I laughed through my tears. "That's very poetic for a man who just beat up my father."
"I'm multifaceted."
"Clearly."
We lay like that for a long time, wrapped around each other carefully, his hand never leaving my stomach. Processing. Adjusting. Beginning to believe this impossible thing was real.
A knock interrupted us. The nurse from earlier.
"Sorry to interrupt, but we need to admit Ms. DeLuca for overnight observation. Mr. Valestri, you're cleared to stay if you'd like, but we're moving her to a regular room."
"I'm staying," Alessio said immediately.
"One more thing," I said before she could leave. "My mother—Sofia DeLuca. She was brought in earlier with a gunshot wound. Is she—can you find out how she's doing?"
The nurse nodded. "I'll check with the surgical floor and let you know."
They transferred me to a private room on the fourth floor—quieter, more comfortable, away from the ER chaos. Alessio never left my side, limping along beside the gurney despite his own injuries, refusing to let go of my hand.
Once settled in the new room, the nurse returned with an update.
"Your mother is out of surgery and stable. She's in the ICU for observation, but the doctors expect a full recovery. There are FBI agents posted outside her door."
Relief flooded through me. "Can I see her?"
"Not tonight—she's sedated, and you need rest. But tomorrow, if you're both stable, we can arrange something."
Tomorrow. I could wait until tomorrow.
After the nurse left, I finally asked the question that had been burning in my mind since Dr. Chao left.
"Are you scared? About the babies?"
Alessio was quiet for a moment, staring at our joined hands.
"Terrified," he admitted. "I have no idea how to be a father. My own father trained me to be a killer from age ten. Taught me strategy, violence, and how to run a criminal empire. Not exactly helpful parenting skills."
"So we're both completely unprepared."
"Completely." He smiled slightly. "But we'll figure it out. Read books. Take classes. Ask Sofia for help. Make it up as we go."
"Very reassuring."
"I'm being honest." His thumb stroked the back of my hand. "We're going to make mistakes. Probably lots of them. But we'll love them fiercely and protect them completely. That's more than either of us had growing up."
He was right. Low bar, but true.
"They're going to have such a weird origin story," I said. "Conceived while their parents were running from the mafia. Born while testifying against their grandfather. This is not how normal families start."
"We were never going to be normal." Alessio shifted carefully to face me more fully. "But we'll be ours. That's better than normal."
A knock interrupted before I could respond.
Dr. Chao returned with more paperwork and instructions. Prenatal vitamins. Diet recommendations. Warning signs to watch for. Follow-up appointment in one week.
"Given your circumstances, I'm referring you to a high-risk OB," she said. "Dr. Patricia Morrison at Phoenix Maternal Health. She specializes in complex pregnancies and trauma cases. You'll be in excellent hands."
High-risk pregnancy. The words settled over me like a weight.
