Page 145 of Diego

Mario ignores that. “How are you feeling about the baby?”

The question catches me off guard, even though I was expecting it. Everyone knows now, but most of the conversations so far have been practical. Doctors, security, Blair. What happens next. Very little of it has been about the fact that somewhere inside all of this chaos, I am going to be a father.

I turn my chair toward the windows and let out a breath. “I don’t know if I have just one answer for that yet. It still catches me off guard every time I think about it.” I glance back at him. “I’ll be doing something completely normal and suddenly remember there is a baby coming. My baby. Then I spend the next ten minutes trying to understand how the hell that became my life.”

Mario’s mouth curves faintly, but he does not joke. “Are you happy?”

“Yeah.” That answer comes easier. “I am. Scared shitless in ways I did not expect, but happy.”

I look down at the report on my desk and push it aside because pretending I am working is becoming insulting to both of us. “It’s different when it’s yours. I’ve watched all of you become fathers. I’ve been there while the kids grew up, and now they're old enough to be having babies of their own. I know what being a father looks like from the outside.”

I glance back at Mario. “Knowing I’m about to be one myself is something else entirely.”

“And now?”

“Now somebody is going to call me Papà.” Even saying it makes something tighten in my chest. “That is fucking strange, Mario.”

He gives me a slow nod. “It is the first time.”

I look at him. “You remember?”

“I remember thinking the hospital had made a serious error letting me leave with a baby. Let alone two.”

A laugh gets out of me before I can stop it. “That actually makes me feel better.”

The humor lasts only a moment before Mario’s expression turns more serious again. He rests one ankle over his knee and studies me with that look I have known my entire life, the one that means he has already moved on to the part of the conversation I would rather avoid.

“Did you talk to Blair? About security? You said you would.”

My mood drops immediately. Did he somehow know that I did last night? “Yes. I had the talk with Blair.”

The bitterness in my voice is obvious enough that Mario’s brows lift. “And how did she take it?”

I give him a flat look. “How do you think she took it?”

He exhales through his nose, unsurprised. “It had to be done.”

“I know that,” I snap, sharper than I intend. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Mario does not react to the tone. He has been my brother too long to care when I bite at him. “No one said you had to like it.”

I push out of my chair and cross toward the other side of the office because sitting still suddenly feels impossible.

“I went there because I heard she had been sick. That was it. I wanted to check on her, make sure she was eating, see if she needed anything. Instead, I ended up telling her that if she wants to raise her own child, she has to accept our security around her for the rest of her life.”

Mario is quiet behind me.

I turn back toward him. “You should have seen her face.”

“I can imagine.”

“No, you cannot.” The words come out harsh, but I keep going.

“You and Anna were married when you found out you were pregnant. And with Victoria, the situation was complicated, but that conversation did not have to happen. Blair was just sitting there in her apartment, eating pizza, living her life, and I walked in and told her that life does not belong to her anymore. She is pregnant with my baby, so now she gets Giacomo following her around for the rest of her life. And if she refuses, she never sees her baby again.”

Mario’s expression tightens. “You told her that plainly?”

“Not in so many words, but pretty much.”