”
It didn’t take long for Luca to see the logic of my rooming with Elias. After two weeks of Elias screaming his head off in the middle of the night, denying both parents of sleep, Luca relented.
“I don’t know how a tiny thing could have lungs that could scream the house down,” he groaned.
I pushed up on my elbows. “Are you or am I going to check on him? If I am, I’m going to bring him in here.”
He rolled on his back and threw an arm across his forehead. “I need to get up in a few hours. Could you do it?”
Figured. Couldn’t say I didn’t see this coming.
I was at the door when he added, “Please consider hiring a nighttime nanny. I don’t want you exhausted.”
Fuck you, Luca. I left the room without answering. In the hallway, I saw Nessa.
“I’m sorry he woke the entire house,” I said.
Nessa shrugged and signed. He’s a baby.
She tipped her chin to our bedroom.
“He said he needs to get up in a few hours.”
She shook her head, and I emitted a short, derisive laugh. We entered the bedroom together.
“You have strong lungs, my boy, and ooh.” I scrunched my nose. “What is that smell?”
Nessa helped me change diapers. Not that I wasn’t becoming an expert at it.
I settled into the full-sized bed equipped with a side crib.
“You can go back to sleep,” I told Nessa.
She signed. Are you sure?
“We’ll be fine. Thank you.”
She nodded.
When Elias started fussing again, I gave him the pacifier. This time, he settled down and finally slept. Exhausted, I followed him into slumber.
Time flew when you had a newborn, and you couldn’t tell your waking moments from the sleeping ones. Luca tried again to get me to sleep in our room, but I told him it was better for Elias if I stayed with him in the nursery, at least for the first few months. I didn’t know why he wanted me there anyway since I frequently smelled of breast milk and baby vomit. He also insisted again on hiring nannies. This last time, he must have lost patience and went on a tirade—which I ended zoning out half of what he said because I was sleep-deprived—but he ended with “…stop acting like a martyr.”
I stared at him for a beat before saying, “Shut up, Luca.” Then I turned around and left the conversation. He let out a string of profanities I ignored. Ever since the birth of my baby, we never had the chance to talk about anything deeper than Elias’s daily routine. How he was breastfeeding, how he was sleeping, how he was pooping.
One could say I was operating on autopilot, and the most feeling I got was when my breasts were too full of milk.
I’d totally cut off whatever bond Luca and I had created in favor of one with Elias. I wasn’t sure if we even had a lasting one. It certainly wasn’t strong enough for me to feel anything viscerally. I really wondered if we’d lost something that night Luca failed to show up for Elias’s birth.
My parents arrived the night before, and my mother wasted no time siding with Luca.
“Honestly, Nattie, why did you move out of your bedroom?”
“Because Elias needed me more, and it’s tiring to make the trip to the nursery when I can just roll over and put a pacifier in his mouth.”
“Yes, but you’re giving other women the opportunity to slip into your place.”
We were in the living room. Elias was four weeks old, happily sleeping in the bassinet and happily unaware of the adults in the room. It was the first night I felt human. At least my parents’ visit affected me enough to look presentable instead of ignoring the baby spit on my shoulder.
Mamma, to her credit, helped look after Elias and gave me time to shower. I even had time for a long nap.
Martha and Nessa were running around, preparing for the first dinner party since I married Luca. It was to welcome Papà and to celebrate the birth of my son. I told Luca he was crazy, and I didn’t have the patience to entertain guests right now. He said to leave it up to him.
I wondered why we hadn’t entertained since we got married, but I figured it had something to do with his trips to Chicago. He’d done enough entertaining there for sure. I hated how my mother’s words made me insecure all over again, and I wished I could just avoid her. But I couldn’t.
“I can’t have sex with him for another two weeks anyway. I don’t even feel remotely sexy.”
Mamma’s nostrils flared when I mentioned sex. I inwardly smirked. I wasn’t an innocent anymore.
“I’m just saying,” she huffed. “Even married, your husband is considered a prime catch. He’s one of the youngest bosses of such a powerful organization, not to mention he’s handsome. There are many women willing to keep him warm at night and be his mistress.”
“Mamma, please stop talking. I’m too exhausted to even care.”
“You say that now.” Her voice pitched low. “But when those bastards start to appear and challenge your son’s legacy…then you’ll care.”
Carmine walked in. I was never more relieved to see him. “Why haven’t you come around to see me?”
I rose and ran toward him, although I was probably trying to get away from Mamma. He gave me a hug and an affectionate peck on the cheek. “Chicago was busy.”
“So, you’re the one keeping my husband occupied?” I teased.
“It was tough…” He looked at Mamma. “But we have cause to celebrate now. Vincenzo wants you to bring Elias to the study.”
