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“I don’t think it’s that,” Aria said quietly but firmly. She took my hand and I squeezed lightly in return. “We wanted to find out the sex of our baby today, if possible?”

Dr. Brightley nodded. “Please unbutton your dress and lie down on the bench. I can’t promise you anything since it’s still early.”

When the doctor began the ultrasound, I felt fucking nervous. I held Aria’s hand but my eyes were focused on the ultrasound screen. I didn’t see much at first, only unidentifiable shapes in gray and black which shifted constantly, but then suddenly a face became distinguishable. A perfect little face. Nose, ears, lips. Next the doctor showed us the hands, ten tiny fingers, and feet. I couldn’t believe a fully formed human, our child, was inside Aria. The doctor zoomed in on the area between the child’s legs and smiled. “I can’t be entirely sure until later in the pregnancy, but it looks like a girl.”

I almost sagged with relief. A girl. A little version of Aria. Not a boy who would harbor my darkness, a darkness I would have to encourage to help him survive in the Famiglia.

Aria squeezed my hand and I turned to her. She smiled. I gave her a small nod, feeling the eyes of the doctor on me. “It would be good if your wife got as much relaxation as possible. The baby is still growing but if she keeps losing weight, we might have to admit her to the hospital to be safe.”

I gave a terse nod. “She will gain weight, don’t worry.”We headed to our penthouse after the appointment. Aria was too tired for the hour-long drive back to the Hamptons, and I had a feeling she wanted to return to our apartment. She had spent almost all of her time in the Hamptons over the last few weeks.

I could tell how happy she was to be back as she strode out onto the rooftop and let her gaze glide over the skyline. I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, still stunned by her bump. “How about we order sushi and lounge on the couch?”

She gave me a look. “Sushi? Aren’t your forgetting something?” She rested her hand over mine.

I didn’t get it.

She laughed. “Men are so clueless. I’m not allowed to eat raw fish or raw meat, and it’s best not to order anything uncooked in case the restaurant doesn’t wash their products enough.”

“If I told them to wash them, they would, trust me,” I said. If something happened to Aria or our daughter because anyone messed up, I’d show them that monsters walked the Earth.

“I know.” She turned around in my embrace, touching my cheek. “My big bad mobster.”

I choked on a laugh. Aria was the only one who would joke about it. I leaned down, making my voice the deadly whisper I used when people displeased me. “I am bad, and worse, I am Capo.”

Aria shivered but definitely not from fear. She wrapped her arms around my middle and pressed her face against my chest. “God, I missed this.”

I stroked her silky hair then followed her spine down to the soft swell of her ass. She shivered again and moved even closer.

“You need to eat,” I said, even if my cock had other plans. She nodded, but didn’t move. “How about pasta? That can’t be bad for the baby, right?”

“Gnocchi à la Genovese for me,” she said without hesitation. “And perhaps one of those delicious almond cakes. You are ordering at Da Daniele’s?”

I smiled. “Of course.”Forty minutes later we settled on the couch in the living area with our ordered food, Aria in one of my white shirts, and I in only gray sweatpants and a shirt. I opened the boxes and spooned a small heap of gnocchi on Aria’s plate. “Do you want a bite of my ossobuco?”

She eyed the meat then quickly shook her head. “I don’t think I can eat it.”

I held her plate out to her and she took it and settled back against the couch, her bare legs tugged under her body. She smelled her food hesitantly. Watching her, I dug into my own dish.

Aria picked up the fork and took a bite of her gnocchi, then smiled. “It seems okay.”

I was finished with my main course, the focaccia and the tapenade before Aria had even eaten half of her plate and the box was still half full of gnocchi. Feeling my gaze on her, she glanced up. “You don’t have to watch me. I can eat.” She smiled to soften her words.

“Not enough,” I said. I stroked her knee. “Come on, principessa. Don’t make me force-feed you.”

She sighed. “I’m worried I’ll get sick if I eat too fast.”

“Perhaps you need to stop worrying about it.” I paused. “Was the doctor right? Did you feel sick because of our fight?”


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