Chapter 9 - The Nursery on the Third Floor
One year later.
The Bellandi mansion on the Gold Coast was no longer a dark, silent fortress of stone and secrets.
It was filled with light, laughter, and the constant, energetic sound of three eight-year-old triplets running through the hallways.
The grand library had been expanded to include two wall-to-wall shelves of dragon fantasy novels for Mateo. The chess parlor was now Leo’s personal sanctuary, where he frequently beat high-ranking mafia bosses at speed chess during Sunday family dinners. Livia had her own art studio on the second floor, her paintings of Miss Pearl hanging proudly beside the antique portraits of historical Bellandi ancestors.
And on the third floor, in the sunlit room right beside the master suite, a new door had been painted in soft sky blue.
It was two o'clock on a warm Sunday afternoon.
I sat in a comfortable velvet rocking chair by the window of the new nursery, wearing a soft white linen dress. In my arms, wrapped in a pale blue cashmere blanket, slept a three-week-old baby boy with dark, tufted hair and pale gray eyes.
Nicholas Dante Bellandi.
The door opened quietly, and Dante stepped into the room.
He had removed his formal jacket, wearing only his dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He walked over to the rocking chair with silent, practiced steps, crouching down beside us.
He reached out one massive, calloused finger, gently touching the baby’s tiny, soft hand.
Nicholas stirred in his sleep, his tiny fingers instantly curling around his father’s finger with surprising strength.
Dante’s face—a face that still struck terror into the hearts of rival cartels and corrupt city officials—melted into a look of such absolute, profound tenderness that it brought tears to my eyes.
"He has your chin, Evelyn," Dante whispered, looking up at me.
"And he has your terrible, stubborn grip," I murmured with a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to Nicholas's forehead.
The door pushed open further, and the triplets tiptoed into the nursery.
Leo carried a small wooden chessboard he had carved himself; Mateo had brought his favorite dragon book; Livia was holding a brand-new, miniature white stuffed rabbit.
"Is Nicholas awake?" Livia whispered loudly.
"He's just waking up," I said, gesturing for them to come closer.
They gathered around the rocking chair, staring down at their baby brother with fierce, protective devotion.
"I carved him a knight piece," Leo announced proudly, setting the tiny wooden chess knight beside the crib. "I'm going to teach him the Sicilian Defense when he turns three."
"I'm going to read him the dragon book," Mateo added softly, gently stroking Nicholas's dark hair.
Livia carefully placed the tiny white rabbit inside the bassinet beside Nicholas. "Miss Pearl gave him her little sister. Her name is Snowball. So he won't be scared when it rains."
Dante stood up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind, leaning his chin gently atop my head as we all looked down at our four children.
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"Four children," Dante murmured into my hair, his voice thick with deep emotion. "My father always said a house with four Bellandi children is an unyielding fortress."
"It's not a fortress, Dante," I corrected softly, holding his hand over my shoulder, our platinum wedding bands catching the warm afternoon sun. "It's a home."
