Page 131 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
"Then we better get back before she wakes up," I say, but I don’t move. None of us do.
Because these moments are rare and precious. These quiet hours where the world is just the four of us—soon to be five when Rosalina wakes up—and nothing else matters.
Eventually, Maggie stirs, making small sounds that indicate she is about to wake up and demand food. I stand carefully, carrying her back to the master bedroom where Rosalina is waiting.
She is already awake, sitting up against the headboard, her hair a wild curly mess around her face. When she sees us—me carrying Maggie, Dante and Luca trailing behind—she smiles.
"You all disappeared," she says, but there is no accusation in her voice. Just love. "I thought maybe you ran away."
"Never," Dante says, climbing back into bed beside her. "We were just having a family meeting."
"At three in the morning?"
"The best meetings happen at three in the morning," Luca says, settling on her other side.
I hand Maggie to Rosalina, watching as she adjusts her nightgown to begin feeding. The baby latches immediately, and Rosalina winces slightly—still getting used to nursing—but her expression is pure contentment.
"This is my favorite part," she admits quietly. "When we are all together like this. When everything is quiet and perfect and exactly how it should be."
"Mine too," I say, sitting at the foot of the bed where I can see all of them—Rosalina glowing with new motherhood, Maggie feeding peacefully, Dante and Luca flanking them like guards even in sleep.
My family.
The family I chose and who chose me back.
The family worth dying for.
But more importantly—the family worth living for.
I watch Rosalina's eyes drift closed as Maggie nurses, her body relaxing into the mattress, completely at peace. Dante's hand rests on her ankle, Luca's on her shoulder, both of them protective even in sleep.
And I make a silent promise to all of them.
I will protect this. This family, this love, this perfect, impossible happiness we have built together. Whatever it takes. However long I have.
This is what I was always meant to do.
Not guard a mafia prince or fight in territory wars or enforce criminal codes.
This.
Love these people. Protect this baby. Build this life.
Everything else is just details.
Maggie finishes nursing and falls asleep against Rosalina's chest, milk-drunk and satisfied. Rosalina carefully shifts her to rest in the bassinet beside the bed, then settles back into the pillows with a contented sigh.
"Come here," she murmurs, and I move up the bed to lie beside her, Dante on one side, Luca on the other, me at her feet.
Four people who should never have worked together.
Four people who found something neither the Italian nor Irish mafias could ever give us.
Freedom. Choice. Love.
Family.
And as the sun starts to rise through the bedroom window, painting everything in shades of gold and rose, I close my eyes and let myself believe in happily ever after.
Because if anyone has earned it, it is us.
