Chapter 53
MAX
The doctor assured us Sean would be fine after some stitches and a lot of rest. Rosalie didn’t like leaving his side, but she knew he’d be out cold for a while and needed a few days to recover.
Liam was gone, but I knew it was just a matter of when until something else happened, which was exactly why I was sitting in the old booth at the retro diner waiting for Mikhail and Giovanni, just like I had before.
Finally, the door creaked open, and Mikhail strolled in, wearing his usual stale expression as he slid into the booth. “Let’s get this over with,” he greeted, pouring coffee into his cup.
The diner was quiet this early in the morning, the clatter of dishes and the hum of the coffee machine the only sounds filling the space between us.
“Don’t you look chipper?” He didn’t. He looked like he’d gone through ten rounds with the devil himself. Dark circles under his eyes and everything.
He took a sip of coffee, his eyes narrowing on me. “Time change,” he grunted. “I was in Russia with Sloane.”
Before I could respond, the door opened again, and this time Giovanni walked in. He had Mira strapped to his chest, as usual. He made his way over to the booth and slid into the space next to Mikhail, who immediately shifted uncomfortably to give him more room.
“Morning,” Giovanni grunted, his voice as rough as sandpaper.
“Morning,” I replied, nodding to Mira, who was starting to stir in her carrier. “She’s getting bigger.”
Giovanni looked down at her with a smile.
“Yeah, she is. Growing like a weed,” he said, leaning back as Mira started to fuss again.
He began to bounce her gently, those big, calloused hands of his patting her back with a tenderness I didn’t expect from a guy who could rip a man apart without breaking a sweat.
Mikhail couldn’t help but laugh under his breath. “Looks like the old man’s gone soft, eh? Who would’ve thought Giovanni would be playing parent while me and Max run the show?”
“Watch it,” Giovanni warned. “This old man could still break you in half—diaper bag and all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mikhail said, waving a hand dismissively. “But you’re the one wiping spit off your shoulder, old man. Isn’t that something?”
Giovanni chuckled. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, boys. One day, you’ll be the ones with the spit-up, and I’ll be the one running the show again.”
I leaned back in my seat, watching the two of them argue like old friends even if the sharpness of their words suggested otherwise.
Mikhail raised an eyebrow, smirking as he took another sip of his coffee.
“We’ll see about that. For now, I’m happy with my clean shirts and late nights.
” He leaned back in the booth, his smirk growing wider.
“Besides, it’ll happen to Max before it happens to me.
You know how he is with Rosalie. He’ll be knee-deep in diapers before he knows it. ”
Giovanni raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Is that so? What makes you so sure?”
Mikhail chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how it is. Max just has that look in his eye. And I’ve seen the way Rose looks at him. It’s only a matter of time.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I could feel the heat rising to my face.
The thought of Rosalie was enough to send my mind spiraling.
It wasn’t that Mikhail was wrong. In fact, he was spot-on.
I’d been thinking about it more and more lately—Rosalie, with her wild curls and her feisty attitude.
And yeah, the idea of her carrying my babies had crossed my mind more than once.
A lot of them too. I’d been trying to convince her to stop taking her birth control, dropping hints, teasing her about how good she’d look pregnant; how she’d be an amazing mom.
But Rosalie, stubborn as always, would just roll her eyes and laugh it off, telling me she wasn’t ready yet.
But damn, was I ready. More than ready.
As I stared into my coffee, I couldn’t help but imagine it—Rosalie, pregnant with our first kid, her belly growing rounder each day.
She’d complain about the cravings, and I’d run out in the middle of the night to get whatever weird food she was suddenly obsessed with.
And when the baby came, I’d be right there every step of the way.
Giovanni’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “No, it’s not. This family doesn’t need any bastards, and they’re not even married yet. Which, Max, please get on with. I’d hate to have to tell your sister I had to kill you.”
He was right. It wasn’t just about wanting Rosalie to be mine—it was about making sure the world knew she was mine.
