Page 68 of Silent Vows

New life brings new possibilities, brother. But can you protect them all? -M

The threat ignites something primal in my chest. Five years ago, I’d found my daughter terrorized by a man who shared my blood. I remember lifting Bianca from that container, how light she felt in my arms, like all her usual spark had been drained away. The days that followed were worse—nightmares, panic attacks, her voice breaking as she told me what Mario had whispered to her: “Your father always thinks he can save everyone. Let’s see who he chooses to save this time.”

Now he threatens not just my daughter, but my wife and unborn child. The parallel makes me pull them both closer, breathing in Bella’s jasmine scent, feeling Bianca’s strength as she stands tall despite her fear. I won’t let history repeat. Won’t let Mario play his sick games with another generation of our family.

“Let me see,” Bella demands, reaching for my phone. Her face hardens as she reads the message, understanding its implications. “He’s threatening the baby. Our family.”

“He’s threatening everything,” I correct, pulling her closer. This is what Mario never understood—that real power comes from protecting what matters, not destroying it. “Mario wants what he’s always wanted—total control. And he knows the best way to get it is to strike when we’re vulnerable.”

“We’re not vulnerable,” Bianca says fiercely, joining our huddle. “We’re stronger together. He doesn’t understand that.”

Pride and fear war in my chest as I look at my girls—my fierce daughter who survived Mario’s games once before, my brilliant wife carrying our child, both of them ready to fight rather than run. The memory of Bianca in that warehouse haunts me still—how she’d clung to me afterward, whispering “Don’t let himtake me again, Daddy. Please.” I’d promised her then that Mario would never touch her again.

A promise I intend to keep.

“Antonio,” I bark, decision made. “Full lockdown of the compound. I want every possible entry point covered. And get me everything on Mario’s movements since he arrived back in New York.Now.”

“Already on it. But Boss…” Antonio hesitates, his hand tightening on his weapon in a way that speaks of old loyalties and older fears. “He’s not working alone. The explosives used in that package? They’re military grade. Someone with serious connections is backing him.”

“The Irish.” The pieces click together—the weapons, the timing, the precision of the surveillance. “That’s where he went after the exile. Built connections with the O’Connor family in Boston.”

“Which means we’re not just fighting Mario,” Bella realizes, her analytical mind already mapping the implications. “We’re fighting an entire organization that wants to take New York.”

“Let them try.” I move to my desk, pulling up building plans for all our key properties. The blue light from the screens casts shadows across the room, turning the smoke still curling through broken windows into ghostly figures. “Antonio, get the war room ready. Full briefing in one hour. We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

“And Elena?” Bella asks quietly. The worry in her voice makes my chest ache. “She could be in danger if Mario’s watching us all.”

“I’ll increase her security detail,” I assure her, though my heart clenches at how pale Bella looks, how one hand stays protectively over our child. “But right now, we focus on the immediate threat. Mario won’t wait long to make his next move.”

I pull both women close, breathing in their strength, their trust, their love. “We plan together,” I tell them, meeting Bella’s eyes, silently begging her to understand, “but when we move…” I can’t finish the thought. The idea of her in danger, of our child at risk, makes something primitive rise in my chest.

“We plan together, you execute,” she finishes for me. Her hand finds mine, squeezing once. “But Matteo?” Her voice hardens. “End this. Before he can hurt anyone else we love.”

“Oh, he’ll pay.” The promise of violence coats my words. “Mario wants to play games? Fine. But this time, we make the rules.”

I lose myself in building plans and security protocols, marking vulnerable points and potential threats. Time blurs as I study evacuation routes and safe houses, my mind racing through scenarios. Every detail must be perfect—I won’t risk my family’s safety because I overlooked something.

“Boss,” Antonio’s quiet voice breaks through my focus. “Mrs. DeLuca left about ten minutes ago. She seemed…unsettled.”

My head snaps up, guilt flooding my chest. With everything happening, I’d forgotten how this must be affecting her—newly pregnant, just finding happiness with our family, and now this threat hanging over us.

I find her in our bedroom, staring out the windows with her arms wrapped around herself. Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, and the sight breaks something in my chest. My fierce, strong wife finally letting her guard down.

“Come here,” I murmur, my voice low but steady as I hold out my hand. She hesitates for a moment before crossing the space between us, letting me pull her into my arms. She melts against me, her soft curves fitting perfectly against the hard planes of my body, as if she was made to be here.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” I promise, my lips brushing against her temple. “Or Bianca. Or anyone. I’ll protect you all. Always.”

Her hands clutch at my shirt, her fingers twisting the fabric as if anchoring herself. “I know,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “But we just found this happiness, Matteo. Found each other, this family we’re building. And now…”

Her voice breaks, and I can’t stand to hear the pain in it. I cup her face, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze, before silencing her with a kiss. It starts soft, a gentle reassurance, but the fear and need bubbling between us quickly turn it into something fiercer.

Her lips part beneath mine, and I deepen the kiss, pouring every ounce of my love and desperation into it. She meets me with equal intensity, her fingers sliding into my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan. Her mouth is warm and demanding, all teeth and tongue and promises, and I lose myself in her.

“I choose you,” I breathe against her mouth. “I choose this family. Like I did five years ago with Bianca, like I do every day since you walked into my office.” My hand splays over her stomach, where our miracle grows. “Mario never understood that real power comes from protecting what matters, not destroying it. I’ll protect you and this baby with my life.”

Her lips crash into mine again, stealing the rest of my words. Her hands slide down my chest, tugging at my shirt until she pulls it free. Her touch is urgent but tender, her nails raking lightly over my skin as if she can’t bear to leave any part of me unexplored.

I lift her into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the bed. Her breath hitches when I lower her onto the soft sheets, and I pause, taking a moment to admire her. The golden light catches in her hair, her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and she’s breathtaking.

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