The doctor left the room quietly, promising he would return within the hour. The door clicked shut. Silence settled over the bedroom like a suffocating blanket.
Luca remained seated beside Aria, but the stillness in his body trembled with sothing volatile. Not grief. Not sorrow. Pure, unrestrained fear masked behind rigid control.
Aria could feel it in the way he held her. One arm wrapped around her back, the other hand protective over her stomach, his palm warm and firm as if he could shield the child inside her with nothing but his touch.
She lifted her eyes to him, seeing the hard tension set in his jaw, the muscle ticking as every scenario ran through his mind.
"Luca..." she whispered, her voice weak from pain and the sedative.
He looked at her instantly.
"You scared ," he said, and the way he said it—low, cracked, shaken—made her chest tighten.
"I am all right now," she breathed.
He shook his head sharply. "No. You are not. You were in enough pain that you could barely stand. Do not tell you are all right."
His voice was low but fierce, the kind of restrained fury that hid panic beneath it.
Aria touched his arm gently. "It was sudden. I did not expect—"
"That is exactly the problem." His voice rose slightly. Not angry. Afraid. "You did not expect it. You did not tell . You were in pain before I ca in the room."
Her breath caught. "It was just a small cramp at first."
"That is how ergencies begin," Luca said sharply.
She tensed. "Luca—"
"No," he said, cutting her off. His eyes were dark, burning with a level of intensity she rarely saw directed at her. "You do not get to minimize this. You do not get to tell it was small when I watched you fold in half and cry out."
Aria swallowed, the sting of his words hitting her straight in the heart.
He saw it.
He softened only by a fraction.
"I am not angry at you," he said quietly. "I am terrified."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, breathing her in as if grounding himself.
"This is our first child," he whispered. "Our first chance at sothing good in this life. Sothing untouched by the world I live in. And I will not lose it."
Aria’s eyes softened. "We are not losing the baby."
"You cannot promise that," he said.
"But I can choose to believe it."
Luca pulled back, eyes searching hers. "Belief does not protect you. I protect you. That is my job."
His voice shook again, the mask slipping enough for her to see the raw fear beneath.
She reached for his cheek, her fingers sliding into his hair. "I know you protect us. I never doubt that."
She tried to sit up straighter, but the mont she moved, a faint echo of pain pulsed through her abdon. She inhaled sharply.
Luca’s entire body went rigid.
"Stop," he said imdiately, one hand on her shoulder, the other steadying her back. "Do not move. Not unless you have to."
"It was small," she whispered.
"I do not care." His voice dropped into sothing cold and absolute. "You are not moving unless I say."
Her breath hitched.
This was Luca in crisis mode.This was the Don in him breaking through the husband.
"Luca... I cannot lie here like I am made of glass."
"You can," he said. "And you will."
His tone was soft but unyielding.
Aria frowned slightly. "I am pregnant, not dying."
"You could have been," he said, and the words ca out raw, almost broken. "I walked into the room, and you were folded over in pain. Do you know what that did to ?"
Her chest ward and ached at the sa ti.
He continued, voice low and dangerous. "From now on, everything changes."
She blinked. "Changes how?"
"I am increasing the guard rotation," he said. "You will not walk through this estate alone. You will not leave the house until the doctor clears it. And you will rest when I tell you to rest."
Aria’s eyes widened. "Luca, that is excessive."
"It is a precaution," he said sharply. "The only reason you are stable now is because the doctor was already on the estate. If you had been anywhere else—"
He could not finish the sentence.
His throat closed around the thought.
Aria squeezed his hand gently. "Luca—"
"No," he whispered, gripping her hand tightly. "Just let do this. Let protect you both."
She let out a slow breath, studying him, seeing the panic in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his thumb kept stroking her hand absently as if reassuring himself she was still there.
"Okay," she said finally.
Luca froze. "Okay?"
"Yes," she whispered. "If it makes you feel safer, then yes."
He exhaled shakily.
His forehead dropped to her shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her carefully but fiercely, holding her without hurting her, holding her like he had almost lost her.
She brushed her fingers through his hair, soothing him gently.
After a long mont, he pulled back again, cupping her face between his hands.
"You tell everything now," he said. "Every twinge, every cramp, every breath that feels wrong. I want to know even if it feels stupid."
"Luca—"
"I an it," he insisted, eyes burning. "You do not suffer through anything alone. Not for a second."
She nodded slowly. "I promise."
His shoulders lowered slightly, a small fraction of the tension releasing.
He kissed her forehead. "Good."
He adjusted the blankets around her carefully, tucking her in as if she might disappear if not held properly.
Aria rested her hand on top of his.
"We are going to be parents," she whispered softly.
Luca swallowed hard, the emotion thick in his voice. "Yes. And I am going to keep both of you safe. Even if I have to tear the world apart to do it."
She smiled faintly. "Always dramatic."
He leaned down, brushing a kiss to her lips. "Always yours."
Aria let her eyes drift closed, exhaustion finally pulling her under. Luca stayed awake beside her, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, his hand never leaving her belly.
His mind was already planning.Securing.Strengthening.Preparing for war if he had to.
Nothing would touch his wife.Nothing would touch his child.
Not while he lived.
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