Page 125 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

I need to thank him.

“He’s recovering well,” Mattia says, a small smile on his face.

“All thanks to you. You have no idea how much we were holding our breath, how terrified we were before. You saved him, Mattia.”

He shakes his head, brushing it off. “You don’t have to thank me. He’s my nephew. It was my responsibility.”

The word, nephew, feels strange, but in the best way. Like a missing piece of my world has suddenly fallen into place.

“No, really. Thank you. For everything. For being here when…” I hesitate, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “When Silvano wasn’t.”

Mattia’s jaw tightens slightly, his expression darkening at the mention of our father. “Silvano made his choices a long time ago. But I want you to know, you’ll always have a place in this family. You are family.”

His words shift something inside me.

Family.

The word has always been complicated, filled with so much pain and rejection. But now, with Mattia’s acceptance, it feels different. Like maybe, just maybe, I’m finally finding my place.

“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed with gratitude.

Mattia smiles again, more warmly this time. “When all of this is over, we’re throwing you a proper party. You deserve it.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to laugh. “I’d like that.”

Later that day, as Vincent is taken in for routine tests, my mother gently pulls me aside.

“You’ve been here almost a month, Layla. You need to step away for a little while. I’ll stay with Vincent. You need to take care of yourself too.”

I shake my head. “Mom, I can’t just leave him—”

She gives me a knowing look. “You need to rest, child. You owe that to your son.”

I hesitate, torn between my exhaustion and my instinct to stay by Vincent’s side. But my mother is right, I’m running on fumes, and I need to breathe.

“Okay. Thank you, Mom. For everything.”

We haven’t spoken much about what happened with Silvano, but the anger I once held toward my mother has faded. A quiet understanding has settled in its place.

I realize now that, in many ways, I’m no better. I kept Valentino away from his son, believing I was sparing him from the hurt and chaos I feared would follow. Maybe that’s all my mother was trying to do, protect me from a pain I wasn’t ready to face.

I decide to visit my shop. The renovations were completed two weeks ago, but I haven’t made time to see them. Before heading out, I stop by home to shower and change.

The simple act of washing away the stress of the past few days feels almost cathartic. By the time I’m dressed, I feel lighter.

When I arrive at my shop, I’m surprised to see Valentino waiting by the door. He smiles when he sees me, and my heart flutters, just a little.

He looks different today. Lighter. As if a burden has finally been lifted.

Maybe it’s because Vincent is doing better, or maybe he’s finally allowing himself to breathe.

Either way, he looks… good.

He’s dressed in a dark charcoal suit, the tailored fabric hugging his broad shoulders and tapering down to his lean waist in a way that’s downright sinful. But it’s not just his clothes that steal my breath away. It’s him.

The way his dark hair, just a touch tousled, falls across his forehead. The sharp cut of his jawline, the way his five o’clock shadow only adds to his rugged appeal. And then there are his eyes, intense, deep, a storm of emotion swirling in their depths as he watches me with an unreadable expression.

A slow smile tugs at his lips as he lifts one of the glasses in my direction, his gaze never leaving mine.

---