Page 235 of Caterina
I have not told him either.
Not while he could hear it, anyway.
Not when it would count.
And now there is this.
Something neither of us planned. Something that makes everything more complicated, more dangerous.
More permanent.
I should be spiraling.
Instead, beneath everything else, beneath the fear and grief and fury, there is something strange.
Contentment.
Not happiness. Not exactly. Happiness feels too bright right now, in this room.
But something settled and sure.
I do not know how Adrian will feel.
He is a soldier, a protector. A man who believes attachments create risk and hesitation.
A man who looked at Cristiano like the weight of the Conti legacy could crush a baby before he could speak.
A man who understands targets and bloodlines and what it means when enemies aim at family.
And now—
Now he will have a child of his own.
If he wants one.
No.
I close my eyes.
That thought hurts too much.
He will want this child because this child exists. Because for all his discipline and fear and rules, Adrian Donato protects what is his with everything he has.
And if he does not know how to feel at first, I will give him time.
If he wakes up afraid, I will understand.
If he wakes up furious at himself for not somehow preventing biology itself, I may actually laugh.
But for any of that to happen, he has towake up.
“You have to wake up,” I whisper, my voice breaking now. “Because I am not telling our child that you died the day I found out about her. That would be morbid.”
The machine breathes for him.
I bend over his hand and press my lips to his knuckles.
“I need you,” I say against his skin. “And not because someone is trying to kill us. Not because I’m scared. Not because of whatever psychological explanation you would give if you were awake and trying to be impossible.”
