The mansion had changed.
It wasn't the structure. The marble floors were still cold in the mornings. The tall windows still filtered sunlight into pale gold ribbons. The chandeliers still shimmered with unnecessary elegance.
But the silence had changed.
It was no longer empty.
It was alive.
A baby's cry pierced through the corridor at six in the morning, sharp and demanding. Not frightened. Not weak. Just… loud. Purposeful. As if announcing to the world that she existed and that the world had better adjust accordingly.
Matthew was awake before the second cry.
He didn't even think anymore. His body had learned the rhythm of fatherhood before his mind had accepted it.
Vinny stirred beside him, curls messy, lips slightly parted. He looked younger when he slept. Softer. Matthew brushed a thumb over his cheek gently.
"I've got her," Matthew whispered.
Vinny's fingers caught his wrist before he could move.
"No," Vinny mumbled, voice husky with sleep. "We've got her."
