The hallway is silent except for the twins still crying and the steady beep of monitors. Everyone’s staring out into the hall: Siena in her room holding Emilia, Giovanna in her room with one baby in her arms and Dr. Rossi holding the other one.
I drop heavily into a chair in the corner, accept the water bottle Tommy shoves at me even though what I really need is whiskey.
Sophie goes back into Siena’s room, and I watch through the open door as she takes Emilia again, settling into the chair by thebed. She’s smiling, cooing at the baby, like the last five minutes never happened.
She won’t look at me.
Matti appears in front of me, blocking my view. “You want to tell me what the hell that was about?”
I take a long drink, saying nothing.
“Vin.” He sits down, lowering his voice. “You can’t do this. You made your choice. You have to let her go.”
“I know that.”
“Then what—”
“I said I know.” I scrub a hand over my face, feeling the throb in my jaw where he hit me. “Just drop it.”
He studies me for a long moment, then shakes his head. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
He doesn’t know about the marriage contract yet. But after seeing how he gave up everything for Siena, I don’t think he’d understand even if I told him. But he has that luxury. He’s the underboss. I’m the fucking boss of the Demonio Brotherhood. I can’t just do what I want.
He stands and heads back to Siena’s room. A moment later, he returns with Emilia in his arms.
“Here.” He deposits the baby carefully in my arms. “Hold your niece.”
The tiny weight settles against my chest, and I freeze. She’s so fucking small. Breakable. Her face is scrunched up, eyes open, blinking blindly one tiny fist curled against her cheek.
She has Siena’s eyes. Big and dark and impossibly innocent. Eyes like Sophie’s.
One day soon I’ll have a baby of my own with Ashlyn. A baby with green eyes and auburn hair and nothing of Sophie in them at all. The thought makes me want to throw up.
I hand Emilia back to Matti, carefully, trying to give him the support he deserves. “She’s beautiful, bro. Congratulations.”
But he’s staring at the baby, his eyes as bright and shiny as Tommy’s.
Through the doorway, I watch Sophie stroke the baby’s cheek as Matti holds her, her smile soft and sad and so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at. I slip out while everyone is busy, leaving them to their happiness, so I can head out and slaughter my own.
55
Sophie
It’s taken longer than it should have, but I’ve finally gotten to the point that the new Arsenal feels like mine, and today, I get to share it with my favorite people in the world.
“She’s perfect,” I whisper, cradling Emilia against my chest. Five days old and already so alert, her dark eyes, Siena’s eyes, tracking the dust motes dancing through the afternoon light. “Absolutely perfect.”
Siena laughs, settling onto one of the reclaimed wood chairs that still smell like furniture polish. “She screamed for two hours straight last night. Matti walked her around the penthouse singing to her until 3 in the morning.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That’s desperation.” But Siena’s smile is soft, her whole face glowing despite the dark circles under her eyes. “He’s texted me 17 times since I left an hour ago. Seventeen. ‘Is she okay? Does she need anything? Should I come get you?’”
My insides twists, but I keep my smile in place, not hard to do when I’m looking at this little nugget. Emilia’s tiny fingers are curled against my palm, each nail no bigger than a grain of rice. “Matti loves you so much.”
“He does.” Siena studies me, and I can feel her gaze even with my eyes on the baby. “You look terrible, by the way.”
I laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Thanks. You look disgusting, too.”
