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After months of planning, I could do this. At least, that was what I told myself. Dr. Lansing said this was a step in the right direction for me. That having a child would change me in ways I least expected. Alex put all of her faith in me—a fucking cold-blooded killer—so I figured I must have done something right.
All of us gathered in Alex’s birthing room. I stood beside the hospital bed and held her hand. Her entire body trembled, and she squeezed my hand so tightly she practically cut off my circulation. I brushed the sweaty curls off her forehead, telling Alex that she was doing great and to keep going.
Teeth clenched, she looked up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, writhing in pain. I wished I could take it from her. Allow her pain to consume me, so she didn’t have to feel a thing.
“Almost there.” Dr. Ferguson was between Alex’s legs. “Push.”
A few seconds later, screams filled the room.
Dr. Ferguson held up my daughter. She was so beautiful and tiny, with black hair and Alex’s blue eyes. The perfect combination of us. So precious and pure, untainted by our world. In this moment, I knew I would do anything to protect her. That I would kill anyone who even looked at her.
She was mine.
After the doctor cut the umbilical cord and the nurse cleaned her up, she wrapped Sofia in a blanket and handed her to Alex.
“Hello, Sofia Salvatore.” Alex pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I dreamed about you. And you’re even prettier than I had imagined. You look just like your daddy.”
I leaned down and kissed Alex’s forehead, unable to take my eyes off Sofia. Something wet my cheek. I looked up to see if we had a hole in the ceiling because there was no fucking way I was crying. I hadn’t done that since the first night I lived with Fitzy.
She swiped at the single tear streaming down my cheek and smiled. “It’s okay to feel things, Damian,” she said in a hushed tone. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’re not going anywhere.”
I loved her, something I never thought was possible. But maybe I loved her, even when I didn’t understand the meaning of the word. I’d gotten her name tattooed over my heart years ago. In my mind, it was nothing more than obsession. She was my pet, my pretty little plaything, and I was like a cat hunting a mouse.
For a long time, I had feared she was like Evangeline. I was terrified she would see the real me and try to push me aside, separate me from my family. But the opposite happened. She brought all four of us closer.
Bastian moved across the room and put his hand on my shoulder. “She’s beautiful, D. Congrats.”
I angled my body so I could pull him into a hug. He didn’t judge me for the tears that wet his shirt. Fifteen years was a long time without feeling human. We were more than brothers, bound by our trauma and the tragedies of our past. I wouldn’t have made it this long without him. Bastian always put me before himself, like he was my father instead of my best friend, my brother.
It was time for me to stop relying on him so much. So I learned how to deal with my dark desires in other ways. Our lives had been pretty quiet since Dante Luciano killed Lorenzo Basile. We had new partnerships, more Knights admitted into the organization, and a new army of men to defend our legacies.
Luca hugged me next, patting me on the back. “You’ll do just fine, D. One day at a time, like we talked about, okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I got this.”
“Congrats, bro.” Marcello gave me a one-arm hug and tucked a Cuban cigar behind my ear. “For later.”
I smirked. “I doubt we’ll be getting any sleep for a while.”
He nodded, his eyes on Sofia. “But it will be worth it.”
Alex looked up at me, her eyelids fluttering. “Damian, do you want to hold your daughter?”
My hands trembled as I took her from Alex.
Luca noticed my uncertainty and was at my side, adjusting her, so we were both comfortable. “Like this. Same as the baby books.”
“Doing it is not the same as reading about it.”
He snickered. “How do you think I learned?”
“Hi, baby girl.” Sofia’s tiny pink lips curled up into a smile at the sound of my voice. I brushed the soft black hair on her head with my fingers. She was so small and fragile, so damn perfect. “You look just like your grandmother.” I kissed her forehead. “She would have loved you, Sofia.”
My mom died when she wasn’t much older than me. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about her. She was always with me. And even when I was doing bad shit, I wondered if she was watching over me.
I loved Alex even more for naming our daughter after my mom. It meant more to me than she could comprehend.
My gaze shifted to Alex.
