125

125
Azzurra made her way toward them, and Marcello rose to his feet, still cradling Cesario in his arms.
Rio was the first to react, flinging his arms wide before leaping into her embrace. His eyes sparkled as he beamed up at her.
“Sooo beautiful, Zuzu,” he exclaimed with pure adoration.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she replied with a grin, her cheeky smile enough to make Marcello press a hand to his chest as though she’d struck him straight through the heart. He was undone. Completely. The sight of her stole every ounce of his composure she was devastatingly gorgeous.

He leaned closer, his palm resting against the small of her back. His lips hovered near her ear, his voice a low rumble.
“You look so fcking beautiful, it’s hard to keep my hands to myself.”

Heat flushed her cheeks, but before she could respond, Cesario cupped her face in his chubby little hands, forcing her gaze down to him.
“Zuzu, so pretty,” he grinned before planting kisses on both her cheeks. She laughed brightly.
“And you’re so handsome,” she teased, making him blush and mumble a shy, “thank you.”

Marcello raised a brow at the boy. “And what exactly are you blushing for?”
Rio stiffened like he’d been caught in some crime, scrambling to arrange his features into a poker face. Azzurra couldn’t help but chuckle at his theatrics.

She settled into her chair with Cesario on her lap, though the toddler quickly insisted on sitting on his own. Marcello obliged, securing him in the baby seat before taking his own place at the table.
“Is there something special about tonight?” he asked smoothly, his gaze never leaving her.

Her eyes darted away, refusing to meet his. “Nothing in particular. I just… felt like cooking.” The words were casual, but not convincing. Marcello’s smirk told her he wasn’t fooled.

The maids arrived with the dishes, sneaking glances at their King and Queen, their faces alight with fondness at the sight of how deeply in love the two seemed. Outside these walls, whispers still circled about the attacks no one beyond the mansion yet knew if Azzurra had even survived. Twice now, she’d been targeted. She had begged Marcello to speak out, to reassure the people, but he’d refused. Not until he could gather them all himself. He planned to announce her as his mate, his equal. But not tonight. Tonight, all he wanted was her.

He hummed appreciatively as he tasted the food, while she watched him anxiously, waiting. Their gazes locked, and though he was tempted to toy with her a little longer, the look in her eyes unraveled him.
“It’s delicious,” he declared. “I’d love to kiss the hands of the chef.”

Azzurra’s eyes widened as her mouth fell open, scandalized by his boldness in front of the maids. Cesario clapped his hands joyfully.
“Zuzu made it! Kiss Zuzu’s hands!” he shouted.

Marcello stretched out his hand toward her. She froze, catching the way the maids were blushing and giggling behind their hands.
“Come now,” he teased, grinning. “You’re hesitating to give me your hand? If you’re this shy now, I can only imagine tonight…”

Her eyes went wide, and she thrust her small hand into his large one in a rush. He brushed his lips over her knuckles, winked, and sent her cheeks burning scarlet.

Dinner passed with Cesario filling the silence, babbling excitedly about everything Ezra had taught him that day. Both Marcello and Azzurra humored him, answering with indulgent smiles.

Later, they strolled through the garden, Marcello carrying Cesario against his shoulder. Azzurra’s heart was full, her smile stretching so wide it hurt. Peace something she’d never truly known wrapped around her like a fragile dream. And that fragility terrified her. Happiness this complete felt dangerous, as if she might wake any moment and find herself plunged back into the nightmares of her past.

Marcello caught the shift in her expression instantly. His brows rose, and he turned to face her, cupping her cheek with such tenderness it startled her.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, yet weighted with certainty, as though he already knew.

Before she could answer, Benedetto appeared. Marcello handed Cesario into his arms without hesitation.
“Time for sleep,” Benedetto said, but Cesario blinked in confusion Azzurra had always been the one to tuck him in. Still, he waved as Benedetto carried him off, and she waved back.

Marcello tugged her gently to where they had been standing, his gaze steady. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”

“It’s nothing,” she whispered, lowering her eyes. The warmth of his hand on her cheek melted her resistance, but still the fear lingered.

“Azzurra.” His voice wrapped pleading and warning into one, a tone only he could master.

She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m happy. So happy it frightens me. I’ve never felt peace like this. And now that things are finally turning in our favor, I’m terrified it’s all just a dream. That one day I’ll wake, and it’ll all vanish, and I’ll be back in the nightmare I escaped.”

Marcello crushed her against his chest, his arms anchoring her as though he could protect her from her own fears. He pressed kisses into her hair, across her temple, over every inch of her face, before finally sealing her lips with a tender peck.

Then he pulled back, cupping her face so she couldn’t look away. His amber eyes burned like sunsets caught in firelight.
“You don’t have to carry this fear alone anymore. You have me. You have Cesario. The three of us we’ve already begun a new life together. And I’ll protect it with everything I am.” His thumb traced her scar, his lips following to press a reverent kiss there. “I swear, I’ll give my life to keep you both safe. This peace you’ve found? It won’t slip away. Not while I breathe.”

Tears stung her eyes, and his brow furrowed at the sight. “What is it? Why are you crying?” Concern laced his deep, accented voice, stirring her heart into chaos.

“I’m just… happy,” she admitted softly, brushing at her eyes. “Happy to have you.”

He tilted her chin, forcing her gaze to his, before claiming her mouth in a searing kiss that stole her breath and sealed the promise between them.