“Oh, you guys are done with the business talk?”
“The Russians are appeased for now.”
“Well, I hope it’s forever.” I sighed. It was nice having Luca home. We had a weird normal going. I guess it made sense that he was not sleep-deprived when he had mafia business to conduct.
When we entered the study, Papà turned toward us, and a smile broke across his face.
“Ah, you look beautiful, Natalya.” He locked me in his arms. “I was worried when I saw you last night.” He glanced at Luca. “I was afraid your husband wasn’t taking care of you and my grandson.”
“Vincenzo, you know how hard it is in the first few months. Natalya was a difficult baby too,” Mamma told everyone. “She was colicky.”
“I wouldn’t know, amore mio. All I saw was my little angel.” He bent over and picked up Elias who was awake but quiet. My son was looking at Papà intently. “You recognize your nonno, eh? He’s heavy.” Papà looked at me. “He’s going to be a big, strong man.”
Elias was a greedy baby. I was having a hard time keeping up with him. My eyes met Luca’s across the room. His jaw was clenched and I was taken aback by the way he was scowling at Papà.
“Now you see why Luca worked so hard on that Santino deal?” Carmine asked.
“Carmine,” Dario said in a warning tone that made me pay attention. We were past the small talk.
“What?” Carmine’s eyes landed on me. “Surely you know.”
“What do I need to know?”
Luca came to my side and gripped my elbow. “Nothing. Baby, why don’t you—”
I yanked my arm away. “Wait a minute. What do I need to know?”
“It’s nothing,” Papà said as if it truly was nothing, and continued to rock Elias around. “But I’m sad you don’t get to come live with your nonno when you turn eight.”
I was still confused, or maybe it was the lack of sleep. “Please explain.” I was looking at Luca, but he was not looking at me. He was skewering Carmine with the most scathing stare, and the rush of pebbles weighed down in my gut.
Carmine scratched the back of his head. “It’s of no consequence now.”
“I will decide if it’s of no consequence.” My voice rose shrilly.
“Relax, dear daughter,” Papà said. “It was a stupid bet. The one men make when they are drunk. Luca had too much scotch, and he said he could get the Russians to cave, that he’d even bet his firstborn.”
“It was not a serious bet,” Luca said.
Papà raised a brow at Luca. “Yes, but we did talk about it the next day. How it would be beneficial if you and Natalya give me a male heir? Oh, don’t look like that, Natalya. We are all family. The Galluzo is your legacy. Imagine your son running it one day.”
“What is this about living with you when he turns eight?”
My father shrugged. “He can come visit.”
“That’s not what you really meant.” I turned to Carmine. “Tell me the truth.”
“Vincenzo has grand plans for his grandson,” Carmine said. “It would be ideal to expose him to the organization at a young age.”
“I don’t see why that’s so bad,” Papà said. “Don’t you want to restore the Galluzo to prestige again? That will happen with Elias.”
“What if that’s not what I want for my son?” I shook my elbow free from Luca and took Elias from Papà’s arms and backed away from everyone in the room.
“Our son,” Luca corrected, taking a tentative step toward me. “I handled the Santino problem. That was the deal.”
I cocked my head and shot him a warning look not to come closer.
“And if it wasn’t? What will happen?”
“Then I’d die trying,” he snapped. I shrank further away from them.
Instant remorse crossed Luca’s face when he realized he’d lost his temper, and he tried to soften his expression. “Baby,” he said. “I would never let Elias go. It was your father’s wishful thinking.” He cast my father a pointed look. “Tell her, Vincenzo.”
“Sì. Sì.” Papà rocked back on his heels and cast me a sheepish grin. “Wishful thinking of an old man past his prime. Come on, bombolina.” He smiled his father’s smile that used to make me feel like the princess of his kingdom. Then it hit me. It was because he was rarely around, but when he was, he made me feel like I was his most treasured possession. It was exactly the way Luca ruined me by giving me Paris. Seeing both men standing side by side, I realized that I’d been manipulated all my life. And that didn’t include what my mother had done.
The change in my expression caused an alarmed one to descend on Luca’s face.
Yes, my dear husband, I was seeing another layer of this marriage and it was making me sick to my stomach. My baby and I had been pawns this whole time.
Mamma, who’d been quiet until now, inserted herself between us. “Is it so bad if we raised Elias? Many parents would be happy to have the help of the grandparents.”
“In my old age, I’m slowing down,” Papà added. “I would like to play with my grandchildren.” He looked at Luca. “Kinda like Don Corleone in his old age, huh?”
“Real life is not like the movies,” I said, but my eyes were on Luca. He flinched. “I’ve learned that the hard way.”
Taking Elias, I left the room.
I heard Papà ask someone, “What did she mean?”
