29. Epilogue
Chapter twenty-nine
Ettore
A s I strolled through the newly remodeled house, my eyes taking in every detail, I couldn’t help but marvel at the transformation. This was the same home that Liria had spent her childhood in, yet it seemed like an entirely different place now. The walls were freshly painted in a warm, inviting cream color and adorned with intricate crown molding. The floors gleamed with a polished mahogany finish, reflecting the natural light streaming in from the large windows. It was a perfect blend of modern elegance and old-world charm. As I ran my fingers along the smooth banister of the grand staircase, I could almost imagine Liria’s tiny hands doing the same many years ago.
The house reminded me of her, and not just because she grew up in it. Like the house, her inside had changed. A once cold and uninviting place felt warm, and lively, radiant even. She had let down her walls over time, much like the ones that were torn down in this house to create a more open and inviting space. Her heart was now a welcoming dwelling, much like the transformation the house had undergone.
As I inspected the tile to make sure each piece had been perfectly placed, I heard small cries coming from the second floor. I followed the sound with gentle steps as I climbed the staircase. The cries grew louder and more distinct, echoing softly within the silent expanses of the house. As I reached the top, I turned down the corridor towards the bedrooms, finding myself before a half-open door from which the sound emanated.
Liria stood in the dimly lit room, her back turned towards me. She swayed gently as she cradled our precious newborn son, Luca, in her arms.
“Shh,” she said to Luca. “It’s okay.”
Her voice was soothing, a tender lullaby that seemed to emanate from her very soul. I watched as she traced soft patterns on Luca’s tiny back, trying to get his tears to subside.
“I can take him,” I offered, stepping into the room on silent feet. She turned to me, fatigue etched into the lines of her face, but her eyes sparkling with a love so profound it made my heart ache.
“That’s ok,” she whispered, meeting my gaze over the top of Luca’s fuzzy head. “I’ve got him.”
“But I want to,” I said, wanting to give my wife a break. She had been working so hard since Luca was born.
“Okay,” she said, gently passing him to me.
As my arms cradled Luca, his crying immediately subsided. His small, innocent face contorted in confusion before he finally settled, looking up at me with dark blue eyes — a mirror of Liria’s. I felt a warm smile spread across my face as I looked down at him. Within a minute, his eyelids grew heavy, and he fell into a deep sleep.
“How did you do that?!” Liria whispered, her voice filled with amazement and a hint of playful jealousy.
I chuckled softly, placing Luca in his crib. “Magic, perhaps.”
“Pft,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. “Teach me your sorcery.”
“Only if you promise to use it for the power of good,” I teased, drawing her close. Liria’s laughter echoed softly around the room, a sound that warmed my heart more than any fire.
“I want another one,” I said suddenly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“Well, me too. In like two years, when Luca is a little older and-”
“I meant right now,” I said, cutting her off.
She cackled at me. “It hasn’t even been six weeks. I’m not allowed to have sex yet, per the doctor’s order.”
“At exactly six weeks.” I lowered my hand and tapped on her slit through her panties. “I will be here at least twice a day.”
Her laughter turned into a delighted squeal, and she slapped my chest playfully. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?” She shook her head at me, a soft smile on her face.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m just saying. I love our family.”
“I love you both, too.”
This wasn’t how I pictured my future. When I previously thought of it, it was always how I would grow as a Mafia Don. But Liria and Luca changed everything. Now, the power struggles and the bloody fights seemed futile before the thought of Liria’s smile or Luca’s tiny grasping fingers. They were everything to me, and I wouldn’t have wanted any other outcome.