Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68

ADRIAN

During dinner, I fought hard to keep my patience intact. Between my father’s sharp, cutting remarks and his endless obsession with heirs and lineage, my composure was stretched to its limits. Each comment felt like a jab, and I could feel my temper simmering beneath the surface.

For weeks now, he had been pushing me relentlessly to agree to a paternity test. It was his way of voicing the suspicion he’d barely concealed since Serena passed away—that perhaps my children weren’t truly mine. The implication stung deeper than I cared to admit.

Finally, as the last of the guests trickled out and the front door clicked shut behind them, a calm silence settled over the house. The quiet was almost a relief.

I carried Sofia up the stairs, her tiny head resting softly against my shoulder. Her breath was warm and comforting on my neck, a small anchor in the storm of my thoughts. Once I gently laid her down in her crib, I lingered a moment, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest as she slept. Then, turning around, I spotted Valentina standing quietly in the doorway of Stefan’s room.

“Stefan wants you to tuck him in tonight,” she said softly, almost hesitantly.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly. It had been months since Stefan had asked for me, since I’d been granted even that small fragment of normalcy. Tucking him in had once been our ritual—a quiet, sacred end to the day before everything shattered. Hearing those words now felt almost surreal.

Valentina stepped aside, and I glanced past her into the softly lit room. Stefan was sitting cross-legged on his bed, still clad in pajamas, gently stroking Milo’s fur. Normally, I would have reminded him that dogs don’t belong on beds, that rules exist for a reason. But tonight, none of that mattered.

“Do you want me to read your bedtime story?” I asked, my voice gentle and tentative.

Stefan nodded, a shy, uncertain little nod—but it was there. A yes.

When I looked back at Valentina, she was smiling, a quiet pride softening her features. Something warm and unfamiliar stirred in my chest—something close to gratitude. Without thinking, I leaned down and brushed a quick, instinctive kiss on her lips before moving toward the bed.

Stefan’s brows knit together slightly as his eyes flicked between us. I sat beside him, reaching for the picture book on his nightstand, but before I could open it, he spoke.

“You kissed Valentina.”

His voice caught me off guard, hitting me harder than I expected. It had been so long since I’d heard him speak like this. I rested the book back on my lap and took a moment to steady myself. I’d avoided showing any physical affection with Valentina in front of him, worried it might unsettle him.

“Yes,” I replied slowly.

“Why?”

The innocence in his question unraveled me. There was no anger, only genuine curiosity. I ran my hand through his hair, feeling the softness beneath my fingers.

“Because I really like Valentina,” I said quietly.

“You liked Mommy too.”

“Okay.” Stefan’s voice softened, the edges of sleep already pulling him under.

His small body relaxed against the blankets, and I felt that familiar ache in my chest. It had been months since I’d tucked him in like this, since I’d felt the comforting weight of him settling into rest. I stayed a moment longer, watching his lashes flutter as he drifted off. By the time I turned the first page of his book, his breathing was even and steady.

Milo lifted her head from where she’d curled at the foot of the bed, half-buried in the blanket. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and unimpressed. For once, she didn’t growl or snap. When she wasn’t tearing through the house or causing chaos, she was almost tolerable—maybe even good for Stefan.

I left them both there, closing the door softly behind me.

Back in our bedroom, Valentina was waiting. She leaned casually against the dresser, barefoot, her hair loose around her shoulders, her expression open and warm. I didn’t say anything at first. Instead, I reached for her, pulling her close until I could feel her breath against my chest. The tension that had weighed on my shoulders all evening began to ease.

“And?” she asked after a moment, tilting her head up. “How did it go?”

“Good.” My voice came out rougher than I intended. The word “good” barely scratched the surface of everything I was feeling right then.

Her eyes softened, curious, as if she sensed there was more I wasn’t saying. And there was. The words hovered just behind my lips—simple words, but stubbornly refusing to come out.

Chapter 69