Vasilisa notices it too. Of course she does.
Her mouth curves as she looks between them. “You look happy.”
Adriana’s expression warms. “I am.”
Vasilisa shifts slightly on Santo’s lap, one hand settling over his chest. “It suits you.”
I’m about to tune out the girl talk when Vasilisa continues.
“Maybe soon we’ll both have even more to celebrate.”
Adriana goes still for half a second, then glances at Angelo before looking back at Vasilisa. “We’ve been trying.”
Vasilisa’s whole face lights up. “Really?”
Adriana laughs softly. “Really.”
“Us too,” Vasilisa says, like the words can’t stay inside her.
Santo’s hand tightens at her waist, not stopping her, not correcting her, just holding on while she says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world to want something soft in the middle of blood and business.
I look between the Amatos.
At both of them.
Children.
In the middle of a war.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Angelo must see it cross my face, because he takes a slow sip of his drink and says, “Don’t start.”
“Start?” I look at him flatly. “You’re trying for a child while Sarkisian is out for our blood.Yourblood.”
Adriana’s smile fades. Vasilisa’s fingers still slightly where they rest against Santo’s chest.
Angelo sets his glass down. “I’m not letting this war dictate every part of my future, Maksim.”
“That’s because you don’t think strategically.”
“No,” he says evenly. “That’s because I’m not building my life around fear.”
My jaw ticks. “A child isn’t a fucking statement. It’s a liability.”
Beside me, Ayla’s hand closes around mine under the table.
Tight. Quiet.
Enough to make me stop before this turns into something louder than it should.
Angelo leans back in his chair, gaze steady on mine. “Unlike you, we still have heirs to create and empires to run.”
I almost laugh. There’s nothing funny in it.
TheAmatos.
Always charging ahead like love makes them untouchable.
