Elena
I blow warm air on my gloved hands to keep warm as I scan the winter festival entrance.
The festival grounds shimmer with twinkling lights strung between trees and booths.
Christmas carols float through the air, mixing with laughter and the scents of cinnamon and pine.
My heart skips when I spot Luca walking with our children.
Adalina holds his hand, while the boys walk in front of him.
For a moment, watching them approach, I can almost pretend we're a normal family.
"Mama!" Adalina breaks away first, racing toward me with her pink coat flapping behind her.
Rocco and Elio follow, their boots kicking up little puffs of snow.
"Did you see us? Did you see us come in?" Rocco calls.
I bend down, three excited bodies colliding with mine. "I did! You all look like you had fun last night."
"Daddy has a playroom!" Elio announces, eyes wide.
"And we made pancakes," Adalina adds, her little mittened hands framing my face. "Daddy put chocolate chips in mine that looked like a smiley face."
"Is that right?" I glance up at Luca who's now standing a few feet away, watching us with an expression I can't quite read.
Pride? Longing? Anger still simmering beneath the surface?
"And guess what?" Rocco leans in conspiratorially. "We all slept in Daddy's big bed because the house makes funny noises."
"It's just old," Luca says. "Like me."
The kids giggle, and despite everything between us, I smile too.
"You're not old," Adalina declares, returning to hug his leg. "You're just a daddy."
Something passes between Luca and me then.
It’s like a shared moment of wonder at these incredible little people we created.
The triplets tug at both of us now, eager to explore the festival, temporarily bridging the chasm between their parents with their innocent excitement.
I follow my children as they lead us through the festival.
We form an awkward procession, not quite together, not quite apart, connected only by the three excited children bouncing between us.
"Look, Mommy and Daddy!" Adalina points to a booth selling handcrafted knitted animal hats. “Can we get one? I want the panda.”
“Of course.” His expression is soft and sweet toward the kids. It's only when he looks at me that the ice returns.
As the kids examine the hats, Luca stands beside me, close enough that I can inhale his scent, making me wish I could lean into him and feel his warmth.
"They seem happy," he says quietly.
"They are. They've always wanted you, even when they didn't know who you were."
His jaw tightens. "Don't."
I fall silent, feeling chastised. I want him to know how I’ve struggled with my secret for so long. That my guilt isn’t just because I’ve been caught.
From behind us, I hear Marco's distinctive laugh.
Turning slightly, I catch sight of him with Gabriella and several other La Corona members, their eyes occasionally flicking toward our makeshift family scene.
Gabriella’s gaze is on me, and the coolness tells me she knows about the kids.
Of course she does.
Luca and Gabriella have always been close.
"They’re Monti children," someone murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.
"He didn’t know…" comes another voice.
Heat rises to my cheeks.
It’s no surprise people are talking.
They probably think I’m the worst.
Maybe they’re wondering how Luca will punish me for what I’ve done.
This is probably the biggest gossip La Corona has had since Isabella's scandal.
“I want the tiger,” Elio says, pulling the orange and black cap onto his head.
I force a smile, acutely aware of the watching eyes. "It’s fierce like you.”
“I changed my mind.” Adalina picks up a unicorn hat. “I want this one. Can I?”
Luca nods. “You can have them both.”
“Really?” Adalina squeals with delight.
“Can I have two too?” Rocco asks.
“Of course.”
The mother in me wants to stop Luca from indulging them.
The woman who betrayed him knows not to say anything.
What will it hurt for him to spoil them a little bit when this is all so new?
To keep myself from saying anything, I glance out toward the ice rink. I catch Dom watching us while he’s standing with Don Ferraza.
Behind him is Gio, whose hostile gaze is fixed firmly on Luca.
"Everyone's watching," I whisper to Luca.
"Let them," he replies, his hand briefly touching the small of my back as he steps forward to pay for the hats.
The casual possessiveness in his touch sends a shiver through me.
"The Monti children are enjoying the festival?" Dom asks, his voice pleasant but his eyes sharp. Behind him, Gio hovers like a shadow.
"They are," Luca answers before I can, his hand coming to rest on Rocco's shoulder. The possessive gesture isn't lost on Dom or me.
My cousin's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "I'd like a word, Luca. Family business."
"Anything you need to say can be said in front of Elena," Luca counters. “She should probably hear it.” Luca glances at Gio, and I’m shocked when after a moment, Gio looks away.
It’s a testament to Luca’s power.
“Leave us,” Dom says to Gio.
“Santa!” Rocco jumps up and down.
“Can we go see him?” Elio asks.
“Please?” Adalina presses her hands together like she’s pleading.
“Okay, but don’t wander off. Just go to Santa.” They’re off running to Santa before I can finish. I watch them as they get in line.
