Chapter 126 126

Chapter 126 126
Mia
I pull back slightly, cupping his face in my hands. I look into his eyes—those stormy, dangerous gray eyes that have seen so much death, but are now filled with a desperate, terrified love for me.
"I..." I swallow, my throat sore. "I saw the doctor."
"Is something wrong?" His voice is barely a whisper.
"No," I say, shaking my head frantically. "No. Alessandro..." I take a shuddering breath. "I am pregnant."
The words hang in the air, suspended in time.
For a second, Alessandro doesn't react. He just stares at me, his eyes widening, his pupils dilating. He goes completely still. The predator freezes.
Then, the shock melts away, replaced by a raw, unguarded expression that steals the breath from my lungs. His jaw goes slack. The lines around his eyes soften. He looks at my stomach, then back at my face, his hands trembling as they hover over my waist, afraid to touch.
"Pregnant?" he breathes, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. "You are… with child?"
"Yes," I whisper.
A sound escapes him—half a laugh, half a sob. He crushes me against him, burying his face in my hair, holding me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don't care. I feel the wetness of his own tears against my temple, mixing with mine.
"Everyone's face lights up."
It’s like a switch has been flipped. The tension in the room shatters.
Aria screams, a high-pitched sound of pure delight, throwing her napkin into the air. Sofia gasps, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes swimming with tears. Bridget jumps up, knocking her chair over, rushing toward us.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Aria chants, grabbing Luca’s arm and shaking him. "Did you hear that? A baby!"
Luca stands frozen for a moment, a grin slowly splitting his face. He looks at his brother, still holding me, and then he laughs—a booming, joyous sound. He walks around the table and grabs Alessandro by the shoulders, pulling him up into a rough, back-slapping hug.
"Congratulations buddy," Luca says, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re going to be a father. Hell, the world isn't ready for a mini-Sandro."
I let out a laugh.
Alessandro chuckles and he pulls away from Luca, but he doesn't let go of me. He keeps one arm firmly around my waist, anchoring me to him. He looks at Luca, then at the girls, his posture one of supreme pride and possessiveness. He looks like a king who has just conquered an empire.
"We are so happy for you guys," Sofia says, wiping her eyes. She comes over and squeezes my hand. "Mia, you’re going to be an amazing mother."
Marta is crying openly in the doorway, blessing herself in rapid Italian. "A blessing," she murmurs. "A true blessing for this house."
Alessandro turns back to me. He frames my face with his large, calloused hands, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are wet, but they burn with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
"Mia," he whispers. He leans down and kisses me. It’s not a kiss of possession, or lust. It is a kiss of reverence, soft and trembling and full of a promise he doesn't need to speak aloud.
He pulls back, his forehead resting against mine. His hand slides down to cover my stomach, flat and unknowing beneath my dress.
"We'll go through this," he says, his voice rough with emotion. He squeezes my hand, his grip tight, reassuring. "I will burn the world down before I let anything touch you. Or him. Or her."
He is already planning the wars he will fight to keep us safe. I see it in his eyes. The dark romance of it, that he would kill for this child, kill for me. It should terrify me. And it does. But beneath the fear, there is a steel thread of resolve. I am not that naive girl from Chicago anymore. I am the wife of the Don. And I will protect what is mine, too.
I look at him, at the man who kidnapped me, who broke me, who put me back together in his own image. He is giving me a family. He is giving me a future, however dark and dangerous it may be.
"Yes!" I snap.
The word comes out sharp, louder than I intended. It cuts through his poetic declaration.
Alessandro pauses, blinking, and then a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. He recognizes the fire in me. He knows I am not just accepting him; I am challenging him, accepting the challenge.
"Yes," I say again, softer this time, but no less fierce. I squeeze his hand back, hard. "We will. Together."
The room erupts again, the noise rushing back in laughter, toasts, the clinking of glasses. Luca is pouring champagne, even for me, though he swaps it for sparkling water at a glare from Alessandro. The girls are already talking about names and nurseries, their voices weaving a tapestry of domestic dreams that feels surreal in this fortress of stone.
Alessandro pulls out my chair, and I sit down, my legs trembling. He sits beside me, his hand never leaving mine, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles in a rhythm that matches the beating of my heart. I look around the table at the friends, at the brother, at the staff. I look at the man beside me, the lion who has curled up at my feet to protect our cub.
I take a deep breath, the scent of Marta’s food and the Sicilian night filling my lungs. It is not a happy ending. It is a beginning. A dangerous, bloody, beautiful beginning. And as I feel Alessandro’s grip tighten, I know there is nowhere else on earth I would rather be.