MILLIE
As the evening settled in and the sounds of departing guests faded away, Gio and I found ourselves in the quiet embrace of our home once again, accompanied only by the soft breaths of our slumbering daughter, Maria. The room was bathed in the gentle glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows across the nursery.
Gio’s gaze was fixed upon Maria’s crib, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity, longing, and a hint of trepidation. He stood beside me, the two of us united in this intimate moment. The desire to touch her, to hold her, was evident in the tender curve of his lips and the slight clenching of his fingers, yet a sense of caution held him back. I rose from my seat, sensing his internal struggle.
“I’ll be right back, just going to use the bathroom. Can you keep an eye on Maria?” I whispered, my voice carrying the weight of trust and a touch of motherly concern.
Gio’s response was a gentle nod, his eyes locked onto our precious bundle. As I began my ascent up the stairs, a pang of empathy resonated within me. Every movement seemed deliberate and measured, the aftermath of the physical toll childbirth had taken on my body. Each step was a reminder of the strength it took to carry life and to bring it into the world.
Reaching the bathroom, I carried out my tasks, the moments stretching slightly longer than before. The distant cries of Maria reverberated through the silence, a reminder of the vulnerability of this new existence we had embraced. I dried my hands as her cries grew more urgent, echoing through the hallways like a plaintive melody.
With a sense of urgency, I hastened to return to her side. As I crossed the threshold of our bedroom, my eyes fell upon Gio, who stood poised by the crib, his face etched with a mixture of worry and determination. He was a protector in this moment, a guardian of our daughter’s tranquility.
Gio’s struggle was palpable. He hovered over the crib, his eyes locked onto Maria, his hands uncertainly inching towards her tiny form. I remained hidden by the doorframe, my heart aching with a blend of maternal instinct and a desire to let Gio find his own way.
“Millie?” his voice called out, tinged with a mix of uncertainty and longing. I held my ground, allowing the scene to unfold before me.
Maria’s cries were a symphony of distress, a reminder of the fragility of life. Every fiber of my being yearned to gather her into my arms, to cradle her and soothe her fears. But I knew this was a moment for Gio to discover his paternal instincts, to forge a connection that was uniquely his.
“It’s alright,” Gio’s voice wafted through the air like a whispered promise, a reassurance meant not only for Maria but for himself as well.
My gaze remained fixed upon him. Gio’s form was a silhouette of tenderness and uncertainty as he slowly extended his hand towards her. The minutes felt like hours as he hesitated, the weight of responsibility and fear mingling in his gaze. Then, in a moment that seemed to stretch beyond time itself, his fingers made contact with her, and he lifted her delicate frame from the crib.
I watched from my vantage point, a silent witness to the transformation taking place before me. His strong hands cradled her with a gentleness that belied his initial hesitation. Maria’s vulnerability was juxtaposed against his strength, her tiny form fitting securely in the crook of his arm. His index finger brushed against her cheek, a gesture of affection that held a world of tenderness.
The emotions that surged within me were profound. Love, pride, and a swelling admiration for the man who stood before me, overcoming his doubts to embrace the role of a father. My heart overflowed as I watched this intimate exchange, a connection forming between the two people who meant the most to me.
“Shhh, princess, shhh. Everything is okay,” Gio’s hushed words resonated with a mixture of paternal care and newfound confidence. Maria’s cries began to subside, her wide eyes fixated on his face, as if captivated by the new presence in her world.
I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. Slowly, I descended the stairs, each step carrying me closer to the tableau that had unfolded in our bedroom. Gio’s gaze lifted from Maria to meet mine, a mixture of surprise and realization dawning in his eyes.
“You didn’t break her,” I said softly, a smile playing on my lips as I stepped into the room.
His brows furrowed slightly, his gaze searching mine. “You set this up,” he remarked, his voice a mixture of accusation and understanding.
I shook my head gently, stepping closer to him. “No, Gio. Maria’s cries are unpredictable, but I chose not to rush to her side like I normally would. I wanted you to have this moment.”
As I drew nearer, Gio extended his free hand, a silent invitation for support. I placed my palm on his arm, the contact a tangible connection between the three of us. Maria, now settled in his arms, blinked up at me with a mixture of curiosity and innocence.
“You see,” I murmured, my heart brimming with emotion. “She finds solace in your arms.”
Gio’s gaze shifted back to our daughter, his face softening as he looked upon her with a newfound sense of confidence and belonging. In that moment, surrounded by the soft light of our shared love, I knew that our family had taken another step forward on this journey of discovery and unity.
GIO
Maria’s cries filled the room, rising to a desperate pitch as she wriggled and flailed in her crib. Millie, my wife, was still upstairs, unaware of our daughter’s distress. Panic welled up within me; I knew I had to soothe our little one.
“Millie?” I called out urgently, my voice echoing through the quiet house.
No reply came, and Maria’s cries continued to pierce the air. Her tiny face scrunched up in agony, her arms and legs twitching with each sob. My heart clenched as I felt utterly helpless in the face of her suffering.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to steady my nerves. With cautious determination, I approached the crib, my eyes locked on our distressed baby. Gently, I slid my hand under her small body, making sure to support her delicate head, and lifted her into my arms. She felt incredibly fragile against my palms, a fragile life entrusted to me.
Cradling her in the crook of my arm, I brushed my thumb against her soft cheek, trying to mimic the soothing touch Millie always employed. “Shhh, my little princess, everything’s alright now,” I whispered, my voice a calming presence.
Gradually, Maria’s cries subsided, her watery eyes blinking up at me, still shimmering with traces of distress. And then, just as swiftly as before, Millie’s voice reached us from the top of the stairs.
“See? You’ve got this,” Millie’s reassuring voice drifted down, accompanied by her warm smile.
A sense of relief washed over me. I hadn’t failed; I had managed to bring comfort to our daughter.
As Millie joined us downstairs, her eyes were radiant with a happiness I had seldom seen. She looked at me holding Maria, and her expression was a testament to the joy of our shared parenthood. I couldn’t help but pull her close with my free arm, her presence grounding me.
Millie’s smile was slow and beautiful, a sight that never failed to tug at my heart. “You see, Gio? The darkness you fear hasn’t touched you or her. Maria will know you as I do-someone who’s there when she needs comfort, who loves and protects her.”
My voice came out as a soft confession. “You’re the one who makes me feel human, Millie.”
Her brows furrowed with gentle concern. “Don’t say that. You are human.”
A wistful smile played on my lips. “If anyone dares to harm you or Maria, they won’t see my human side.”
Millie’s nod held a mixture of understanding and conviction. “No one will ever pose a threat to us, Gio.”
She was right, of course. I would move mountains and tear through obstacles to ensure their safety. But the challenges were numerous. The constant struggle with the Outfit, the Bratva, and the local MCs weighed heavily on my shoulders. Yet, the most pressing concern was the looming presence of the De Fiore in Las Vegas.
The Outfit’s partnership with the De Fiore could lead to chaos, something I had to prevent at all costs. As long as Roman Bianchi continued to eliminate his own underlings, Mathias would consider him unpredictable. But I knew that wouldn’t last forever. Alonzo Bianchi, Roman’s father, was out there, biding his time. One day, he would emerge in the West, and then all hell could break loose. He had assessed me, and I knew he wouldn’t back down. Young and volatile, he sought power without hesitation.
But Alonzo Bianchi had overlooked one thing-I had something to fight for. And if the day came when he threatened my family, I would stand my ground. Maybe Alonzo’s own son would be his undoing, and he would erase the threat himself before it could manifest into something more dangerous.