"Agent Blackwood approached Elena," Dom says once they're out of earshot. "Interesting timing."
"What are you implying?" Luca's voice drops dangerously low.
My stomach clenches as I realize Dom is going to accuse Luca of being the one orchestrating the downfall of La Corona.
"I find it curious how everything has unfolded. Each year you return home, and the FBI is in the shadows, stirring up trouble. Are you going to use those kids against us too?"
Luca steps forward, and I instinctively move between them. "Stop it, both of you."
"Your uncle destroyed my life once," Luca snarls, ignoring my effort to defuse the situation. "You think I'll let anyone do it again? You've never had the authority to keep me from what's mine."
I wince at his words, at the raw pain beneath them.
I was always selfishly thinking of myself.
Never of his years of exile, of people believing he betrayed my father.
"I won’t defend my father. He was a fucking asshole,” Dom acknowledges, "but I’m the one who has protected Elena and those children for years while you ran away to Italy."
"Protected them from me?" Luca laughs bitterly. "Or kept them from me?"
The accusation hangs in the air. My heart hammers as I realize Luca is suggesting that Dom knew all along.
"I never knew they were yours," Dom says quietly.
"And if you had?" Luca challenges.
"They're watching," I whisper, nodding toward our children who stand in line to talk to Santa, their eyes turned toward us.
I smile and wave at them so they don’t know the tension brewing between the adults in their lives.
"Your children deserve stability," Dom says, his voice dropping so only we can hear. "If you want to do right by them now, Luca, you need to do right by Elena too."
My cheeks burn at his suggestion.
I told him marriage wasn’t in the cards for me and Luca.
"That's not necessary," I interject quickly, not wanting Luca to think I want Dom to use his power to force Luca to marry me. "I don't want—"
“You disrespect me by mistreating my cousin,” Dom continues.
Luca's eyes narrow. "You're lecturing me about respect? You know what your father did, Dom. You know and you’ve never said a word. You’ve let the world believe I was to blame.”
I step between them again, placing a hand on each of their arms. "Stop. Both of you. I don't want a marriage out of obligation or respect or whatever misguided sense of honor you two are fighting about."
Dom looks at me with surprise. "Elena—"
"No." I cut him off. "I appreciate your looking out for me, Dom, I really do. But I don’t want our children to grow up in a home filled with resentment. They deserve better than parents who married because they felt they had to."
The festival continues around us, lights twinkling, children laughing, carols playing, but the merriment doesn’t break through the tension between us.
"What matters is that Rocco, Elio, and Adalina have both parents who love them," I continue. "They need us to figure out how to be parents together, not how to force a relationship that's broken."
Luca's eyes hold mine.
"The children come first," I say softly. "Not family politics, not old grudges, not even what we might want. Just them."
Both men take a breath and a step back, and I let out a breath in relief.
“Mommy! Daddy!” Adalina and Elio come running back to us, their faces flushed with excitement.
Immediately, I’m looking for Rocco.
“Santa's taking Rocco to see his real sleigh!" Elio announces, bouncing on his toes.
"What?" I ask.
"Santa." Adalina points toward the festival's North Pole display. "He said Rocco was extra good this year and could see the secret sleigh, but we had to wait our turn."
I look toward where Santa should be taking toy orders from children, but the seat is empty.
Cold dread floods my veins as I lock eyes with Luca.
I see my own terror reflected in his face.
"Where?" Luca demands, his voice sharp enough to make Elio flinch and Adelina to step back.
“Over there.” She points to the parking lot. "Santa said just Rocco first because he's the oldest."
Luca scans the perimeter and then runs into the direction of the parking lot
I grab both children's hands, my fingers trembling. "Did you know this Santa?”
Their brows pull together and I know I’m scaring them.
“It’s Santa.” Elio says, reminding me they don’t realize it’s an actor playing Santa.
Dom barks orders into his phone. "Lock down the exits. No one leaves with a child."
I pull Adalina and Elio close.
How could this happen?
They were right there.
Luca runs back. “No Santa.” He looks at Dom. "North side?"
Dom nods sharply. "I'll take south. My men are covering east and west."
If the situation weren’t so dire, I’d appreciate how these men who were moments ago adversaries are now united.
I want to go with them, but instead I gather Elio and Adalina close, hoping that they’ll find Rocco.
I clutch Adalina and Elio's hands so tightly they squirm, but I can't bring myself to loosen my grip.
Not when one of my babies has been taken.
Luca’s broad shoulders part the festival crowd.
I have to wonder about someone so brazen as to take a child in a venue full of deadly Mafia men, unless Santa is one of them.
Didn’t Roman fear there were more traitors in our midst?
I can barely breathe as reality settles over me.
Someone has taken my son.
After everything I've done to keep my children safe, I've failed.