Chapter 15 Sienna
SIENNA
I stared at myself in the mirror, poking my belly.
Because there was an actual bump now. My mini Cactus had popped out seemingly overnight.
Seeing my body change was the best and worst. The best because it made me feel even more connected with Cactus, to the actual living creature growing inside me.
The worst because it meant my time was running out to tell my brother.
If it were winter, I could hide my changing body with chunky sweaters, but we were in the middle of an unbearable October heat wave, and the thought of adding any layers made me want to peel off my skin.
“It’s not that noticeable,” Juliet said. She was lounging on my bed in a crop top and shorts, her long pastel hair flowing out around her like a Renaissance painting.
I cocked my head. “What are the odds I could go my entire pregnancy without Matteo noticing?”
“Normally I would say you have pretty good odds since he is a man, but he’s also annoyingly observant. The other day when I was in their apartment because Romeo was out, Matteo kept bringing me water and snacks because he said I looked pale and was probably getting sick.”
“Were you?”
She groaned. “No, I was on my period. I finally had to tell him because he wanted to call the doctor. You should have seen his face—it was pretty priceless. But then he had a whole period care box delivered for me.”
I smiled. “Being a dad has brought out a whole new side of him.” I abandoned my spot in front of the mirror and lay down beside Juliet. “He didn’t use to be so…nurturing.”
Juliet shifted to lie on her side and faced me. “Is that hard for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“To see him be so nurturing to others now.”
I’d gotten my first period a week after my parents died. Mamma had already told me about them, so I knew what was happening, but having to navigate it without her had been agony.
I fixed my eyes back on the ceiling fan. It was spinning at top speed, moving hot, humid air around the room. Why were all ceiling fans so ugly? Maybe I could design a pretty one. Revolutionize the entire industry.
“It’s really nice to see the change in him,” I finally answered. “Clementine and Sofiya deserve it, and it’s made Matteo happier, too.”
“Of course you’re happy for them. But it’s okay to be sad for the younger version of you, too, who wanted that kind of care.”
Her words sliced me right open. We hadn’t known each other for very long, but she saw the real me in a way most people didn’t.
“Did you learn that line in therapy?”
Juliet chuckled. “You got me. I’ve been learning a lot about the importance of grieving your childhood. Because even if our lives are good now, it doesn’t erase the pain of when they weren’t.”
My childhood was practically unicorns and rainbows compared to what Juliet went through, but her words still meant a lot.
“So what I’m hearing you say is I should continue hiding my pregnancy from my brother and just show up one day saying I found this random baby and am keeping it?”
Juliet smacked my arm. “Nope. You agreed to tell him tonight.”
I let out a strangled shout and slammed my arms and legs against the mattress in an epic tantrum. Eventually, I tired myself out and stopped.
“Feel better?” Juliet’s face popped up in my line of sight. Without waiting for my response, she dragged me to a seated position. “Good. Let’s go.”
Sofiya and Juliet were doing their best to keep the conversation going at family dinner, but the pointed looks they kept throwing my way were anything but subtle.
Angelo had realized something was going on pretty much right away, and kept staring at me with narrowed eyes. Romeo, on the other hand, was oblivious as he gave all of us an exacting play-by-play of how he made his latest crocheting project—a stuffed animal Noodle—and Queenie’s reaction to it.
“She just pounced on him! Ripped off his ear like it was nothing!” He beamed, apparently thrilled at having a slightly murderous cat.
I leaned over to whisper in Sofiya’s ear. “Hand me the baby.”
Matteo was cleaning Clementine up from her meal of mashed sweet potatoes, shredded chicken, and ziti. Once he was done, Sofiya leaned over and grabbed her daughter from her high chair, handing her to me with a smirk that said she knew exactly what I was doing.
I hugged Clem to my chest, loving the squishy weight of her even as she grabbed my hair and pulled it. She let out a happy squeal when I kissed her cheeks. I couldn’t believe the little blob inside me would grow into a real, live person.
Matteo was staring at me with his signature scowl, and I hid my smug smile behind Clem. He wanted to be the one holding her always, but I needed her right now. To give me courage and…okay, yes, I was using her as an adorable baby shield. Sue me.
I pressed my cheek against the top of her head, her little blonde tufts soft and tickly against my skin as I tried to summon my courage.
The conversation lulled. When the silence stretched on a bit too long to be natural, I forced myself to look around the table.
Sofiya and Juliet stared pointedly at me, which had all the men looking at the three of us with befuddled expressions.
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Matteo asked. His hand went to the back of Sofiya’s neck like he was ready to pull her out of danger at a moment’s notice.
Clementine let out a sad little cry, her lower lip trembling like she could feel the tension in the room. “You’re okay, sweet girl,” I murmured, bouncing her gently in my arms.
“Give her to me,” Matteo barked.
I stood, but instead of walking to my brother, I took a step away. Clementine’s cries grew louder.
“Stop playing around, Sienna. Bring her over here,” he snapped.
Romeo stretched back in his chair, the picture of ease. “Is Sienna kidnapping Clem?”
“No,” Juliet said. “She’s just—”
“I’m pregnant.”
My blurted confession was partially drowned out by Clementine’s angry wail, so it took a couple of beats for it to sink in. Then chaos broke out.
Angelo had just taken a large drink of water and spat it out in a movie-worthy reaction.
The water spray shot across the table directly into Romeo’s face.
He pushed his chair back from the table with a shout, knocking the pan of baked ziti by his elbow to the floor.
Noodle bounded over to it with a happy bark, tail windmilling with excitement at his newly discovered bounty.
Sofiya shouted at him to leave it, which he did like the good boy he was, but not without giving everyone at the table the saddest eyes in the world.
Unfortunately, Queenie felt no such obligation to follow orders, so she leapt over Noodle and buried her face in baked ziti.
