Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 50

VALENTINA

After Adrian left, I sank onto the sofa with my phone still in my hand, feeling the echo of our earlier conversation in my chest. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d told me about my uncles. In our world, a fall from grace almost always meant a bullet to the head, and that was exactly what had happened.

Sofia was sat on the rug, fascinated by a noisy picture book that barked and mooed every time she touched it. Stefan was beside her, half focused on his game, half distracted by the sound effects. Every now and then, he’d steal a glance at his sister’s toy, and for a brief moment, there was peace between them. They weren’t throwing tantrums or screaming in tears. They were just two children in their own small world.

Milo hopped up beside me on the couch and curled into a soft ball of fur. I started to stroke her absently, letting the rhythmic motion case the tension in my body, though not the heaviness in my chest.

I should’ve felt grief for my uncles, but I didn’t. They’d been cruel men, even by mafia standards. What I felt was worry–cold, creeping worry- for what their deaths meant. For Adrian. For us. For the fragile peace we were trying to build in this house. And then there was Kiara, my cousin, just twelve years old, now an orphan.

I unlocked my phone and called my father. He didn’t answer on the first ring. Or the second. By the third, unease began to sink in like ice water. My father never ignored my calls.

What if Rico had decided to deal with him too? It wasn’t a secret that my father wasn’t Rico’s favorite. Marrying me to Adrian had been a political move to secure his position, but would Adrian really go out of his way to protect my father? Their relationship was polite at best, strained at worst. But maybe for my sake, Adrian would step in.

Finally, my father answered, and my shoulders sagged with relief.

“Valentina,” he said in a clipped and hurried voice. “Tonight’s not a good time.”

“Are you all right? I heard what happened.”

A sigh crackled through the line. “I’m fine. Disturbed, yes. It’s unsettling, hearing about Rico taking down one family member after another, but I’ve never done anything that could be seen as betrayal.”

My throat tightened. “What about Kiara? Has anyone said where she’ll go?”

“We were contacted,” my father said after a pause. “They asked if we’d be willing to take her in.”

The hesitation in his voice made my stomach sink. “She needs a home, Papà. She’s just a child.”

“Your mother and I have worked hard to repair our family’s reputation, Valentina. Taking in the daughter of a traitor could destroy that.”

I closed my eyes. “She’s twelve. She’s innocent. Please don’t tell me you’d turn her away because of her father’s mistakes. That would be cruel.”

There was silence. It wasn’t that I believed my father incapable of cruelty. It was just that he hated to show it

to me.

“Rico might not give us a choice,” he said finally. “Refusing him now could be too risky.”

“Then don’t risk it,” I urged softly. “Give Kiara a home.”

He made a low sound of acknowledgment. “We’ll see. And how are things between you and Adrian?”

“They’re… good,” I said, hesitating only slightly.

“Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “I’m glad to hear it.”

The doubt in his voice stung. It hurt knowing that even he had expected Adrian to be a monster. Maybe he wasn’t wrong to think so, but he didn’t see what I saw. He didn’t see the man who carried Sofia when she cried, or the one whose shoulders sagged in quiet pain after Stefan turned away.

“Promise you’ll call me when you know more about Kiara?” I said.

“I will. Your mother wants to speak to you.”

I almost groaned. That could only mean one thing… damage control. When Mom was worried about her social standing, it usually meant I was about to become her solution.

“Valentina,” she greeted brightly, too brightly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just worried about Kiara.”

“That poor girl,” she said, though her tone lacked any real sympathy. “Now, tell me, when can we expect a grandchild?”

There it was. I almost laughed. “Mom, Sofia and Stefan are still very young. Taking care of them is a full–time job.”

“They aren’t yours, dear,” she said with that familiar, cutting sweetness. “You must think strategically. A child of your own, especially a son, would strengthen your position. If he becomes Underboss one day, your security will be guaranteed.”

“Stefan will be Underboss,” I said quietly. “And if I ever decide to have a child, it won’t be to win political favor.”

Adrian and I hadn’t even talked about children. He’d insisted I stay on the pill, which I would have done anyway. A baby right now would only make things harder for me, for the children, and maybe for Adrian too.

“Valentina, you can’t be so naive,” my mother replied coolly.

I sighed. “I have to go, Mom. Sofia’s getting fussy.”

I ended the call before she could respond and lowered the phone onto the sofa.

Stefan had moved closer to Sofia, his little hand guiding hers over the book’s bright animal pictures. The toy erupted in a chaotic symphony of barks, moos, and meows, and both children burst into laughter.

I watched them with a soft smile, warmth unfurling in my chest. Every day, they pulled me in a little deeper

into their small, fragile world, and into a kind of love I hadn’t expected to find here.

Chapter 51