Page 87 of Brutal Vows

I quirk a brow and smirk around his digit.

He pulls his thumb free and kisses me so thoroughly my worries fade away and he becomes the center of my universe. When he lifts his mouth away from mine, I rise onto tiptoes and chase him, but he nips my bottom lip and wraps his long, thick fingers around my throat.

“Thank you for the distraction,gattina. I needed that,” he murmurs.

After a moment of working through his words, my mind finally understands their meaning.

He’s nervous about meeting our goddaughter for the first time too, and even though my mini freak out had nothing to do with alleviating his conundrum, he takes the pressure off me with his heartfelt thanks.

I swallow and wrap my arms around him. He hugs me back, and for a moment, we just stand there and enjoy each other.

“Alright, let’s go meet the newest addition to the Russo family,” I say.

I slip out from the corner and weave my fingers within his. He tugs me back into his arms and pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You said that wrong. Let’s go meet the newest member ofourfamily,” he snarls.

“Of course. Whatever you say,il mio sovrano,” I respond in a high, overly sweet voice.

He smiles and turns me toward the hall. With a stinging swat to my ass, he urges me forward and silently promises to get his revenge later. I send him a skeptical look over my shoulder. He quirks a brow.

I ring the bell before he retaliates.

Even though they received a notification when we selected their floor in the elevator, Nico doesn’t open the door for a few moments, and one look at him is enough to explain why.

Baby vomit covers the entire front of his shirt. His mussed hair and stained pants have fared slightly better, but I never thought I’d see Nico Russo, the most ruthless mafia don in New York City, look so disheveled.

He waves us in and leads us straight to the kitchen for a thorough round of hand and arm washing. A small stack of dishes and some dirty bottles sit in the sink and several empty food containers lie on the counter, but the place is overall tidy.

After approving our clean hands, Nico nods and gestures for us to follow him down the hall to the master bedroom.

Serenity sits in the glider with a pink bundle in her arms. Her smile, although tired, is so full of joy tears burn the back of my eyes, and I can’t help but smile back at her.

Nico moves across the room and scoops her up as though she weighs nothing. He lowers her feet to the floor and wraps his arms under hers from behind, supporting the precious cargo as he looks at first Ermanno, then me.

His smooth voice demands our attention despite his gentle tone.

“Ermanno and Loretta Mancini, we would be honored if you would accept our daughter, Perla Russo, as yourfiglioccia,” Nico says.

Even though they already asked us, my breath hitches. A tiny fist pops out from the blankets. Serenity chuckles and folds the swaddle back, revealing the cutest, roundest little face I’ve ever seen.

Ermanno pulls me to his side. I float on numb feet as he guides me across the room. He tucks the blanket further back for a better view. His scarred, tatted hand seems gigantic next to her face. My heart threatens to burst when she wraps her tiny hand around his finger.

“We promise to protect, cherish, and guide her through all of life’s ups and downs,” he vows.

Emotions rush through me and I need so much more than words to convey how I feel, so I reach under Perla and splay my hand over the back of Serenity’s, trapping Nico’s arm with mine, and lean against Ermanno. Connecting us through touch, I brush my fingertip over Perla’s cheek and whisper the words thrumming through my heart.

“We’ll always be there for you. Always.”

Serenity sniffles and smiles at me with watery eyes. “Thank you, Loretta. Here,” When she passes her daughter to me, I fight a wave of panic. She’s so small and frail. “You said always, right? Well, I got her cleaned up for you, but I need a shower.”

“I’ve never held a newborn before! How do I—”

“You already are. I knew you’d be a natural. All those martial arts kept you in tune with your body, but if you’re not sure, you can sit.”

Ermanno helps me to the glider while Nico picks up his wife. His dark eyes check over his daughter, but he shows how muchhe trusts his consigliere by carrying Serenity into the bathroom without a backward glance.

For a few minutes, we sit in quiet awe, soaking in every precious moment with the new life nestled in my lap, but a deep longing rolls over me and I offer the baby to Ermanno.

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