Page 104 of Vicious Heir

“Kids? Plural?”

“Parenthood won’t be easy,” I say, ignoring him. “We’re not going to rely on nannies and staff for everything.”

“I mean, we’ll rely on them forsomethings.”

I swat at him again. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Yes,amore mio, I most certainly am.” He pulls me against him, and his smile fades. “It’s just hard to think of this place that way. These rooms were my father’s rooms.”

I hesitate, wondering if I made a big mistake. I asked Donatella what she thought of this, and she said it was a wonderful way to turn sorrow into something happy. And the space is very good, almost perfect for what we’ll need. Plenty of room for a few children to grow up and be happy with room to expand as needed. This wing of the house hasn’t been used much over the years, and there’s more space than Adriano’s father ever needed.

But I can understand why it might be hard for him. I don’t want to push him too fast. I just thought it might be good, a way to help the grieving process.

“Think of it like a tribute to him. Maybe he would’ve liked that, you know? His grandchildren growing up in his old room?”

His mouth twitches into an almost-smile. “I think he would’ve, actually. Dad was always into family.” But the almost-smile goes away. “But it’s a lot. I’d have to run it past Bianca first.”

“She doesn’t even live here. I doubt she’ll mind.”

“Still—”

“I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m really not. I just thought you’d like this idea, is all.”

“Baby.” He tries to tug me close, but I pull away. His expression is dark and tortured. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make me understand. We don’t have to do anything to these rooms if you don’t want to. It really doesn’t matter.”

“Then why do you seem upset?”

“Because I want you to be excited,” I say, letting it burst out with more emotion than it should have. Donatella keeps saying I need to be patient, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait.

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “I am excited.”

“Are you? The first time I told you, you seemed like it was the greatest news you’d ever heard. But since then, whenever the baby comes up, you suddenly get moody. I don’t understand it.”

“I’m not getting fuckingmoody.”

“Babies are a lot of work. I get it, our lives are going to change, but this is good. This is a miracle. It’s what we want, right?”

“I want this child with you more than I want anything in the world,” he says, and the intensity of the look he gives me makes me believe him.

“So why don’t you seem like it?”

He hesitates and looks away. This is what always happens. We start talking about the future, his mood sours and darkens, and he finally finds a way to get out of the conversation. It’s going to happen again if I let him.

“Baby—”

I charge him like a bull. I slam into his chest, pull his face to mine, and I kiss him. I throw everything into that kiss, driving my tongue past his lips and teeth, clearly surprising him. I bite down, not too hard, but enough to make him grunt. Then I pull away while he seems off-guard.

“Just tell me the truth,” I say, breathing hard. I was trying to unbalance him enough with the kiss that he’d open up, but I think I only succeeded in turning myself on.

He sucks in a breath. His lips open. Then he shakes his head. “I don’t like talking about the future, especially not in this room, because this is where I’m going to end up. Just like him.”

“Adriano—”

“No, listen for a second.” His grip on me tightens into iron. My heart’s hammering. I knew he had worries about this, but maybe I didn’t realize how deep it went. “Watching my father deteriorate was one of the most terrible experiences of my life. You can’t imagine what it was like for the one person you love most in the world to slowly forget who you are.”

“I do know,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. “My parents were addicts, remember? But they weren’t always so bad. I watched them spiral into their disease, and it took them both from me. A lot like the way dementia took your father from you.”

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