I narrowed my eyes at him. “Our father was a sadistic asshole, not a role model of what it means to be a good father. I’m like him in so many regards—who’s to say I won’t be a shitty father as well?”
Matteo laughed. Fucking laughed in my face. “Fuck. Listen to you talking bullshit. You are nothing like our father where it matters. He raped and beat our mother. You cut your own arm because you didn’t want to force Aria on your wedding night. You treat her like a queen, and you will treat your daughter like a princess. Now stop the bullshit, Luca.”
“For fuck’s sake, Matteo, you make it sound like I’m a saint. You know me.”
“Saint, sinner, as if I give a fuck.” Matteo sneered. “I know you. I know you like to kill, you like to spill blood as much as I do. I know you enjoy slicing up our enemies and traitors. I know you like to be feared. You like their screams and their begging. You are a sick fucker like me, but you are a sick fucker who loves his wife and his daughter, and who would rather spill his own blood and slice his own limbs off than harm them.”
I shoved the full coffee cup toward Matteo without a word, and took a gulp from my own black coffee. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day that Matteo was the voice of reason from us both. I didn’t like it one bit. “We’ll see how you’ll handle becoming a father.”
Matteo shook his head. “Gianna and I don’t want kids right now, perhaps never.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise but didn’t get the chance to ask him about it because Romero and Lily arrived for lunch.
After greeting Aria and taking a look at Marcella, Romero came over to Matteo and me, gripping my hand with a smile. “Congrats. Your daughter is beautiful.”
She was, beautiful like Aria.
Aria glanced up and met my gaze, her lips turning up at the corners.chapter 26ARIAWhen everyone left and Luca and I were alone with Marcella again, he walked over to us and peered down at Marcella in her crib. He looked at her like he wanted to touch her, to hold her, but he didn’t allow himself to do so. I stood. “I’m going to the bathroom. Will you watch Marcella?”
Luca nodded slowly but his eyes flickered with worry. Moving was still difficult, so it took a while for me to walk upstairs into our bathroom. Everything took longer, and I was washing my hands when I heard Marcella’s cries. I hurried out but stopped in the doorway of our bedroom, peering through the gap down at Luca, who was hovering next to the crib.
I wasn’t sure how to make him see that he wouldn’t hurt her.
“Aria?” he called and I hid behind the door, waiting.
My gut wrenched at Marcella’s cries. It took all my willpower not to run for her and cradle her in my arms.
“It’s okay,” Luca said softly.
I risked another glance downstairs.
Luca still stood over the crib, staring down at it like it was going to kill him. I was on the verge of walking down, of interfering and calming Marcella, when finally he reached down. He had watched me lift her. He hesitated then he lifted her from the crib, supporting her small head with his strong fingers the way I always did it. She looked tiny against his strong hands. He cradled her in the crook of his arm, then stroked her cheek with his index finger. My heart burst with so much love, it was almost painful.
“Shhh, princess, shhh. Everything is okay.” She quieted, big eyes trying to focus on him. “God, you are so small,” he whispered, his finger brushing over her small hand and tiny fingers.
“See,” I said, walking onto the landing. “You didn’t break her.”
He looked up then frowned. “You set this up.”
“I didn’t set it up. Marcella cries whenever she wants. But I chose not to go to her like I usually would.”
I walked down the stairs slowly, and Luca moved toward me, holding out his free hand to support me. My heart swelled as I put my palm over Luca’s arm holding our baby. “She enjoys being in your arm.” His gaze moved back down to our daughter.LUCAMarcella’s cries pitched higher as she flailed in the crib. Aria was still upstairs, but she needed to calm down our daughter.
“Aria?”
She didn’t reply and Marcella kept wailing, her face scrunched up, arms and legs twitching. Fuck. My heart tore from her cries.
Holding my breath, I reached into the crib, carefully slid my hand under Marcella, making sure my fingers supported her head, and I lifted her out. She was so small in my palms. I cradled her in the crook of my arm and ran my thumb along her soft cheek. “Shhh, princess, everything is okay.” She quieted, blinking up.