Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty Nine
Erica
The moment I step out of Nico’s car, I have the strongest urge to turn around and get back in.
Not because I don’t want to be here.
Because there are too many unknowns packed into one front door.
Nico comes around the hood and reaches for my hand like he knows I’m going to bolt.
My fingers are cold in his.
He squeezes once, and then we’re walking up the steps.
The front doors open before we even knock.
Warm light spills out. Voices. Movement. The smell of food—real food, not takeout.
A beautiful woman is the first thing I register.
She’s beautiful in the polished, put-together way that makes me stand a little straighter without meaning to. Dark hair pulled back. Nice dress. Earrings. The kind of smile that looks practiced but still genuine and friendly.
“Nico,” she says, and there’s affection in it.
Then her gaze flicks to me.
“And you must be Erica.”
My throat goes dry.
“Yes,” I manage. “Hi. Thank you for having me.”
“Erica,” Nico says. “This is Elena.”
Elena’s smile warms.
“Come in,” she says. “You’re right on time.”
Nico steps in, and I follow, trying not to look like I’m cataloging every room for exits.
The entry opens into a foyer, but we don’t have jackets to take off since it’s summer, so we’re quickly out of the safe foyer and into a big living space. It’s not cold. It’s not sterile. It’s… busy. Lived in. People are everywhere.
And then there’s a loud squeal and a small blur of movement.
A toddler comes barreling across the floor on tiny, determined legs.
“Neek! Neek!”
My brain barely has time to identify her before Nico’s crouching down and scooping her up. He throws her in the air and catches her, and she lets out a huge laugh.
She throws her arms around his neck and gives him a loud, smacking kiss.
“How’s my bambina, huh?” Nico says, tickling her.
Her laugh is bright. Her hands grab at his shirt like she’s trying to climb into it.
Something in my chest tightens.
Because I’ve seen Nico with a lot of faces.
Boss Nico. Stern Nico. Sir Nico. Tender Nico. Even Vulnerable Nico.
I have not seen this.
I have not seen him with a baby hanging off him like he’s a jungle gym, kissing her like he can’t help it.
My eyes sting, and I don’t know why, so I blink it away hard.
Elena watches them with a look that makes my throat tighten again.
“Alessandra. She adores him,” Elena says softly, like she’s explaining something obvious. “He’s her favorite person.”
Alessandra pats Nico’s face with her small hand, right on his faint scar, and my stomach drops reflexively.
Nico doesn’t even flinch.
He just catches her wrist gently and kisses her fingers.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “You being good?”
“Goo,” she says, proud.
He smiles. A real smile.
I’m going to pass out.
Nico turns his head slightly and finally seems to remember I exist.
His gaze meets mine for half a second.
Like he’s checking if I’m okay.
He shifts Alessandra to his other hip and keeps a hand on my back as he guides us farther in.
“Papa,” Nico calls.
Papa. Why do I find that so adorable?
And it’s like the crowd parts to make room for Luca Conti.
He’s tall. Imposing in a way that has nothing to do with size alone. It’s the posture. The eyes. The authority that doesn’t need to announce itself.
His gaze lands on Nico first, then the baby in his arms, then me.
I can feel myself trying to become smaller without meaning to.
Nico doesn’t let it happen. His hand stays at my back.
“Nico,” Luca says. His voice is even. Calm.
Then his gaze returns to me.
“And this must be Erica.”
“Yes,” I say, and my voice almost cracks. I clear my throat. “Hello, Mr. Conti.”
Luca’s mouth twitches slightly, like he notices everything.
“Luca,” he corrects. Not unkind. Just direct.
I nod once.
“Luca,” I repeat, doing my best not to sound like I’m about to faint.
He steps forward and holds out his hand.
I take it.
His grip is firm, quick.
He looks at Nico again.
“This is the one Vito has been running his mouth about?” Luca asks.
My soul exits my body.
Nico’s hand tightens at my back.
“Vito talks too much,” Nico says.
A woman’s laugh comes from somewhere behind us.
“Fact,” she says.
I turn and see a woman move in behind Vito, who’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. She bumps him lightly with her shoulder.
She’s put together, confident, and she has that same family resemblance that makes it obvious who she is.
Her eyes land on me.
Then she grins like we’re already friends.
