But watching Stella sleep in my arms, feeling Elena lean against me in exhaustion, I know we’ve won something more precious than any territory or power.
We’ve won our future.
And I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting it.
Over the next few hours, our hospital room fills with allies as reports confirm Anthony’s complete downfall. Siobhan arrives first, immaculate in Chanel and Christian Louboutins, not a single red hair out of place. She could have been heading to a board meeting rather than coordinating the takedown of one of the most dangerous families in New York.
“It’s done,” she reports, her designer suit somehow unblemished despite the night’s violence. “Every extraction specialist neutralized, every old guard faction either surrendering or eliminated. We’ve won.”
She studies Stella in my arms, her usual sharp edges softening fractionally. “Well,” she says, looking like the words physically pain her, “fatherhood makes you look human, DeLuca.”
I raise my eyebrows as Elena’s jaw drops. “Did you just compliment Mario?”
“Don’t read too much into it, Elena. It’s only because there’s a baby present.” Siobhan waves her hand dismissively. “That’s my one nice comment for the year.”
Elena presses a hand to her mouth to stifle her smile. “Would you like to hold her?”
I tighten my arms protectively around Stella, horrified at the thought of handing my precious daughter to the Irish queen. “Absolutely not,” I hiss to Elena.
Thankfully, Siobhan doesn’t look offended. Instead, her face scrunches in distaste. “I’ll pass. Children are not my area of expertise. Or interest.” She leans down to kiss Elena’s cheeks. “I’ll be in touch. We still have work to do.”
“Can I at least get maternity leave?” Elena asks hopefully.
Siobhan’s laugh echoes as she heads for the door, stilettos clicking against hospital tiles.
“I was serious about the maternity leave,” Elena tells me, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks at the doorway where Siobhan disappeared.
I snort, still cradling Stella like someone might snatch her. “The devil works hard, but Siobhan O’Connor works harder.”
There’s a knock at the door and Matteo pokes his head through—my brother looking exhausted but dangerous. His eyes linger on me holding Stella, something shifting in his expression as he watches me with his niece.
“Up for visitors?” he asks quietly, and I glance at Elena, who nods.
Matteo and Bella come into the room, Bella pushing a stroller with the twins. I hear Elena’s sharp intake of breath at the sight of the nearly five-month-old babies sleeping peacefully. Her hand flies to her mouth, tears already falling as she takes in the children she helped save but never got to meet.
I hand Stella back to Elena and take up position beside her bed, every protective instinct on high alert. Even though Matteo allied with us against Anthony, I’m not sure where we stand now that the threat is eliminated. If we’re back to being enemies, back to the exile and the don.
Matteo clears his throat, looking uncharacteristically awkward. “Anthony’s people are turning on him completely,” he tells us. “Offering up evidence of other operations, other crimes. They’re desperate to prove they’re not like him.”
Elena relaxes against me, but I refuse to move one inch. The tension in the room could stop hearts.
Bella shifts her weight, staring at Elena and Stella with an expression I can’t quite read. “You brought your babies,” Elena croaks out.
Bella nods, her hazel eyes filling with tears. “I thought…” She swallows hard. “I thought the twins should meet their cousin.”
The words hang in the air like possibility. Elena makes a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and suddenly Bella is moving forward, careful of the babies but unable to stay away any longer.
“I missed you,” she whispers, perching on Elena’s bed. “God, I missed you so much.”
“I’m so sorry,” Elena sobs. “For everything?—”
“I know.” Bella carefully hugs her around Stella. “I understand now. About impossible choices. About choosing love over tradition.”
Matteo and I eye each other across the hospital room, the weight of years pressing down between us. There’s too much history here, too many scars that won’t fade just because we fought on the same side tonight. His shoulders are tense, like he’s expecting a fight even now.
I gesture toward Elena and Bella, who are still crying and hugging. “Don’t worry,” I tell him dryly, “I won’t expect you to cry too.”
His laugh is sharp, cutting through the emotional atmosphere. “I’d never expect that much humanity from you, Mario.”