CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #2
"I am a doctor," Cassia reminded him gently, a faint, exhausted smile finally pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I know the symptoms. My cycle is late. The biology is fairly unambiguous."
Dante’s reaction was a chaotic, collision of pure, unfiltered joy tangled violently together with anxious concern.
A broken, breathless laugh tore its way out of his throat.
He surged forward, wrapping his arms securely around her and pulling her carefully against his chest, terrified of squeezing her too tightly but incapable of letting her go.
"Cassia," Dante breathed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He was trembling. The ruthless Don of the Fazzari family was shaking on the floor of a bathroom. "Are you alright? Are you in pain? What can I do? Tell me what you need."
"I just need to sit here for another minute," Cassia murmured, resting her cheek against the solid, comforting weight of his shoulder. She closed her eyes, her arms wrapping around his waist.
As he held her, desperately asking if she wanted water, if the floor was too cold, if he should carry her, the moment settled over Cassia with a strange sense of disbelief.
She looked at the walls of the home they had built. She felt the arms of the man who worshipped the very ground she walked on.
Cassia had grown up in the brutal, shifting tides of the foster system.
She had been an orphan, a girl who had fought for every single scrap of stability, every degree, every paycheck, on her own.
She had built her life with the unshakeable certainty that she would always be alone.
She had never imagined—not once, in her difficult, hard-fought life—that she would end up with a family of her own.
She had never dared to dream of a husband who loved her this deeply this completely.
And now, the possibility of a child. A child who would never know what it meant to be abandoned. A child who would be fiercely protected, unconditionally loved, and surrounded by a family that would burn the world down to keep them safe.
It had never seemed like something within reach for someone like her.
Tears, hot and unbidden, pricked at the corners of Cassia’s eyes. She pressed her face tighter against his neck, hiding them, but Dante felt the subtle shift in her breathing. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his thumbs gently wiping away the moisture from her cheeks.
"We are going to have a baby," Dante whispered, his eyes shining with a joy so bright it was almost blinding.
"It seems that way," Cassia agreed, a soft, wet laugh escaping her lips.
***
Two days later, the blood panels processed in the eighth-floor medical wing officially confirmed what Cassia already knew. The pregnancy was progressing perfectly.
The following Saturday, the family gathered for their weekly brunch in the grand, sunlit dining room on the twelfth floor. The long mahogany table was laden with food, the air buzzing with the usual chaotic, affectionate arguments of the Fazzari clan.
Dante and Cassia sat near the center of the table. Cassia had quietly swapped her usual dark roast espresso for a glass of iced water with lemon, a detail that did not escape the calculating eyes of Concetta Fazzari.
Dante didn't wait for his mother to ask the question. He couldn't have kept the secret for another minute if he had tried.
He stood up, tapping his spoon lightly against his water glass. The ringing sound cut through the noise, and the table fell silent instantly.
Dante looked down at Cassia, his hand resting securely on her shoulder, before looking out at the faces of his family. His aunts, his uncles, his sisters. The people who had survived the dark with him.
"Cassia and I have some news," Dante announced, his voice steady, carrying a rich, undeniable warmth that filled every corner of the room. "Cassia is pregnant. We are having a baby."
For one suspended heartbeat, the dining room was silent.
And then, it erupted.
Concetta Fazzari let out a loud, joyous sob, pressing her hands to her mouth as tears streamed freely down her face.
She pushed her chair back, rushing around the table to throw her arms around Cassia, kissing her cheeks repeatedly.
Isabella and Fina shrieked, practically vibrating with excitement, while Uncle Salvatore stood up, roaring his approval and clapping Dante on the back hard enough to bruise.
Cassia sat in the middle of the overwhelming chaos, accepting the hugs and the tears with a warm, slightly awkward grace that was her own.
She didn't push them away. She let the family surround her, feeling the pure joy radiating from every single person in the room.
They embraced the news wholeheartedly, celebrating the creation of new life in a family that had spent so many years mourning the dead.
At the far end of the table, Zoran Valente was leaning back in his chair, a massive, delighted grin spreading across his scarred face. He held his coffee cup up in a silent toast to Dante, shaking his head in amusement.
When the initial wave of shouting and crying finally began to settle, Zoran’s booming voice cut through the lingering chatter.
"I am incredibly happy for you both," Zoran announced, crossing his massive arms over his chest, his dark eyes dancing with unmistakable mischief as he looked directly at Cassia. "Truly, I am. But I do have one very serious logistical question for the Don."
Dante raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "What is it, Zoran?"
Zoran let out a booming laugh, pointing a finger between Dante and Cassia. "How on earth are we ever going to be able to manage a child with your genes? A kid with Dante’s, ruthless stubbornness, combined with the Doctor’s temper and complete lack of patience?"
Aunt Nettie gasped in mock horror, while Isabella burst into fresh giggles.
Cassia leveled a flat, deadpan stare at the enforcer, her pragmatic armor slipping perfectly back into place.
"We are going to manage it with strict, unwavering discipline, Zoran," Cassia shot back smoothly, picking up her glass of lemon water. "And by ensuring that the child is kept far, far away from your terrible influence."
The table dissolved into roaring laughter, Dante’s rich, joyous voice leading the chorus.
Cassia took a sip of her water, the faint curve of a smile resting permanently on her lips.
She looked at her husband, radiant and laughing in the sunlight, and then down at her own hands resting on the table.
She was, fundamentally terrified of what was to come, but for the first time in her life, she knew with certainty that she would not be facing it alone.