Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 70

Chapter 70

ADRIAN

A few months had passed since the spring thaw, and by April, Valentina had gone all out to celebrate Sofia’s very first birthday. The house was transformed into a pastel wonderland, with soft balloons in gentle shades floating against the ceiling. Valentina had taken it upon herself to bake the cake from scratch, the sweet aroma filling every corner of the room. She even tied a delicate flower ribbon into Sofia’s dark hair, matching the floral dress she had carefully chosen for her daughter. I had tried to protest, but my objections were half-hearted at best. Watching them together, it was impossible to find fault. Sofia was radiant, her eyes sparkling with innocent joy, while Valentina’s smile seemed to brighten the entire room, a beacon of warmth and happiness.

By now, Sofia had taken her first tentative steps, wobbling after Valentina with a fierce determination to stay close. Her tiny fingers gripped Valentina’s hand tightly as she tried to keep her balance. She was too young to remember Serena—there was only Valentina to her, her mother in every sense that truly mattered.

We had invited family over for tea, and the house buzzed with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the delighted squeals of children playing. Damien arrived with his wife and their two kids, adding to the joyful chaos. After the initial flurry of greetings and the ceremonial cutting of the cake, Damien found me standing near the window, a glass of whiskey in hand.

“She got Stefan talking again,” he said quietly, a mix of surprise and respect in his voice.

I followed his gaze to where Valentina crouched on the floor, carefully adjusting the flower clip in Sofia’s hair. “Yeah, she did,” I replied. “She’s good with the kids.”

Damien grinned. “And good with you, too.”

I shot him a warning look.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Come on, Adrian. You’re different now. Happier. You look like a man who’s finally found some peace. That’s all I’m saying.”

I said nothing. Talking about feelings wasn’t something I was comfortable with, especially not with Damien.

His smile faded. “Your father came to see me.”

That caught my attention. “Why?”

“He wanted me to talk to you about… having another child.”

My jaw tightened. “Of course he did.”

“He’s worried about ‘eventualities,’” Damien said carefully, avoiding my eyes.

I didn’t need him to spell it out. “The ‘eventualities’ being that Stefan might not be mine,” I said flatly.

Damien didn’t argue, but the silence between us spoke volumes.

“I don’t want another child,” I said sharply. “And I don’t need you or my father interfering in my family.”

“I’m not meddling, Adrian. I’m just warning you. Your father won’t let this go. He’s obsessed with the bloodline.”

“Then he can worry quietly.” I turned away and crossed the room toward my parents.

They were talking to Gemma, who was cradling her newborn son, her eyes tired but glowing with pride. My father looked up as I approached.

“Stop it, Father,” I said bluntly.

His brow furrowed. “I’m only thinking about your future.”

I nodded toward Stefan, who was patiently helping Sofia walk across the carpet, her tiny fingers clutching his hand for balance. “There’s my future,” I said evenly. “End of discussion.”

My mother reached out and touched my arm gently. “Adrian, we love them, but—”

“No buts,” I cut in harshly.

They exchanged a quiet look, both nodding, though I knew this wasn’t the end of the conversation.

Gemma caught my eye over her baby’s head and gave me a proud smile.

After the guests left and the house finally settled into a peaceful quiet, Valentina and I found ourselves in the game room. I needed a distraction, something to pull my mind away from my father’s words and the look in Stefan’s eyes earlier that day.

Valentina leaned over the pool table, carefully lining up a shot. She’d improved since the last time I played with her.

“Tomorrow,” I said casually, chalking my cue, “you’ll need to take Stefan to a school orientation. I made the appointment a few days ago.”

Valentina froze mid-shot. The cue ball barely grazed the edge of the red ball before she straightened slowly. “What? Why? He’s perfectly fine being homeschooled.”

My mind stumbled over itself. She loved me. She loved my children. And maybe, for the first time in years—maybe ever—I believed it.

I reached out, cupping her cheeks gently. “I love you too.”

She froze, eyes wide. “What… you do?”

I almost laughed. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Say it,” she whispered.

“I love you,” I said again, my voice low and certain.

“Again.”

I chuckled softly, brushing my thumb along her jawline. “I love you.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “I love you too.”

I kissed her slowly, savoring the moment. When we finally pulled apart, she whispered, “Are they really my kids?”

“They are,” I said without hesitation.

“Then you’ll let me make decisions with you.”

I nodded. “I didn’t say how many days Stefan should attend school. They have a few options. You talk to the teachers tomorrow and see what feels right. Then we’ll decide together.”

Valentina smiled warmly. “Deal.”

She leaned up and brushed her lips against mine. “You really love me?”

I kissed her bangs—the ones I used to hate. “I really do,” I said softly.