I look at my sister, seeing the shadows still lingering in her eyes despite her brave smile. Her recovery will take time, but she's fighting. My fierce lupacchiotta, always stronger than anyone gives her credit for.
I clear my throat again, meeting each person's eyes before continuing.
"Some of you already know this, but I wanted to share with everyone at once." My hand slides from Zoe's shoulder to rest over her stomach, still flat beneath her dress. "Zoe is pregnant. We're going to have a baby."
Alessio's eyes widen slightly before his face breaks into a rare, genuine smile.
"Congratulations, boss," Noah says, raising his glass.
Enzo's expression softens, and he nods once, the gesture carrying more weight than words could.
Daniel remains stoic by the door, but I catch the slight upward curve of his mouth.
"We're keeping the Feretti name strong," I add,unable to keep the pride from my voice. "A new generation."
I raise my glass, and everyone follows suit. "To family," I say, the simple toast carrying the weight of everything we've survived.
"To family," they echo.
Enzo snorts into his wine. "Never thought I'd live to see my brother looking so domestic."
"Fuck off," I say, but there's no heat in it. "Jealous I beat you to it?"
"Please," Enzo rolls his eyes. "Unlike you, I value my freedom."
Alessio chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "That's not what you said last month when that model from Milan kept calling."
"You're supposed to be on my side," Enzo throws a dinner roll at Alessio, who catches it with one hand without even looking.
Noah shakes his head. "Children, both of you. And in front of the boss's pregnant wife." They all laugh at that.
"Like you're any better," Daniel speaks up from his post by the door, surprising everyone. "Remember Barcelona?"
"We agreed never to mention Barcelona," Noah points a finger at Daniel, who just shrugs, the ghost of a smile on his usually stern face.
The banter feels normal. Good. Like we're healing.
Zoe laughs beside me, her hand covering mine on her stomach. "I can't wait to see what this child learns from all of you."
"Only the important things," Alessio says with mock seriousness. "Like how to properly break someone's fingers."
The door to the dining room swings open, and conversation halts.
Matteo Caruso stands in the doorway, a travel bag slung over his shoulder, confusion etched across his features as he takes in the scene.
"What the fuck did I miss?" he asks, looking between me and Zoe, then at everyone gathered around the table.
Shit. I completely forgot he was returning from Brazil today.
"Matteo," I stand, moving toward him. "Welcome back."
He drops his bag, still looking bewildered.
"It's a long story," I say, clasping his shoulder. "A very long story."
"Clearly," he says, shaking his head. "I leave you alone for a minute and everything goes to hell."
"You have no idea," Enzo calls out, raising his glass.