In the chaos, Clem forgot she was supposed to be upset.
She squealed in delight, shaking her chubby fists and laughing at Queenie, who pranced away from the table with a huge chunk of ziti clutched between her jaws.
The entire time, Matteo sat completely motionless, expression blank, and eyes locked on my face.
I kept my chin up and my face equally impassive.
I wouldn’t cower, wouldn’t be ashamed, but I couldn’t stop the churning in my stomach and the pounding of my heart.
For as much as he frustrated me, Matteo had been the only constant in my life.
He’d held me as a baby, had held my hand as he took me away from our parents’ house, gunshots echoing in the air behind us.
Standing in front of him now, flayed open and exposed, my secret hanging between us, made me realize how desperately I wanted to please him.
How much I wanted him to be proud of me.
He slowly pushed up from the table, causing the room to fall silent. “Who?” His voice was dark and low, his body lined with violence.
“What?”
“Who. Is. The. Father.”
I chewed my lip. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t fucking test me, Sienna!”
Clementine startled at her dad’s raised voice, her lower lip trembling again. The devastation on Matteo’s face was clear, and he spoke low, soothing words in Italian to his daughter.
Baby shield plan was a success.
He ran his hand through his hair and glanced down at Sofiya. “You knew?”
She nodded.
He clenched his jaw, turning back to me. “Who is the father?” he asked again, his voice measured but no less intense.
I hitched Clem higher on my hip. “I don’t know. I met him in Paris. It was just a…casual fling.” My cheeks burned. Admitting to my brother that I’d had sex was the equivalent of actual torture.
“Paris.” He bit out the word like a curse.
“It was after the job. The Albanian women left, and I just wanted a weekend on my own. To be normal.” To my utter embarrassment, my voice cracked.
Sofiya grabbed Matteo’s hand, squeezing it to get his attention. He sat back down in his chair, and she leaned in to whisper something in his ear. He let out a strained breath before nodding.
“Alright,” she said. “We’re all going to clear out, and you two are going to talk. Calmly.”
Angelo was out of his seat immediately, clearly eager to flee. Romeo tugged Juliet up from her seat, and she threw me a worried look as he half-dragged her out of the apartment.
Traitors, the lot of them.
Sofiya rolled over and reached her hands out for her daughter. I shook my head and held Clementine tighter.
She pursed her lips, but I caught the smile she tried to hide. “You’ll be fine without your emotional support baby.”
I huffed before handing Clementine over. She immediately relaxed in her mom’s arms and a sensation tugged behind my ribcage. Would my baby feel that safe with me?
“Be nice.” Sofiya’s stern warning to Matteo echoed in the air even after she had disappeared down the hall.
I slowly lowered myself into a chair—the farthest one from my brother.
“Are you—” Matteo cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
His question disarmed me and my eyes stung with tears. I’d been prepared for him to shout his disappointment. His concern was so much worse.
“I’m okay.”
“Have you been to the doctor?”
“Yeah. Aria did an ultrasound. Everything looked good.”
“So you’re…twelve weeks?”
“Thirteen.”
He turned to stare out the window. I wished I could peel open his brain to know what he was thinking.
When I couldn’t handle the tension for a moment longer, I broke the silence.
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes flicked back to me, brow furrowed. “For what?”
I quickly brushed a finger over my cheeks before I interlaced my hands and stared at them. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want it to cause problems for you.”
Matteo rounded the table and sat down in the chair next to me. “Sienna.” His voice was devastatingly gentle. I didn’t look up.
His hand covered mine. It was the smallest amount of physical contact, and it still broke me open. My shoulders shook with a silent sob, and he sighed.
“You’re not causing me problems.”
“But the capos will be upset. What if they challenge you?”
His responding scoff was so arrogant, I took a break from my crying to roll my eyes.
“Let them try.”
This reaction was preferable to his anger, but I didn’t fully believe him. He tried so hard to shield me from Family conflict, and I knew that would continue even if I was the source of that conflict. Even if I was the burden.
I dabbed my eyes with a napkin. “Are you upset with me?”
His jaw ticked. “You agreed to certain rules for Paris. You put yourself in danger. How am I supposed to trust you when you pull shit like this?”
His harsh tone dragged me out of my sadness and my chest puffed with indignant anger. Good. That was much better.
“I’m twenty-seven years old, Matteo. I have to have a life sometimes.”
“Well, we can see what great judgement you exercised,” he snapped.
I tore my hand away from his, my eyes practically shooting fire. “I don’t think you of all people want to compare errors of judgement.”
His nostrils flared, but he didn’t argue. How could he when he had trusted a traitor over his own wife? I knew the mistake would haunt him forever and I was an asshole to throw it in his face, but I was too worked up to care.
“Do you really not know who the father is?”
“I really don’t know. It was just supposed to be an anonymous weekend thing.
We, um, used condoms.” Matteo’s pained expression mirrored my own.
I wouldn’t mind falling into the center of the earth and chilling there for a while to avoid having to talk about sex with my brother.
“But um, that didn’t work, I guess. I’ve tried to track him down, but I can’t find him. ”
“I’ll get Franco to look into it.”
Franco was the Family’s hacker. He was good, but not as good as me. I swallowed down my frustration at how little my brother trusted my skills.
“Doubt he’ll find anything, but fine.”
Queenie emerged from the kitchen, licking her lips. She must have finally finished her ziti bounty. She approached the pan, but I scooped her up before she could eat more.
“I’ll bring her back to Romeo and Juliet.”
We stood.
“Sienna…”
I waited, but Matteo seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he finally said.
“I will.”
He moved and, for a second, it seemed like he was going to hug me. Instead, he settled on an awkward pat on the shoulder. Some things never changed.