“Caterina,” she says, and she steps forward.
Her energy is a relief.
“Hi,” I say, my voice loosening. “Erica.”
“I’ve been dying to meet you,” Caterina says.
Nico makes a quiet sound in his throat.
“Caterina,” he warns.
She lifts both hands.
“I’m not being sarcastic,” she says. “I really have been. The first woman that Nico ever brings home? I mean, come on.”
My eyes widen slightly at that, and I look at Nico.
The first?
Vito looks amused. Like he’s been waiting for my discomfort to show up so he can poke it.
He catches my gaze and gives me the smallest wink.
I immediately want the floor to open up.
Caterina turns and shoots him a look.
“Don’t start,” she says.
“I didn’t start anything,” Vito says, throwing his hands out.
“You exist,” Caterina replies.
Okay.
So this is what a big family sounds like.
Others move in from around the room to meet me.
A man introduces himself as Giovanni. The woman next to him is Bianca, and for half a second, I’m relieved, because she looks like warmth in human form. Dark hair. Bright eyes.
She steps forward and takes my hands without asking.
“You’re beautiful,” she says, immediately.
My brain stutters.
“Thank you,” I manage. “You’re the one behind the gelato.”
Her face lights up in delight.
“You liked it,” she says.
“Loved it,” I say. “I may have eaten all three pints, mostly by myself.”
“That’s my favorite compliment ever.” She laughs and looks at Nico. “I love her already.”
Giovanni’s mouth twitches, amused, and he tips his chin at me. “Welcome,” he says simply, like that word covers it all.
I have a feeling Bianca does most of the talking between them.
From behind her legs, a toddler with Bianca’s green eyes peeks out.
He watches me with serious focus, then looks up at Nico and lifts his arms.
“Unc,” he says.
Nico crouches and picks him up, too. One kid on each arm.
This may be too much for my hormones to handle right now.
Stephano’s gaze shifts back to me.
He points at my hair.
“Yel,” he says solemnly.
Caterina laughs.
“She is,” Caterina agrees. “Good job, Sté.”
My cheeks heat again, but this time it’s not dread. It’s… something like being included.
Nico shifts Alessandra again, and she pats his jaw, then rests her head on his shoulder like she’s done.
I can’t stop looking at it.
It’s absurd. How one small baby can make a man like Nico look… gentle.
Another man appears near Luca—handsome, sharp, eyes that scan the room like he’s taking in every angle. He claps Nico on the back and approaches me, takes both of my hands in his.
“Finally,” he says, like this is a long-awaited event. “Nico brings someone home.”
My face heats again.
“Antonio,” Nico says in warning.
Antonio’s grin turns wolfish. “Relax,” he says, like Nico’s tone is entertainment. “I’m being nice.”
His gaze flicks over me, then softens a fraction. “Lovely to meet you, bella,” he says and kisses each of my hands in turn.
“You too,” I say, a little flustered.
Nico steps up, suddenly without either of the kids, and puts his hand on my back.
“Ignore him. He’s a flirt,” he says, deadpan. “It’s terminal.”
Antonio flashes a charming grin.
“When a beautiful woman such as this is standing before me, how can I resist?”
I laugh a little. It’s hard not to.
And finally, the last of the uncles steps forward. I immediately clock him as the calmer one. Suit impeccable. Eyes kind but watchful.
He takes my hand. “Roberto,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”
And that’s it.
Beside him is a heavily pregnant woman.
So pregnant, my spine aches in sympathy just looking at her.
She smiles at me—genuine, warm.
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Olivia.”
“Hi,” I say, and I can’t help myself. My eyes flick to her belly. “Oh my God.”
Olivia laughs.
“Yep,” she says. “Any day now.” She pats her belly.
Roberto’s hand rests at the small of her back.
Luca lifts his hand once, and the room shifts.
Not silent. Not obedient. Just… attention turns his way.
“I believe that dinner is ready,” Luca says.
Everyone moves as one.
Nico keeps one hand on my back as we walk toward the dining room.
“Breathe,” he murmurs, low enough that only I hear it.
I manage it, barely.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“It’s a lot,” I say.
Nico’s mouth twitches, almost a smile.
“You get used to them,” he says. “Eventually.”
And then we step into the dining room, and I realize there’s no backing out now.