At exactly two o’clock in the morning, a thirsty four-year-old boy padded barefoot into the mahogany hallway of New York’s most ruthless crime syndicate leader and shattered the illusion that had protected him for three years.

One year later.

The massive Rossi estate in the suburbs was filled with the sound of laughter. It was Leo’s fifth birthday party. The backyard was transformed into a carnival, complete with a bouncy castle, a magician, and dozens of children from Leo's prestigious private school.

Matteo stood on the patio, holding a beer, watching as Leo ruthlessly beat Dante in a game of water balloon dodgeball. The terrifying mafia enforcer was currently dripping wet and pouting, much to the amusement of the other guards.

"You’re going soft, Rossi," a voice teased from behind him.

Matteo turned to see Clara walking out onto the patio. She was radiant, her face glowing with happiness, and her hand resting protectively over the very prominent swell of her pregnant belly.

Matteo set his beer down and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. He kissed the side of her neck. "I am not soft. I am just heavily invested in my family's happiness."

"Leo asked if you were going to teach him how to shoot today," Clara laughed, leaning back into him.

"When he's ten," Matteo negotiated. "For now, he sticks to water balloons."

Matteo rested his large hand over Clara’s stomach, feeling a sudden, sharp kick against his palm. He grinned, a look of pure wonder crossing the face of the city’s most dangerous man.

"She's active today," Matteo murmured, kissing Clara’s cheek.