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epilogue
Melina
Three Months Later
“Antonio?”
“It’s me, baby. Go back to sleep, it’s late.”
“I didn’t know you were coming back from Greece tonight,” I mumble, trying to push away sleep and clear my head. I squint as I look at the clock on my nightstand. When I see the time, I sit up—sleep forgotten. “Honey, it’s three in the morning. You must be exhausted.”
“I am,” he confirms.
I struggle to look in the dark room as he undresses. When I can’t quite see him, I reach over and touch the lamp, making it instantly turn on. I tap it twice more so the light dims and quickly turn to see my man finish undressing. Sadly, he keeps his back turned to me, but I still enjoy the way his muscles move, making the beautiful designs on his body ripple.
“Why didn’t you stay there another night so you could get some sleep before coming home? Don’t tell me my brother doesn’t have guest rooms in that huge house he’s building.”
Marco took my husband’s suggestion and burned my father’s house to the ground. Not a one of us was sad to see it go. In fact, when it was done, we had a party. It’s the first time I can remember enjoying having Marco, Sebastian, Gio and Elias all around me. My brothers are now working under Marco—who now answers to Antonio or Niko. It has surprised me how well Antonio gets along with each of them, but I’m very grateful.
“I have a wife who is about to give birth. I didn’t want to be away from her any longer,” he says as he slides into bed and takes me in his arms.
I giggle. “I’m not that close to my due date, but I’m not complaining either. I missed you. Besides, I’m getting tired of watching Victorio and Angelina circling one another. They’re driving me crazy.”
“It can’t be worse than watching your brother and Helena fight constantly. I seriously think Marco should give her what she wants and call the marriage off. At the rate they’re going, someone is going to die.”
“I think if Marco called the wedding off it would hurt Helen. She can deny it all she wants, but she cares for my brother.”
“I think you’re a romantic,” he laughs. “How are my favorite girls doing,” he says, his large hand spreading out over my stomach. As if our daughter can hear her father, she kicks against his hand. He leans down and kisses my stomach. “There’s my Isabetta,” he murmurs against my bellybutton.
My heart squeezes in my chest. I love everything about Antonio, but I truly adore the way he is with our future daughter. We decided to name her Isabetta, which was his grandmother’s middle name. She was special to him. From everything he says, his grandmother was a hell of a woman. She’s also the one that is memorialized in ink on his body. I love that our child will be connected to a strong female in her family.
“I love you, Antonio.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he says, sounding tired.
I curl into him, my eyes closing as I burrow into his chest. When I open them, I see the latest addition to my husband’s tattoos and smile. I move my finger over my name which is on a branch nestled right under his father’s name and directly over his heart. I kiss it as he gives me a squeeze. He also had a picture of me inked along his hip. Strands of my hair flow up and reach out toward his cock. He joked when he showed me, saying that I own that part of him too. Perhaps my favorite thing, though, is that our daughter’s name is on his heart with mine.
“Are you crying again,il mio tesoro?”
“Just a little,” I sniffle.
He pulls back to look at me. “Should I be worried something is wrong, or is this more pregnancy hormones on overload?”
I slap at his chest. “The latter,” I grumble. “It just means a lot that you wanted our names so close to your dad’s.”
He cups his hand against the side of my face, his dark eyes twinkling at me full of love. He doesn’t hide that from me, and it means the world. I’ve spent most of my life being starved of love and wondering why I wasn’t worthy. Antonio never misses an opportunity to show me that not only am I worthy, but that I am the center of his world—which works out great since that is exactly what he is to mine.
“Lina, you’re my soul and my home. Please tell me that you realize that.”
“It’s slowly starting to register, but don’t be surprised if you need to tell me another half a million times before I fully understand.”
He laughs, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, get some rest. I’m told pregnant women need lots of sleep.”
“I’d argue with you,” I respond as I yawn, “but I’m too tired.”
I snuggle into him once more, closing my eyes and letting sleep wrap around me. I can feel Antonio’s lips against the top of my head. He holds me close, making me feel precious to him—as he always does.
Considering I was once a child starving for attention and needing someone to care for her, the woman in me knows what a gift having that from my husband is…
And I’ll never stop giving thanks.
