Vanessa sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her now noticeably rounded belly. The baby was six months along, and every kick felt like a little reminder of the life they had created—a mix of love and chaos. Exhaustion had become a constant companion, but tonight was different.
Vincenzo had left earlier to pick up his father, and a dinner party had been planned in honor of the visiting mafia allies. She had caught glimpses of the preparations—the elegant table settings, the soft glow of chandeliers, and the buzz of excitement among the staff. Now, she just waited, her thoughts a jumble of nervousness and anticipation.
Luca had delivered her attire for the evening—an elegant maternity gown in deep crimson. It was far from the usual mafia black suits and leather coats she was used to seeing. She ran her hand over the soft fabric, unsure of how she felt about dressing up for what was likely to be an intense evening.
Down at the port, Vincenzo adjusted his dark sunglasses, their reflective lenses shielding his calculating gaze. His father's ship had docked, and as the elder man stepped onto the concrete pier, there was no mistaking the resemblance. Lorenzo Giordano was tall and commanding, his long hair tied back neatly, giving him an air of timeless elegance. He looked more like Vincenzo's older brother than his father, a fact that often took people by surprise.
"Dad," Vincenzo greeted, his tone cool but respectful.
Lorenzo smiled faintly, his sharp eyes scanning his son. "You've built quite an empire, Vincenzo. Let's see if it's as solid as you claim."
With that, they both entered the car, the drive back to the penthouse marked by quiet conversations about business and family.
When they arrived, Vanessa caught sight of them from her bedroom window. She stared for a moment, her gaze lingering on Lorenzo. He carried himself with an ease that spoke of power and confidence, a trait Vincenzo had clearly inherited.
The door to her room opened, and Vincenzo walked in, his presence filling the space as it always did.
"Get up," he said gently, holding out his hand.
Vanessa gave him a tired look but accepted his help. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this," she admitted as he helped her sit upright.
"It's just my father," Vincenzo replied, smoothing her hair back with surprising tenderness. "He wants to meet you."
"Just your father?" she teased weakly, a small smile playing on her lips.
Vincenzo chuckled, the sound rare and comforting. "Fine. My very opinionated, very traditional father who's going to love you."
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "Love me? In this?" She gestured to her maternity gown.
"You're perfect," Vincenzo said simply, his hand resting briefly on her belly.
With his help, she stood, and they made their way down the hall. The wolves, as if sensing the importance of the moment, watched silently from their spots near the fireplace.
Lorenzo turned as they entered the room, his sharp gaze softening slightly as it landed on Vanessa.
"So, this is the woman who has managed to tame my son," he said, his voice rich with amusement.
Vanessa hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but Lorenzo stepped forward and took her hand gently.
"You're stronger than you look," he said, his tone approving. "It takes strength to stand beside a Giordano."
"Thank you," Vanessa said, her voice steady despite her nerves.
Vincenzo placed a protective arm around her, his silent support grounding her.
For the rest of the evening, the three of them talked, Lorenzo sharing stories of the past while occasionally observing Vanessa with a look that was both curious and impressed.
By the time dinner was served, the initial tension had faded, replaced by a sense of ease. And as Vanessa laughed at one of Lorenzo's stories, Vincenzo couldn't help but think that, for the first time in a long time, everything felt... right.