Page 39 of Crimson Reign

I glance at the faint stain on my cuff. “Other priorities.” I nod to my father, standing quietly with Don Vincenzo across the room.

Isabella’s eyes narrow. “Something has happened, hasn’t it? Something big.”

“Your brother has had an eventful day,” Elena adds gently, squeezing Isabella’s hand. “As have I.”

My father catches my eye and nods. It’s time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say, my voice carrying over the crowd. The room falls silent. “Tonight, we honor my father’s leadership.”

I step beside him, the signet ring gleaming. “Today, before the Commission, my father stepped down as Don. After thirty years, he passes this legacy to me.”

A murmur of surprise and approval runs through the hall.

My father steps forward. “My son has proven himself in every challenge. Under his leadership, our enemies have fallen, our alliances strengthened, and our future secured.” Turning to me, his pride is unmistakable. “The Commission recognizes him as Don Bellanti. I ask you all to do the same.”

Don Vincenzo raises his glass. “To Don Matteo Bellanti—may your reign bring prosperity.”

Glasses rise in acknowledgment as I incline my head in acceptance, feeling the weight of loyalty and expectation.

“I am honored,” I say simply. “And one more announcement makes this night even more significant.”

I extend my hand to Elena. She approaches with Fiona on her hip. “Elena,” I announce loudly, “has agreed to stand with me as Donna Bellanti—to be my wife, my partner, and the mother of my children: Fiona, and the child she now carries.”

Her hand finds mine as murmurs sweep the crowd. “I hope I have your blessings.”

“To The Bellantis!” Lorenzo yells, holding up his champagne glass.

“To The Bellantis!” The room roars.

Hours later, after endless congratulations and conversations, Elena and I escape to our private wing. She kicks off her heels, removes her earrings, and remarks, “Don Bellanti suits you.”

I remove my jacket and reply, “Donna Bellanti suits you, though you’ve filled that role unofficially for months.”

She smiles and unpins her hair, letting it fall in soft waves. “The women know it. The men are still catching up.”

I cross to her, my hands resting on her waist. “How are you feeling? The baby—”

“Is perfect,” she assures me, leaning back against me. “Just making his presence known with morning sickness.”

I caress her still-flat abdomen protectively. “A boy, do you think?”

She teases, “Does the mighty Don have a preference?”

“Only that they’re healthy and have your eyes,” I answer honestly.

She laughs softly. “You say that now, but I’ve seen how you are with Fiona. Soon, you’ll be wrapped around our baby’s finger.”

I can’t deny it. Fiona changed something in me the moment Elena placed her in my arms. The fierce protectiveness I’ve always felt for my family now extends to this tiny being—even if not by blood.

A soft knock interrupts. Elena answers and returns with Fiona.

“The nanny said she couldn’t sleep. Mind if she sleeps with us?”

“She’s my daughter too, Elena. You don’t have to ask.”

“Come here honey,” I coo and carefully take her from Elena, placing her on the bed, in between her mother and I.

Minutes later, in darkness, Elena’s hand finds mine, and she murmurs, “You were attacked by Massimo’s men at the commission, weren’t you?”

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