Page 150 of Wicked Truths
Amara just smiles. “Nothing that can’t wait until later.”
The three of us stand there, watching as our extended family—some bound by blood and some by choice—gather around Aurora, who stands proudly wearing her birthday crown, waiting patiently.
Lia and Cade have their hands intertwined. Dante stands behind Lia, his arms around her growing waist as Rafe holds their children in his arms.
And then there is Milly, laughing at something Rafe said.
Even Mateo seems more at ease.
And my daughter Poppy is recording everything on her phone.
But at the center is our daughter, the reality of the unlikely love that brought us all together.
“They’re bringing out the cake,” Dom says, a rare hint of excitement in his voice as he picks up Aurora in his arms.
As we join the circle forming around the elaborate birthday cake. It’s decorated with a princess theme. The top half was supposed to be a more sophisticated design for Dom, but it’s not.
I catch Amara’s eye over Aurora’s head. She smiles. And like every time before now, my heart pounds at the look we share. It contains everything: gratitude for the past, joy in the present, hope for the future. This isn’t the life any of us expected—oh no–it’s so much better.
As everyone sings“Happy Birthday,”I watch Dom tilt Aurora to help her blow out her candles. The former king of the de Luca crime family, now gray at the temples but no less formidable, and also completely wrapped around the finger of a two-year-old girl.
“Make a wish, principessa,” Dom whispers, and as he and Aurora blow out their candles together, cheers come from our family.
I stand beside Amara, my fingers intertwined with hers, hearing the ocean waves crash against the shore beyond our garden.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I think about what she told me. Twins. After everything we’ve been through—the blackmail, the lies, the near-death experiences—here we are, about to celebrate not just one new life, but two.
At the far end of the lawn, Milly and Poppy stand side by side, each holding what looks like a small cannon. My daughter leans on one crutch as she catches my eye and winks. She’s grown into such a confident young woman, accepting our unconventional family with a grace that still humbles me.
“DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE SEX OF YOUR BABIES, DOM AND CALEB?” Milly shouts across the lawn, her voice carrying over the sound of waves and party chatter.
Everyone falls silent.
Amara squeezes my hand, her eyes bright with excitement. I look at Dom and he meets my gaze. Something passes between us. He shifts Aurora in his arms, balancing her on his hip as he reaches for Amara’s other hand.
He looks at Amara. “Babies?”
She smiles. “Happy birthday.”
He chuckles, turning to me. “Do you want to know?” His voice is uncharacteristically soft.
I nod, surprised by the thickness in my throat. “I’m happy with whatever we have.”
“Me too,” Dom agrees, the corner of his mouth lifting in a genuine smile.
“Just do it!” Amara shouts, practically vibrating with excitement beside me.
Milly and Poppy exchange a glance, counting down together. “Three...two...one!”
They release the color bombs, and suddenly the air is filled with glittering particles—pink and blue shimmering in the late afternoon sunlight, drifting down around us like magical dust.
“A boy and a girl,” I murmur, watching the colors dance in the air.
“Yes!” Dom yells, uncharacteristically exuberant.
Aurora claps her hands delightedly, trying to catch the falling sparkles.
“You’re okay with that?” Amara asks, looking between us with those blue eyes that first captured my heart years ago.
