Page 215 of SINS & Riley
And him.
My eyes are heavy, my body spent, but I can’t look away. Dante rocks her against his chest like she’s sacred.
“When can I hold my little girl, baby hog?” I rasp.
He growls, but there’s a smile tugging at his mouth. “Tomorrow, if you keep it up.”
For one long, quiet minute we just stare—two wrecked people who somehow made something whole. We made her. The center of our universe.
My heart is so full I think it will break into a thousand shards of light. And love.
“Is it time for my surprise?” I ask, half-joking, half hoping.
“No. It’s time for the baby,” he teases.
He exhales, rolls up his sleeve, and my breath stops.
“For the first time in my life, I pulled the trigger,” he says.
Ink blooms along his forearm. A permanent tattoo. A serpent coiled around a skull, roses woven through the design. It’s dark and dangerous and achingly beautiful. Us.
My fingers tremble as I trace the lines.
“I left space,” he murmurs, fingertip brushing the roses. “For every kid we have. This one…” His voice drops, reverent. “This one’s Amelia’s.”
Tears burn hot. “How many kids are you expecting?” I ask, barely able to joke.
He shrugs, mouth crooked. “Standard football team.”
I snort, half-laugh, half-sob. “You’re going to need more than a tattoo if you expect me to birth a litter.”
His eyes glint. “Then you’d better set a date.”
I bite my lip because he doesn’t know I already have. Ricardo’s designing the dress.
The whole family’s in on it—Tuscany, Enzo and Kennedy’s estate—everything’s ready the second Amelia can travel.
Even Boris knows the plan. But Dante, the control-freak groom-to-be? Not a clue.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, playing coy.
“I want to make it official, Pom. Make sure the whole world knows who you belong to.”
My chest swells so big it hurts. Because he has no idea I already am his. He’s all mine.
He kisses me, soft and sure, then tucks our sleeping girl into my arms. “Maybe this will change your mind.”
And then he drops to one knee.
My throat closes, tears burning as I drink him in—his hair a dark, beautiful mess, stubble shadowing his jaw, every inch of him the perfect blend of both men I love.
“You are mine, Pom. No cages. No masks. Just us.”
He slips the ring onto my finger. Two rows of black diamonds, dark and dangerous, sweet as sin. So beautiful.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll get you any ring you want,” he says, voice rough with nerves. “But this… this was our story. It led me to you. To our new life. Our little girl.” His gaze flicks to our daughter, the tiniest piece of forever.
The dam inside me shatters. My vision blurs, chest burning with everything I never believed I could have.
