Page 124 of Brutal Vows

He shakes his head, jaw grinding. “Fuck. The doctor is here to patch you up.”

“Yeah. I need some patching.” I squeeze his shoulder and turn toward the car to help Milana.

She already has Zoe out of her car seat and on her lap, waiting for me to greet Stephano alone, giving us a private moment, even if there are no secrets between us now.

“Let me take her.”

I lift Zoe out, press a soft kiss to her head along the way, and settle her in the crook of my arm, her back resting against my biceps, her little legs hooked over my forearm. She loves sitting like this, with a view of the world as I see it. I hold my free hand out to Milana and help her out of the car.

She looks better, rested, and at peace despite everything we went through. We made it safely to Saint Petersburg and managed to clean up our tracks along the way, finding the rental car parked behind the warehouse and emptying it of all our personal, if fake, belongings. Our Russian aide took our guns for safekeeping and assured us he would drop the car off at the airport the next day, leaving no loose ends. As for the scrambler I parked in an alleyway close to our hotel in that forgettable village, he’s on that too.

Getting out of Saint Petersburg was stressful, because Zoe was screaming blue murder most of the time, tired and out of her routine. It was the perfect distraction through passport control and getting on the plane. Our baby girl does not like to travel, unless it’s on a motorbike strapped to her Papa’s chest.

Once we made it to Istanbul, we checked in at a five-star hotel in a touristy neighborhood but hunkered down, living off room service. Everything else we needed was delivered to the hotel. We bought fresh clothes and caught up with just enough sleep to make our way back to Italy.

Now, Milana looks up at Stephano, taking him in. “My goodness,” she says. “You are identical.”

“Not anymore,” Stephano says as they hug briefly, and then he has her at arm’s length. “Thank you for—” He breaks off, smiles that crooked smile we share, and with a shrug, says, “For setting him free in a way I didn’t realize he needed.”

She shoots him a small smile. “I could say the same thing to you. Thank you for letting your brother come to Russia and…you know…”

There is no quick way to describe everything we’ve gone through, except maybe to say we’ve been to hell and back.

“And this is Zoe.” Stephano caresses her cheek, and she gazes up at him, blue eyes wide. When he looks up at me, he grins, and there’s a new sparkle in his eyes. “Oh, boy…you’re in for it now.”

“I know.” I’m a lucky man.

Then Stephano lets go of Zoe, strokes his jaw, and shifts on his feet.

“Fuck—”

“No swearing, bro!” I reprimand him. “She hears everything.”

“Je-eeez.” He gives an incredulous chuckle. “Okay. No swearing. But I’ve just been bulldozed by…hell, I don’t even know what the feeling was.”

“Oh, yeah?” I chuckle, smug.

Stephano rolls his eyes at me, but I know exactly what that was—longing. The emotion I battled for so long and fought against: an inexplicable broodiness.

Men don’t talk about this shit, but I can read my brother’s emotions as if I’m staring into a mirror. He wants this too, even though we never dared talk about becoming fathers. Hell, Stephano vowed to never marry and look where he ended up, married to Gigi. She might need some convincing about having a baby, but Carla, her younger sister, is seriously pregnant and that baby is either going to cure Stephano’s broodiness or make it worse.

“Gigi and Don Trapani aren’t here,” Steph says as he gets our bags out of the car. “But Carla is. I tried my best, but she didn’t want to go anywhere. In fact, she point-blank refused. So, there went my plans to have an empty house.”

I shoot Milana a glance. Zoe’s arrival here is supposed to be a secret. This fucks with our plans.

“Can she be trusted?” I’d rather leave right now than have Carla know something I’ve been keeping from my older brothers.

“I’d hope so. She’s a Trapani. For what it’s worth, she doesn’t leave her suite. Hasn’t done so in weeks.” Steph closes the trunk, and we head up to the front door as the taxi drives off. “Things are a bit tense around here.”

For a minute, I’d forgotten Carla is pregnant by her bodyguard. Oof. Awkward.

“What are the chances we won’t bump into each other at all?”

“Ninety-nine percent? We’ll have to manage if she does come out, so…” He trails off.

“First the doctor.” I need to reassess this situation, but medical care is my priority now. “We might need to leave,” I say, not keen on this new risk I didn’t anticipate.

“Yes, I get that.” He holds the front door open, and caresses Zoe’s little foot in passing as I walk in. “It’s a constant battle of wills between Carla and Gigi, but in the end, Gigi always gives in because of the baby and the stress. I promised to look after Carla until they’re back.”