Giovanni wasn’t making a casual suggestion; this was a demand—one I understood clearly.
Our world came with rules, and one of the most sacred was ensuring the family name carried on without any question of legitimacy. Which I was well aware of.
That was exactly why I’d fought to get Rosalie to marry me, even despite how our wedding day had panned out. I hadn’t had to fight so hard, which was a shocker.
In fact, I think she’d wanted to marry me.
And that was how we’d found ourselves at a courthouse—if you could even call it that—at three in the morning.
It was downtown, tucked away inside a casino that prided itself on being open 24/7.
The receptionist had looked half-asleep when we approached the desk, but I didn’t care.
I was too busy watching Rosalie. She had that look in her eye—the one that told me she was all in, no matter how unconventional it was.
The receptionist had blinked a few times, clearly trying to wake herself up.
She’d given us a once-over, probably wondering what two people like us were doing getting married at such an ungodly hour in such an odd place, but she hadn’t asked any questions.
She’d just stamped the papers and handed us a number, telling us to wait our turn.
“You won’t have to kill me,” I finally told Giovanni as I took out an envelope from the pocket of my suit jacket and placed it on the table in front of him. “I already made her my wife.”
My wife.
I really liked the sound of that.
He glanced back up at me. “Is this it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, sliding the envelope closer. “Everything’s in there—proof of marriage, new contracts, and a few other details that need your approval.”
Giovanni picked up the envelope, flipping it open. “Good,” he said, taking it out to read the documents. He scanned them quickly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he read.
Mikhail leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of a sentence or two, but Giovanni turned the papers away from him.
“Looks thorough,” Giovanni finally said, “but I have a question.”
“I figured.”
“Why is Rosalie’s name on the marina? I thought that would be in our control.”
“The Romanos are still the holders, but the marina is in Rosalie’s name.”
Giovanni raised an eyebrow, looking between me and Mikhail. “That so? You’re letting her call the shots now?”
“I am.”
He leaned back in the booth. Mikhail glanced at me, his eyes narrowing, but he didn’t say anything.
“You’ve always been the one to control things, Max,” Giovanni finally said.
“And I still will be in control, but things are different now. I’m not the boss anymore. We’re partners, Rosalie and me. This isn’t about letting go of power—it’s about sharing it with someone I trust as much as I trust myself.”
Giovanni’s expression didn’t change, but I could see the gears turning in his mind as he weighed up my words, considering the implications. Mikhail, on the other hand, still looked skeptical, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced between us.
“Partners,” Giovanni repeated as if testing the word on his tongue. “That’s a big shift, Max. Are you sure she’s ready for that kind of responsibility? The marina isn’t just a piece of property—it’s a major asset. A crucial part of this.”
“I know,” I said, leaning forward slightly.
“And that’s why it’s in her name. Rosalie’s smart—smarter than most people give her credit for.
She’s been by my side through everything, and she’s earned the right to have a say in how things are run.
The marina is rightfully hers, and the marriage gives us access.
We’re lucky she’s even letting us use it. ”
Giovanni didn’t respond immediately. He was the kind of man who didn’t make decisions lightly, especially when it came to matters that could impact the family.
But I knew what I was doing. Rosalie wasn’t just a pretty face or a convenient ally.
She was my equal, and she’d proven time and time again that she could handle whatever came her way.
After what felt like an eternity, Giovanni finally nodded—a small, almost imperceptible gesture of approval.
“All right,” he said, his voice firm. “If you’re confident in her, then I trust your judgment.
But remember, Max, this is still a business.
Emotions can’t cloud your decisions. If she falters—”
“She won’t,” I interrupted, my voice leaving no room for doubt. “Rosalie knows what’s at stake, and she’s ready. I’ve made sure of it.”
Giovanni studied me for another moment before setting the papers down on the table. “Then I’ll leave it in your hands. But don’t forget, this family comes first. Always.”
“Always,” I agreed.