Page 31 of Lured By the Cartel

Lucas

I watched Marco pace the nursery at three in the morning, holding Alessandro while trying to get him back to sleep. Matteo, thankfully, remained peaceful in his crib. It was rare for only one of them to be awake, but tonight we got lucky.

"Shh, piccolo," Marco whispered, his usually commanding voice soft and uncertain. It was strange seeing him like this—the feared cartel boss reduced to a sleep-deprived father in sweatpants, dealing with a fussy baby. I never thought I would see the day.

His phone buzzed on the dresser for the fifth time in the last hour. I knew he was itching to check it, but his hands were full with our son. The constant notifications had become our new normal. Ever since the twins were born, it seemed like every rival organization thought it was the perfect time to test Marco's resolve. Still, he remained strong every time.

"Just check it," I said softly, sitting up in the rocking chair. "I can take him."

Marco shook his head, stubborn as always. He never changed, no matter what. "No, I need to learn this. I can'talways..." He trailed off as Alessandro started fussing louder. The phone buzzed again, and I saw Marco's jaw clench in frustration.

"Come here," I stood up, holding out my arms. "You need to handle whatever that is before it gets worse, and you know I'm right."

He hesitated, and I saw the conflict in his eyes—the same one I'd been watching for weeks now. Marco wanted to be present, to be the father he never had, but his other responsibilities weren't going away. If anything, they were increasing, and I hated that. I couldn't do anything about it, though.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, carefully transferring Alessandro to my arms. "I just need to check-"

"I know," I assured him, settling back into the rocking chair. "Do what you need to do. I won't hold it against you."

Marco grabbed his phone, his face immediately hardening as he read the messages. I watched the transformation – from uncertain father to ruthless cartel boss in mere seconds. His shoulders straightened, jaw set in a firm line. It scared me a little, even though I knew that he would never hurt me.

"The Colombians are pushing again," he growled under his breath. "They think because I'm home more now, I'm getting soft."

Alessandro whimpered, and Marco immediately lowered his voice, though I could still see the tension radiating from him. He looked torn between the door and us, stuck between two worlds that seemed increasingly difficult to balance.

"They hit one of our shipments," he continued, typing rapidly on his phone. "Third time this month. I need to-"

He was cut off by Matteo suddenly waking up with a piercing cry, startling his brother into crying as well. The cacophony ofwailing babies filled the room, and I saw Marco flinch, his hand tightening around his phone.

Someday, things would be different. Someday, he wouldn't have to choose between the cartel and his family.

"Fuck," he hissed, running his free hand through his hair. "I can't... I need to handle this, but I should help you first, I should-"

"Marco," I interrupted, already standing to reach Matteo. "Go. Handle what you need to handle."

"I'm their father," he argued, even as his phone buzzed again. "I should be able to..."

"I know you are their father," I assured him, somehow managing to balance both crying infants. "But you're also the head of the Nightshade Wolves. Nobody expects you to be perfect at both immediately. I know I don't."

He stood there, looking more lost than I'd ever seen him. Marco Rossi, the man who could order hits without blinking, who controlled half the city's criminal enterprises, completely undone by two tiny babies and their needs. I never thought I would see the day.

"I don't want them to think I'm choosing the business over them," he admitted quietly, watching as I settled back into the chair with both boys. "I don't want them to grow up like I did, with a father who was never there. I want things to be different and better."

"They won't," I promised. "Because you're here now, trying. That already makes you different."

His phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. Marco closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, I saw the resolve there.

"I need to make some calls," he said, already moving toward the door. "But I'll be in my office. If you need anything-"

"I know where to find you," I finished for him. "Go show the Colombians why they shouldn't mistake your dedication to family for weakness."

A dangerous smile crossed his face—the one that reminded me exactly who I'd mated with. "Oh, they'll learn. I'll make sure of it."

He paused at the door, looking back at us one last time. The twins had started to quiet down, their cries softening to whimpers. Thank goodness, I thought. I loved them, but there was no denying that they were complicated to deal with.

"I love you," he said softly. "All of you. Everything I do, every person I threaten, every move I make—it's all to keep you safe."

"We know," I replied, meeting his eyes. "Now go be the boss so you can come back to being Papa."

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