“Repeat this,” I said, my voice full of gravel. I had to be sure whatever was going on inside of my mind was not playing tricks on me. If it was, I would carve my own mind out and feed it to the pigs.
Her smile lit up the dim room. “I’m pregnant! You’re going to be a papà again. I’m going to be a mamma!”
I lifted her off her feet while she laughed and cried, and I carried her inside of our home to celebrate, damning the world to hell if it tried to steal what I had longed for my entire life.
My wife, and the second chance I had been given at life.
Chapter 29
There's Never a But in Love
Aria Amora
September. I was due in September with an autumn baby. I hadn’t even missed my period yet. I just had this strong feeling suddenly that I wasn’t alone on the inside, and I asked the doctor to confirm with a blood test. He’d gotten the results in hours. The last name Fausti made people hustle. In that situation, I wasn’t mad at it.
I wasn’t sure why, but a heart feeling told me the baby was going to be a girl. Even though the odds were for a boy, as Faustis usually had all boys, something told me we were going to have a daughter. A spicy little meatball.
I grinned as I looked at my stomach. It was still flat, but I was already imagining how much it was going to grow with our baby inside. Rocco set his hand over my stomach, grinning too, and then he leaned in and kissed me.
“My wife is going to be a mamma.” His smile was as broad as the sun burning away the fog.
“I’m so excited.” I smiled. “I can’t wait to see you with our baby. To see your sons with a new brother or sister.”
His face shut down at that, and he moved to the window, staring out of it. It was because of Massimo and all that was going on between the two of them. Massimo had been backto the property without telling Rocco. I understood the Fausti family had a way of doing things, but I didn’t like how it put miles between Rocco and his sons at times. Just like it had put miles between Luca and his sons.
A daughter of the blood, though? Protected at all costs. And spoiled. But even so, every woman of the blood I’d met was extraordinarily levelheaded.
Aunt Lola.
Mia.
Two.
That was the only women of the blood I’d ever met. The rest either came before, or I hadn’t heard of them. All men. It had to be unusual to have all those sons—then again, the Fausti family wasn’t normal by any means.
I folded a pair of boxers for Rocco and set them in his suitcase. Luca insisted on taking a family vacation to Switzerland, where Rocco and his family often frequented in the winter. Rocco had agreed. I knew it made him feel safe to have me away from the property. The incident with him the night before weighed heavily on his mind. He still couldn’t remember anything after the drive from Lucca to Piemonte. I was worried about him and glad we were leaving for a while, at least until the doctor tested the bottle and we knew more.
Ermanno had told me he felt it was the witch, as he called her, and I couldn’t say I disagreed. That was another reason I wanted to know if I was pregnant or not before the usual time. The witch had been on my mind, and I wanted to know if I had a little life to protect.
I stilled with another pair of boxers in my hands. When the angry mob had been pelting me with rotten and fresh fruit, my leg had come up to protect my stomach. It was like my heart and body already knew.
Amazing how Mother Nature worked.
Rocco’s sons came to mind, and maybe because I knew how it felt to not be wanted by my mamma, my heart broke for them. I also knew Rocco was raising his sons how he had been raised—if not, one of them might find himself on the wrong side of a sword, but…maybe Rocco could find a way to make them feel…more than the family name when it was just the three of them?
Even thoughTizianohad not been Rocco’s son, he had raised him as his own knowing he wasn’t, and that situation didn’t end well. Tiziano had been killed on the ship that was coming to attack us on the island. Rocco was quiet about the hurt, but it made me think…life is too short for bad blood, especially between parents and their children.
I kept my eyes down and my voice level when I said the next words. “We should invite him to dinner.”
Rocco was still staring out the window, watching as the fog drifted by in thick clouds. “Who is he,” he said, his voice in the distance. He had a lot on his mind, it seemed.
“Massimo. Amadeo. Ludovico. Maybe not all at once. We see Amadeo and Ludovico often enough. Maybe…maybe Massimo needs a little time for himself with you.”
“He has not come to see me.” His voice was curt.
“I know,” I whispered. “I…I didn’t go to see my parents either, Rocco.”
“Your parents do and did not deserve you.”
