Chapter 18 - The Baby Nobody ExpectedFour months later, Rosa threw up on Dante’s shoes.
He stared down.
She stared down.
Sophia stared down.
Then Sophia announced:
“That’s disgusting.”
Rosa covered her mouth and ran toward the bathroom.
Dante followed.
“You’re sick.”
“I noticed.”
“We need a doctor.”
“I do not need a doctor because I threw up.”
“You never throw up.”
“Dante.”
“I’m calling Dr. Lewis.”
Rosa slammed the bathroom door.
Sophia looked up at him.
“Mommy mad.”
“Yes.”
“You’re grumpy.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe don’t talk.”
Dante looked at her.
“That is surprisingly good advice.”
Twenty minutes later, Rosa emerged holding something behind her back.
Her face looked strange.
Dante stood.
“What?”
“Sit.”
His expression darkened.
“Why?”
“Because for once in your life I would like to tell you something without you pacing.”
He sat.
Sophia climbed beside him.
Rosa held up a pregnancy test.
Dante stared.
Nothing happened.
Rosa’s smile faded.
“Dante?”
He blinked.
Sophia looked between them.
“What is it?”
Rosa knelt.
“It means there might be a baby.”
Sophia’s eyes widened.
“In your tummy?”
“Yes.”
Sophia screamed.
Dante still had not moved.
Rosa looked at him.
“Say something.”
He stood.
Walked three steps.
Turned.
Walked back.
“You told me not to pace.”
“Forget that.”
He paced.
Rosa laughed nervously.
“Are you happy?”
Dante stopped.
His eyes were wet.
That answered her.
He crossed the room and wrapped both arms around her.
Carefully.
Far too carefully.
Rosa laughed against his chest.
“I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”
“You are not carrying laundry.”
“Dante.”
“No stairs.”
“What?”
“No lifting.”
“Absolutely not.”
“No stress.”
She pulled back.
“I married you.”
“That was unnecessary.”
Sophia jumped around them.
“I’m a sister!”
Then she stopped.
Her face changed.
Rosa noticed.
“What?”
Sophia looked at Dante.
“You still love me?”
Dante’s heart broke so quickly he almost physically felt it.
He crouched.
“What?”
“If you have your baby.”
Rosa closed her eyes.
Sophia looked down.
“Daniel says I’m his baby.”
Dante understood.
Blood.
Names.
Adults making distinctions children never asked for.
He lifted Sophia into his arms.
“You listen to me.”
She looked at him.
“This baby will be my child.”
Sophia nodded.
“And you are my child too.”
“But Daniel—”
“Daniel is your father.”
Dante touched her chest.
“And I am the man who had absolutely no choice after a tiny criminal started following me down a hallway.”
Sophia smiled.
“You had choice.”
“No.”
“You picked me up.”
“You ordered me to.”
She giggled.
Dante kissed her forehead.
“There has never been one second since then when another child could replace you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Rosa wiped her eyes.
Sophia touched her stomach.
“Can it hear me?”
“Not yet.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Sophia leaned toward Rosa’s belly anyway.
“Hello. I’m Sophia. Dante is grumpy but he makes stars pancakes.”
Dante looked offended.
Rosa laughed so hard she cried.
The pregnancy changed the estate.
Dante became unbearable.
Rosa was prohibited from carrying grocery bags.
Then laundry baskets.
Then a vase.
When he tried to forbid her from walking down the main staircase alone, she threatened to move into Daniel’s apartment.
Dante immediately reconsidered.
Daniel found the entire situation hilarious.
“You were shot without blinking,” he told Dante.
Dante looked through the window at Rosa.
“She sneezed twice yesterday.”
Daniel stared.
“Pregnant women sneeze.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
For the first time in years, danger was not the loudest thing inside the Falcone house.
Life was.
The Voss network collapsed under Thomas’s records.
Marina testified.
Daniel testified.
Dante voluntarily turned over records connected to his father’s businesses.
There were legal consequences.
Financial ones too.
He accepted them.
Rosa watched the man who once measured power by how many people feared him learn to measure it by how little he needed fear anymore.
Then, during Rosa’s twenty-week ultrasound, the technician became quiet.
Dante immediately stood.
“What?”
The technician smiled.
“Nothing bad.”
Dante did not sit.
“What?”
She turned the monitor.
“Well…”
Rosa looked.
Then laughed.
Dante frowned.
“What?”
The technician pointed.
“Baby A.”
Dante stared.
Then she moved the wand.
“And Baby B.”
Silence.
Rosa covered her mouth.
Sophia, who had been allowed into the room for the final minutes, screamed:
“TWO?”
Dante sat down.
Rosa looked at him.
“You okay?”
He stared at the screen.
“Two.”
“Yes.”
“Babies.”
“That is generally how twins work.”
Sophia climbed onto his knee.
“You look scared.”
Dante whispered:
“I am.”
Sophia patted his cheek.
“Sad water helps.”
May you like
Rosa laughed.
And Dante Falcone—former mafia boss, survivor of bullets, betrayal, grief, and a three-year-old’s relentless honesty—actually cried.
