We’d just finished a delicious liver paté with warm Brioche and two glasses of Viognier, my favorite white wine, when I gathered my courage. “Do you still not want any more children?” I meant to ask it in a calm, low voice, but instead I’d blurted it out.

Cassio lowered his glass slowly, brows pulling tight. “Are you…?”

I gave him a look then raised my almost empty wine glass. “Really? You think I’d drink two glasses of wine if I were pregnant?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t think about it.”

“Men,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile. “So, what do you say?”

I was oddly nervous about this. Cassio and I talked about almost everything, except for the kind of business dealings he deemed too brutal for me—and the secret about Simona and Daniele I still carried in the deepest corner of my heart.

Cassio put his hand on mine. “Do you want another child?”

Another child. Not a child, not your own child. We’d come such a long way, and now there was absolutely no doubt that Simona and Daniele were my children too.

“I don’t feel like our family is complete yet. I want to have a baby to cuddle again.”

“They also cry, vomit, and poop, and once they don’t do that anymore, they throw the worst tantrums. You really want that?”

I grinned. “Yes.”

Cassio shook his head as if I was unreasonable, but from the gentle look in his eyes, I knew I had him. “So?”

“If you want another baby, you’ll get it.”

“But what about you? I don’t want you to give me a baby only to do me a favor.”

Cassio bent over the table. “Trust me, giving you a baby isn’t a chore for me.” I slapped his forearm lightly, and he continued in an even lower voice. “I’d love to have a baby with you.”

“We can start today,” I whispered and ran my high heel up his trouser leg, smiling suggestively. In his form-fitting suit, he looked irresistible.

One corner of his mouth rose. “Are you sure you want to miss the Canard à l’orange and the Crepe Suzette?” Hearing Cassio speak French, even if it was only to praise a duck in orange sauce and pancakes was almost too much for what little control I had left.

I pressed my heel against his crotch, causing him to form a low hiss in his throat. “Okay, food first, sex later.”

He shook his head but couldn’t say anything because the waiter was heading our way with our main course.

We spent Christmas at our beach house like we’d done the two previous years. Despite the cold, we loved to take strolls along the beach. For Cassio, it was a way to get away from the weight of his responsibilities for a couple of days. When he was home, someone always wanted something from him. That was the problem if you were Underboss. Dad had always delegated most of the work. Cassio preferred to have control.

Simona and Daniele decorated the Christmas tree while I prepared Christmas dinner for the family. Loulou hovered beside me, hoping a slice of bacon would drop to the floor. It had become tradition that Cassio’s sisters and their families, as well as his parents, came over to us to celebrate. My parents didn’t want to drive long distances in winter, so we always visited them in Baltimore after Christmas.

I had a special Christmas present for Cassio that I would give him once we were alone. A gift box filled with a cute onesie with the words “Hello, Dad,” earplugs, Advil, and rug cleaner as a joke for that one time Simona ripped away her diaper and pooed on our living room rug after eating red beet. It was a memorable moment that the rug didn’t survive. Apparently beet was harder to get out of fabric than blood.

I couldn’t wait for his reaction.

When I didn’t drink wine during dinner, Mia gave me a knowing look, and Cassio, too, seemed to catch on quickly. What worried me more was Mansueto’s eager expression. He’d kept his promise and not mentioned the paternity test again, but his silence didn’t mean it wasn’t still in his mind. His health had deteriorated rapidly in the last few months. He needed a wheelchair and had lost plenty of weight. Getting an heir, one who was related to him in blood, might be one of the last things he wanted to accomplish in his life.

Even before Giulia gave me my Christmas present, I knew she was pregnant and not only because she wasn’t drinking wine. She’d acted differently in the last couple of weeks. Subtle changes. She’d occasionally touch her breasts as if they ached. She also hadn’t felt well in the morning. I never asked because I wanted to give her time to come to terms with it.

Of course, everyone else picked up on it during dinner as well. Giulia always drank a glass of white wine with her food.

Before Father and Mother left, he took me aside. I knew what was coming. “You should consider doing a paternity test now. Your unborn child deserves it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I whispered harshly. Daniele and Simona were saying goodbye to their cousins and too far away to hear anything.

“If it’s a boy, he might be your true heir.”

“This discussion is over.”

“I’m old. I don’t know how long I still have—”

“Which is why you shouldn’t destroy our relationship now.”

Father nodded then motioned for Mother to roll him out of the house.

Giulia watched me worriedly. I gave her a tight smile. She didn’t need to know about this.

When I opened Giulia’s box later in our bedroom, I felt a little stunned, even though I’d known what it would reveal. I was forty. After Gaia’s death, I had been sure I’d never become a father again, and now here I was.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered when I didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

I wrapped her in a gentle embrace, kissing her sweet mouth. “That was quick.” Pride rang in my voice.

Giulia rolled her eyes. “We practiced so hard over the years, your swimmers are practically ready for Olympic gold.”

Even after all these years, Giulia’s quick wit still often caught me off guard. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Kiss me?”

I did, then I pulled back. “Should we tell Simona and Daniele tomorrow?”

Giulia hesitated.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy.” They had accepted Giulia as their mother. Daniele hardly ever mentioned Gaia, and Simona didn’t remember anything of her.

Worry flickered across Giulia’s face, and I realized she hadn’t been worried about our kids not accepting a baby—until my inconsiderate words. “That wasn’t why you hesitated.”

“No, I just thought we should wait a few more weeks. I don’t want something to happen.” She searched my eyes. “They will be happy, right?”

“Of course. Then they have someone else to torture.” Those two were like cats and dogs sometimes, especially now that they grew older and Daniele was trying to appear cool.

We waited six more weeks before we announced the pregnancy to them at the dining table one evening.

For a moment, both of them only watched with wide eyes. Then they began to cheer. They didn’t know what a baby meant: babysitting and diaper changing duties.