I didn’t know and I wasn’t sure if there was even a way, if I would even try going the gentle route. Maybe I wouldn’t feel the same hesitation, the same revulsion when thinking about hurting him, as I did with Aria and Marcella. When I looked at them, at their innocent faces, I couldn’t imagine hitting them, or worse. The idea of inflicting pain on my daughter or my wife made me sick to my stomach while inflicting pain on other people had always only brought me joy.
“What are you thinking?” Aria asked softly.
I drew my eyes away from the traffic, realizing I hadn’t reacted to her earlier comment, too lost in my whirring thoughts. “Just about how it’s going to be with a boy.”
“It’s going to be all right.” She squeezed my thigh and I put my hand on hers. “Have you thought about a name for him? With Marcella, you wanted your grandmother’s name, so I wondered if you want to do the same with a boy.”
“Name him after my father or grandfather? After men who tortured their children and wives?” I released a dark laugh. Those names would never be part of our family again. They’d died with their despicable owners.
“Well, I don’t want to name our son after my father or grandfather either.”
“We’ll find a name for him that doesn’t carry the baggage of the past,” I said.LucaIt was way past midnight when Matteo and I entered the elevator in our building. We’d tracked down a gun depot of Tartarus MC in Jersey and burned it to the ground. Despite my hit to their chapter three years ago they were still being a pain in our asses.
Their cooperation with the Russians was shaky but they still had us as their common enemy.
Matteo yawned as he leaned against the mirrored wall. “Any luck on your house hunt?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. Most houses with a yard are too far out of the city.”
“Aria will pop out your kid soon so you better find something.”
“Still two months to go,” I muttered, but he was right. We’d been looking for a new home for us for three months now. The penthouse was too small for us and two kids, and they needed a yard where they could play, even if Aria and her sisters spent the weekends and the summers in the Hamptons.
The elevator stopped on Matteo’s floor and he left with a wave. I felt drained when I entered the penthouse, and the stench of burned wood hung in my nose.
A noise on the stairs made me tense, my hand going to my holster out of habit.
“Dad?” Marcella’s small voice carried through the dark. I lowered my arm and headed for the stairs where I found my daughter perching on the last step, rubbing her eyes. I squatted before her and she opened her arms wide. “Hold me.”
I picked her up and her small arms wrapped around my neck. “Why are you down here?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“Why didn’t you join your mom in bed?”
“I did, but you weren’t there… I wanted to wait for you.”
My heart swelled and I kissed her forehead. “I’m here now.”
She nodded in the crook of my neck. “Where were you?”
“At work, princess.”
“You smell like smoke.”
Fuck. Good thing I didn’t come home covered in blood today. That was something Marcella didn’t need to see. Eventually she would understand what I did but not yet. I didn’t want to taint her innocence so soon. “We had a bonfire.”
“Can we have one too?” she said in her soft, high voice.
Fuck.
I chuckled. “Next time we’re in the mansion.”
“Okaayy,” she murmured, her body already going soft. I carried her upstairs into the nursery and put her into her bed then covered her with her pink bedding. Her entire room was a girl’s dream of rose and white with unicorn drawings on the walls. Five years ago, I’d have never thought that any room in my penthouse would ever look like that. After a kiss on her forehead, I walked into the master bedroom.
The moon illuminated Aria’s sleeping form. As usual, she was turned toward my side. I quickly undressed and put on new boxers before I crept into bed. Aria had stuffed the blankets under her belly while her breastfeeding pillow was wedged between her legs. I supposed I’d sleep without covers again. Smiling, I pressed a soft kiss to her protruding belly then halted when I felt a small kick. My boy.
I lightly rested my forehead against Aria’s baby bump, marveling at the small wonder growing inside of her.
“Luca?” Aria whispered sleepily.
I lifted my head, kissed her mouth and stretched out beside her. Reaching around her, I carefully pulled her as close as her belly allowed. She pressed her forehead against my chest then kissed the skin lightly. “Bad day?” she asked, her voice drowsy and her breathing slow and even.