Luca nodded as if he couldn’t believe it either, his eyes returning to Marcella, who was sleeping in the crib beside my bed. He looked almost lost. I wasn’t sure what to do to help him.

I gestured toward the crib. “Why don’t you hold her, Gianna?”

Gianna straightened but she didn’t reach for Marcella. “You know I’m not good with kids,” she said hesitantly.

I couldn’t believe them. Luca didn’t want to hold our daughter, and now Gianna didn’t want to hold her niece either.

Matteo let out a sigh and stepped up to the crib. Luca rocked forward as if he was about to stop his brother, but then he froze. Matteo must have seen it too, but he ignored it. He slipped his hand under Marcella as I sat up in the bed. “Make sure to support her neck. She can’t hold her head up yet.”

Matteo raised his eyes. Perhaps he’d thought I’d stop him, but Matteo and I had been getting along very well in the last few months. I didn’t trust him like I trusted Luca. Not even close, but I knew he’d protect Marcella. And then he lifted her out of her crib and her eyes peeled open, some spittle dripping down her lips and on his shirt sleeve. He didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s a miracle humankind survived with how fragile and useless our newborns are,” Matteo mused as he looked down at my daughter.

“That’s because we make sure nobody gets the chance to hurt them. I think Marcella will be well protected,” I said, meeting Luca’s gaze. Fierce protectiveness reflected in his eyes.

Luca and Matteo exchanged a look that caused Gianna to roll her eyes, but I smiled. If anyone ever so much as considered hurting Marcella, I wanted them to be met with Luca’s and Matteo’s full wrath.

LUCA

Marcella had my hair. Whenever I’d imagined our daughter, she’d looked like Aria—blonde hair, blue eyes. I hadn’t considered that part of me would be so obviously reflected in her. I hadn’t considered that she’d have anything of me. Aria was pure and kind and beautiful. There weren’t many good qualities I could offer. But Marcella was gorgeous with her black hair. Pure perfection like her mother.

The moment I’d seen her I’d been in love, and seeing Aria with Marcella, I loved my beautiful wife even more. Both of them were my life. The light in my darkness, and I knew I’d ruin it if I touched Marcella. She was fragile. I’d never seen fingers and toes that small. I’d break her. I’d pollute her with my darkness.

Matteo held her without those reservations. He had as much blood on his hands as I, was as twisted and cruel, but he held her, held my daughter. I’d wanted to stop him, didn’t want his killer hands on my innocent daughter, but Aria’s expression had prevented me, and now I had to stand by as my brother rocked my daughter in his arms. I knew I’d never have to worry about Marcella when Matteo was around. He would defend her. He’d kill and maim and burn to defend her – like I would. We both had our demons, but protecting our loved one—that was one of the very few positive character traits we had.

Aria’s gaze burnt a hole in my chest. She wanted me to be the one to hold Marcella. She gave me a reassuring smile, then yawned. She was pale, had lost a lot of blood. “It’s time for you to go. Aria needs rest,” I said.

Matteo lowered Marcella into her crib before he went over to Aria and hugged her, followed by Gianna. Then they slipped out, leaving us alone.

“You don’t have to stay,” Aria whispered.

I stalked toward her, slipped out of my shoes and climbed into bed with her. It was a tight fit, even with Aria’s body snuggled up against me. She winced when she moved and I was careful not to hurt her as I wrapped my arms around her. “I’ll stay,” I said firmly. She rested her palm over my heart as she often did. Sometimes I wondered if it was to reassure herself that I had a beating heart. I covered her hand with mine and she released a breath. “Whenever you are at my side, I know everything will be okay.”

“Sleep, principessa. I will protect you.”

“And Marcella,” she added, half-asleep.

“You and Marcella both, till my death.”

Her breathing evened out, and I allowed my own eyes to close. I wouldn’t sleep of course. This wasn’t our penthouse or our mansion. Romero and Matteo would make sure there were men guarding the corridors, but I needed to be vigilant as well. Whoever wanted to hurt my wife and daughter, would have to go through me.

The next day Aria was released. The doctors probably wanted us gone so they wouldn’t have to deal with armed guards anymore. I had seen how terrified they were of us. Everyone knew what we were. I didn’t give a fuck. I was glad to have Aria back in our penthouse where she and Marcella were safer than out in a public hospital, especially since I’d bought the offices in the building across from our roof terrace and stationed a sniper on the top.

Aria wasn’t allowed to carry anything heavy yet since she was still in pain, so Matteo had to carry Marcella in her carrier. Aria didn’t comment, but Matteo was fucking mocking me with his eyes. I knew he’d chew my ear off later.

And I was right. The moment Aria and Gianna had settled on the sofa, and Marcella was asleep in her crib beside them, Matteo cornered me in the kitchen as I was about to prepare coffee for us.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Luca?” he muttered, getting right in my face. I glanced toward our wives but they were deep in conversation.

“Stay out of my business.” I pressed the button of the coffee maker.

Matteo shook his head. “She’s your daughter. Why won’t you touch her? Even I can tell that it’s killing Aria to see you acting like a total jackass.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Our father was a sadistic asshole, not a role model of what it means to be a good father. I’m like him in so many regards—who’s to say I won’t be a shitty father as well?”

Matteo laughed. Fucking laughed in my face. “Fuck. Listen to you talking bullshit. You are nothing like our father where it matters. He raped and beat our mother. You cut your own arm because you didn’t want to force Aria on your wedding night. You treat her like a queen, and you will treat your daughter like a princess. Now stop the bullshit, Luca.”

“For fuck’s sake, Matteo, you make it sound like I’m a saint. You know me.”

“Saint, sinner, as if I give a fuck.” Matteo sneered. “I know you. I know you like to kill, you like to spill blood as much as I do. I know you enjoy slicing up our enemies and traitors. I know you like to be feared. You like their screams and their begging. You are a sick fucker like me, but you are a sick fucker who loves his wife and his daughter, and who would rather spill his own blood and slice his own limbs off than harm them.”

I shoved the full coffee cup toward Matteo without a word, and took a gulp from my own black coffee. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day that Matteo was the voice of reason from us both. I didn’t like it one bit. “We’ll see how you’ll handle becoming a father.”

Matteo shook his head. “Gianna and I don’t want kids right now, perhaps never.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise but didn’t get the chance to ask him about it because Romero and Lily arrived for lunch.