~ Niamh ~
"Wait, Mass, you're kidding right?" Marietta broke the silence before I could find my voice, a look of utter shock etched onto her face.
"Massimo, what did you just say?" Don Giacomo's eyes widened a fraction as he fixed them sharply on his heir.
Massimo didn't flinch. He gestured toward my son and me. "This is your grandson and his mother, Father."
His expression softened as he began to make his way towards us, his eyes glued to Matteo like a father who had just returned home from work and wanted nothing more than to pick up his son for a hug.
"Don't even think of it, you bastard!" I glared at him, physically hauling Matteo behind my back.
I felt the air vanish from the room as everyone around us drew in a sharp breath.
"His father and mother are present; mind your words," Don Giacomo warned.
But I didn't care. I was ready to use every venomous word in my vocabulary as long as Massimo Valentino was the target.
"You shouldn't be calling the father of your son a bastard in front of the child, honey," Juliette admonished.
I held Massimo's gaze, my voice hardening as I replied to her. "I'll call him exactly that, because he doesn't deserve to be called his father."
"Holy smokes," Cristiano muttered.
He rose to his feet and made his way toward the bar again as if he needed a drink just to process the drama.
"Niamh, calm down," Marietta said, reaching out to take my clenched hand. "Please, sit."
I tugged my hand free, refusing to break eye contact with Massimo.
He held my gaze back, a mixture of anger and surprise flickering across his face, his jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth would shatter.
He looked even better than I remembered, which only made me hate him more.
The cut of his jaw was sharper, his angular features more striking, his lips plusher, his dark hair more luxurious, the glimmer in his dark eyes more dazzling.
He stood tall and intimidating in a black sharkskin suit. Beneath the expensive fabric, I knew he was hard-bodied, tattooed...
I gritted my teeth, forcing the memories back into the dark corner where they belonged. I wouldn't let his looks fool me twice.
"I think we could all use some wine, eh?" Cristiano flashed a smile around the room, acting as if we were planning a wedding event rather than having a confrontation.
"I think this fucking episode is going to need something stronger than wine this time, bro," Domino joined him at the bar, reaching for whiskey and looking irritated.
"Language, Dom," Massimo hissed, shooting a brief, protective glance at Matteo. "We have a child in our midst for the sake of hell."
"He's been warned already," Lorenzo snorted, sounding as if disciplining Domino was a lost cause.
"He should get used to it." Domino tossed a dismissive glance over his shoulder. Cristiano snickered, pouring the amber liquid into glasses.
"Niamh, why don't you sit down while we talk about this sudden revelation," Juliette said. Her voice was calm, but I knew it wasn't a suggestion—it was an order.
I reluctantly dragged my gaze away from Massimo and sat, settling a strangely quiet Matteo on my lap and wrapping my arms around him protectively.
Massimo sat on the couch Domino had occupied, his movements stiff, as if he was barely holding back a flood of emotion.
I gratefully accepted another glass from Cristiano as he passed around drinks for the second time, and took a quick gulp, needing the burn of the whiskey to steady my nerves because I felt like I was ready to explode.
"I don't think it's a good idea for Matteo to be present while we unravel... whatever happened between Mass and Niamh," Marietta suggested, looking at the Don.
Everyone turned to look at Matteo at once, and he squirmed against me, sensing the weight of their stares.
"That's true," Juliette agreed, then she raised her voice slightly. "Luis. Cecilia."
A Hispanic man in probably his fifties and a young lady entered the room immediately. Luis was dressed like a chef with a broad smile, and Cecilia looked to be the housekeeper.
"Cecilia, why don't you prepare a room for our boy here and make him comfortable," Juliette instructed, gesturing at Matteo with a warm smile. "And Luis, please prepare something delicious specially for him. Make sure he loves it."
I clutched Matteo tightly, unwilling to let him out of my sight. I knew Marietta was right—he shouldn't hear anything—but I wasn't ready to let him go.
"Come on, boy, it's time to enjoy yourself," Luis said, stepping forward with a friendly smile.
"Don't," I snapped, stretching out my hand to stop him and getting to my feet with Matteo in my arms.
Massimo hissed my name. "Niamh…"
"I'm not letting my son out of my sight!" I barked, glaring at everyone as my anger finally trampled over my fear.
"Calm down, honey, he's safe here," Juliette assured me with a motherly smile.
"No, he isn't!" I countered, gritting my teeth.
"We will never hurt our own blood," Don Giacomo declared. "You have my word."
"And how can I be sure you people won't just take him and disappear, the same way his father did with my virginity?" I asked, pinning Massimo with a gaze full of pure malice and hatred.
A collective gasp filled the room.
"Oh my God," Juliette breathed, looking at her son.
I knew I shouldn't have said it with Matteo right there, but I was too angry to control the words.
"Come on, Niamh, take a chill pill," Marietta said, stepping up to me with a kind smile.
She gently lifted Matteo and placed him on his feet between us, then whispered for my ears only: "You don't want your son learning about his birth and the consequences attached to it, do you?"
I sighed and shook my head, glancing at my son who was nervously playing with his fingers.
"Good," Marietta gently squeezed my shoulders. "Now allow them to take care of him while we discuss. He doesn't deserve to hear all the wrongs about his parents at such a young age. Plus, I bet you both have had a rough day."
"Yeah, you're right," I reluctantly admitted, thinking of the gunshots and the terror.
I quickly swiped away a stupid tear that escaped my eyes, refusing to appear weak in front of this family.
I leaned down to Matteo's height and cupped his face in my hands. "Sweetie, you're hungry, aren't you?"
"Yes, Mommy," he nodded immediately.
"Follow Mr. Luis. He's going to make you your favorite, okay?"
"He can make creamy Chicken Alfredo too?" His eyes lit up.
"Of course," I said, glancing at Luis who nodded enthusiastically. "I believe he makes the best Chicken Alfredo in Texas."
Matteo grinned, looking so much like a red-haired version of Massimo that it actually hurt to look at him.
I kissed the top of his head and watched as Luis guided him out of the room, striking up a conversation as they went.
It felt like a piece of my soul left the room.
"Such a sweet little boy," Juliette smiled fondly.
"Obviously took after his mother," Cristiano smirked, and Marietta held the bridge of her nose in amusement.
I felt self-conscious as everyone watched me settle back on the couch, acutely aware of the inappropriate red dress I was still wearing.
When I looked up, Massimo was staring at me. His dark eyes traveled over my body with a heat I recognized—the same heat that had burned me five years ago.
It made me itch to grab hold of a gun and shoot him.
Don Giacomo broke the silence. "Massimo, why don't you explain to us how you ended up having a son with the O'Connor princess and triggering a war between three mafia syndicates in the process?"
Everyone looked at Massimo curiously, but I was the most curious of all.
After five years, I still wanted to hear what he thought about our meeting that night and why he disappeared.
Would his excuse even be enough to melt the hatred I held for him?