Page 22 of The Bonventi War
11
GIO
Ilean over Enzo's mahogany desk, spreading out the blueprints for the new warehouse. Marco lounges in the leather armchair beside me, whiskey in hand, while Enzo paces behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear.
"If we move the security detail here—" I start, but the study door swings open with force, slamming against the wall.
Enzo's wife, Livia, rushes in, her face flushed and hair disheveled. In her arms, their baby wails at an ear-piercing pitch.
"Enzo, please," Livia pleads, shifting the baby in her arms. "I've tried everything—feeding, changing, rocking. He won't stop crying."
Enzo cuts his call short, tossing his phone onto the desk. He reaches for his son, and the second the baby lands in his arms, the crying becomes more of a whimper.
"Thank God it's working," Livia exhales, collapsing onto the couch. She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes. "I swear, lately, he only wants you, Enzo. He cries with everyoneelse. You're the only one who can calm him down," she says and brushes the hair out of her face. "Sorry for interrupting, guys."
"Don't worry about it, Liv," I say and exchange a look with Marco, who's trying not to laugh. Our fearsome Don, leader of the Bonventi family, is now swaying gently with a baby in his arms. The sight would be comical if it weren't so damn endearing.
"Even the nurses can't settle him?" Marco asks, setting his glass down.
Livia shakes her head. "No one. Just his father." She leans forward. "I don't know if I should be relieved or offended."
Enzo smiles as he looks down at his son. "He knows what he wants. Like a true Bonventi."
I lean back against the desk, watching my brother with his child. Something I've been doing a lot lately now that his kid is here. It stirs something in my chest—something I quickly push away. "Better hope he doesn't inherit your temper too, Zo."
"Oh, he already has," Livia mutters. "You should hear him when he's hungry. Sounds just like Enzo in a bad meeting."
Marco laughs. "So… every meeting?"
Before Enzo can respond, the baby lets out a tiny whimper and his face scrunches up and he starts wailing again. Livia sits up, alarm flashing in her eyes.
"On no," she mutters. "Enzo, what do we do?"
Enzo hesitates, shifting the baby in his arms.
Marco snorts. "And here I thought you had the magic touch."
I push off the desk, reaching a hand out. "Here, give him to his favorite uncle."
Enzo gives me a skeptical look but hands him over. The second I settle him against my chest, the baby snuggles in and lets out a tiny sigh—completely at peace.
Livia stares. "You have got to be kidding me."
Marco bursts out laughing. "Well, would you look at that."
Livia shakes her head, blinking as if she can't believe what she's seeing. "You mean I could've been sleeping this whole time instead of pacing the hallways? You're telling me all he wanted was Gio?"
I smile down at the kid, who's now gripping the fabric of my shirt in his little fist. "Can't blame him. I'm a pretty likable guy."
Livia groans and flops back onto the couch. "That's it. I give up." Then, after a beat, she smiles. "So Gio, when are we going to see your heir enter this world?"
I snort. "Not anytime soon, Liv."
"Oh, come on," she presses. "Wouldn't it be nice," she says, gesturing the baby. "Another strong Bonventi boy to carry on the legacy? Or maybe a Bonventi princess to adore?"
I look down at my little sleeping nephew.
Livia's words hit differently than I expect. A child of my own. I've never really thought about it. I was always too focused on the family business, on protecting what we already have. But now, seeing how Enzo is with his son and our recent talks of fatherhood.
