CHAPTER SIX
MARIA
“Men,” I muttered under my breath. “Always so controlling. Always so convinced they know best.”
I threw my hands in the air, pacing back and forth. “Oh, Maria, Luca will handle it. Oh, Maria, this isn’t your world. Oh, Maria, you should let the men take care of things! What is this? The Middle Ages?”
My blood was boiling. Of course, Lorenzo would be like this. They always were. First, my dad, then Luca, then my uncle, now Lorenzo. It was as if I didn’t have a functioning brain in my head and hadn’t survived on my own for five years—as if I couldn’t run my own damn business if I wanted to.
Luca’s voice cut through my rant. “Maria, who exactly are you yelling at?”
I turned to find my older brother standing a few feet away with his arms crossed and an amused look on his face.
“Oh great, another man here to tell me what to do. Fantastic. Really, I was just thinking to myself, ‘You know what would be great? If Luca came along to add to my list of problems.’”
Luca sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re upset.”
“No kidding.”
“Listen, I just want to make sure this marriage doesn’t fall apart again. If Enrico gets even a whiff of doubt, he’ll find a way to take everything.”
I threw my hands up. “Oh, wow! Look at that! Another man making decisions for me. What a shock!”
Luca frowned. “Maria, that’s not—”
“It is! You’re doing the same thing you did years ago.”
His face changed, shoulders stiffening. “What?”
I took a deep breath, my hands shaking. “This. Telling me what to do. Thinking you know what’s best for me. I told you years back that I wasn’t ready, and you had brushed it off. That’s why I didn’t tell you about my pregnancy.”
Luca’s expression faltered. He took a slow step forward. “Maria…”
I shook my head, trying to push back the lump in my throat. “I knew exactly how it would go. You would have tried to fix it and marry me off to someone if it didn’t work with Lorenzo. Control the situation. You wouldn’t have listened to what I wanted.”
Luca stayed quiet for a moment, looking down. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. “You’re right.”
I blinked. “Wait. What?”
“I was too controlling. Too focused on getting the inheritance, too focused on protecting what was yours instead of trusting you. And I’m sorry.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Luca? Apologizing?
He rubbed his jaw. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was keeping you safe so you wouldn’t lack for anything. But I see now that I made you feel trapped. That guilt has haunted me for years.”
I swallowed hard, arms crossing over my chest. “It did.”
Luca nodded, letting out a long breath. “If you don’t want to go through with this marriage, I’ll understand.”
I hesitated. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to walk away from all of this. But then I thought of Enrico. I thought of what he would do with my father’s property and how he would tear apart the last thing my father ever built. Then, I thought of Lorenzo. I couldn’t hurt him again. I couldn’t hurt myself by leaving him again.
I exhaled slowly. “I’m going through with it.”
Luca studied me, searching my face for any sign of hesitation. “Because you want to?”
“Because I don’t want Enrico to win.”
Luca nodded once, understanding. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Then we do this together.”
For the first time in a long time, I felt like my brother was actually on my side.
*****
Matteo was on the floor playing with Kayla when I stepped into his room. His little hands gripped the toy truck, making soft vroom-vroom sounds as he pushed it along the rug. Kayla, the ever-patient one, sat beside him, fiddling with her phone. She gave me a nod, acknowledging my presence right before she left.
“Alright, little man, bedtime.”
Matteo pouted. “Five more minutes.”
“Five more minutes turns into ten. Ten turns into twenty, and then suddenly, you’re running a casino in Las Vegas.” I scooped him up, ignoring his dramatic groan. “You need sleep, baby.”
He clung to me as I tucked him in, his little fingers curling into my shirt. I sat beside him, smoothing out the blanket over his tiny frame. “Want a bedtime story?”
Matteo’s eyes lit up. “Yes! But not a boring one.”
I smirked. “Oh, so all my previous stories have been boring?”
He giggled. “A little.”
I placed a hand on my heart. “Wow. The betrayal.”
He laughed harder, his tiny shoulders shaking. “Tell me one about a pirate! But make him funny. And he has to have a talking parrot.”
“A funny pirate with a talking parrot. Got it.” I thought for a moment, then began, “Once upon a time, there was a pirate named Captain Stinky Boots—”
Matteo burst into giggles. “Stinky Boots?”
“Yes. Because he never washed his socks.” I wrinkled my nose. “And boy, did they smell. His crew always fainted when he took his boots off.”
Matteo was laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach. “Mama, that’s so gross!”
“Well, it gets worse. One day, his talking parrot, Sir Squawks-a-Lot, said, ‘Captain, either you wash those socks, or I’m flying away forever!’”
Matteo gasped dramatically. “No!”
“Yes! And Captain Stinky Boots had to make a choice. So, do you know what he did?”
Matteo shook his head, eyes wide with excitement.
“He threw his socks into the ocean! And do you know what happened?”
Matteo’s voice was barely a whisper. “What?”
“All the fish fainted! Even the sharks swam away! And from that day on, Captain Stinky Boots became Captain Fresh Socks.”
Matteo was rolling with laughter. “That’s the best story ever!”
I grinned, loving the sound of his happiness. I wished I could bottle it up and keep it safe forever.
As his laughter died down, he yawned and snuggled deeper into his blanket. His small hand reached for mine. “Mama, are we gonna stay here?”
I hesitated, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “For now.”
His brow furrowed. “For how long?”
“Until things settle.” That was the best I could give him. He deserved more than uncertainty, but right now, that was all I had.
I kissed his forehead. “This is about giving you a better life, Matteo. I want you to be safe and have stability.”
His small hands clutched the blanket. “The big man. He’s my uncle?”
“Yes, he’s my brother. So that makes him your Uncle Luca.”
Matteo seemed to consider that. Then, in a quiet voice, he asked, “And the other tall man?”
My stomach dropped. “What other tall man?”
His sleepy eyes blinked up at me. “The tall man close to Uncle Luca. Is he my daddy?”
A cold wave washed over me. I hadn’t expected that. I forced my voice to stay even. “No, baby. Lorenzo is just…helping. Why would you think that he is?”
Matteo yawned and snuggled deeper into his blanket. “Because I don’t have a daddy.”
I bit my lip, the pain of his words hitting me, but I brushed it off immediately, smoothing his hair. “Close your eyes, love.”
He obeyed, his breathing evening out within minutes, but I sat there for a while, staring at him.
Was this a mistake? Coming back? Bringing him into this world? I told myself it was temporary and that I was only doing what was necessary. But looking at my son, knowing he was already searching for a father figure in a man who wasn’t staying, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I stood, pressing a kiss to Matteo’s forehead. Then I walked out, closing the door softly behind me, wondering if I had made the worst mistake of my life.
I exhaled, dragging a hand down my face. Maybe I was fooling myself. Maybe this wasn’t just about Enrico. Maybe a part of me had hoped for something more, for a second chance.
But hope was dangerous, wasn’t it?