Page 9 of The Devil's Demise

“I told you boys not to wake them.” She shakes her head once we appear. “You two told me you were getting your trucks.” A smile grips the outer edges of her mouth.

“Tricked ya.” Gianni giggles, popping his head from my shoulder.

I swat him playfully on his behind.

“It’s okay,” Chiara says, giving her a hug before filling a mug with hot coffee and making one for me.

She takes a seat around the kitchen island while I drop both boys at the kitchen table.

“Morning, Sonia. Everything smells good.”

“Of course. Now eat, everyone, while it’s hot.”

“Grab a plate for yourself,” Chiara says. “Join us. You work too hard.”

She’s usually out the door, not wanting to encroach on our family time, but she fails to understand, no matter how many times we tell her, that sheisfamily. She’s been like a mom to us both, and like a grandma to our boys. I don’t know what we’d do without her.

“You sure?” Her brows furrow.

“Yes.” I plant a palm on her shoulder. “Please, sit. Let me serve you for once.”

“You’re a good boy.” She pats my cheek before she clears her throat and takes a spot next to Chiara.

I go to work, getting everyone food.

“How are you feeling, dear?” she asks Chiara.

“Better. I think the nausea has finally ended.”

“Oh, that’s great news. You poor thing ... all that sickness.”

She shakes her head as I place her food before her—pancakes, bacon, and a croissant she made from scratch. She spoils us.

Chiara was sick to her stomach for weeks, unable to keep anything down, so much so that she was put on meds, which seem to be working well.

“Daddy, is Mommy having another boy?” Gianni asks. “I don’t want a sister. She won’t like cars or trucks.”

“Yes, she will!” Frankie says. “I think it’s a girl. What about you, Daddy?”

“I don’t know, kid.” I hand them their plates with chocolate chip pancakes. “But Mommy and I don’t care. We will love him or her no matter what.”

I look at her then, and she gazes at me with a tender smile. My heart is full, and it’s a feeling I’ll never get sick of.

CHAPTER3

CHIARA

A little while later,while Sonia helps get the boys ready for the party, I stare at myself in the mirror while Dom is busy in the shower.

A red, skintight dress hits my knees, and the little baby bump is already making its appearance. I wonder if I’ll have a daughter. If we’ll have the kind of bond my mom and I once shared. Not to say I could never have it with my boys, but having a daughter ... I don’t know, it somehow would make me feel closer to my mom.

Being a mother is something I’ve always wanted. Having those boys gave me back something I had lost when I was shot. Something I was afraid I’d never get again. Every day before, I’d tried to convince myself I didn’t care each time I didn’t end up pregnant. I was afraid to hope. But even though it took time, I had my babies, and they’re everything I could have ever wanted.

When I lost the first baby, when the doctor told me the dreadful news, I was numb, on the outside at least. But inside, I was someone else. Someone I didn’t recognize. I had wanted that little baby so badly, and it had killed me to know my family had destroyed my chance of knowing that child. It took me a few months to truly mourn the loss, but the knowledge that I could have more ... that’s what saved me.

I recall the moment when the doctor came to see me after I woke from the surgery. I remember her white coat with that brown stain on her right sleeve, like she’d spilled coffee on it. I remember the way her thick brows bowed when she looked at me. And in that instant, I knew for certain. I wasn’t a mother anymore.

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