Giovanni’s expression softens the second he clocks Bianca and Stephano. Luca’s gaze lands first on Elena and Alessandra, then on me.
Antonio comes straight to me and puts his hand on my back.
“Elsa,” he says, his hand slides slightly, guiding without pushing. “This is Giovanni,” he says. “And Luca.”
Giovanni gives me a small nod, reserved. Luca’s is briefer, his eyes sharp and assessing in a way that would probably terrify me if I weren’t so off-balance already.
“Roberto would’ve come too,” Antonio adds, glancing between the women and me, “but he was eager to get back to Olivia and the baby.”
The baby.
The word echoes through me.
Baby.
Isabella. His newborn niece. Roberto hurrying back to his wife and child. Bianca pregnant. Elena with Alessandra on her hip. Stephano pushing his little car across the coffee table.
And maybe I’m—
No.
I force the thought down so hard it almost hurts.
“Of course,” I say, but I hear the distraction in myown voice. Thin. Delayed.
Antonio’s eyes flick to my face, narrowing just slightly. He notices everything. Always.
Before he can ask, Bianca stands, smoothing a hand over Stephano’s back.
“Well,” she says lightly, but not too lightly, “we should head out.”
Elena is already shifting Alessandra higher on her hip, and the look she gives Bianca is quick and knowing. They sensed it. Of course they sensed it. Whatever is on my face right now, it must be screaming.
Giovanni’s gaze moves to Bianca immediately, softening in a way that changes his whole face.
Luca steps toward Elena and takes Alessandra from her without even seeming to think about it. The little girl goes easily, presses her lips to his cheek. If only the world could see Luca Conti, crime lord, with his little daughter cradled in his arms.
“It was really nice meeting you,” Bianca says, and my throat tightens.
“You too,” I manage. “And… thank you. For the cannoli.”
Bianca grins. “I’ll take that as a formal request to come back.”
Elena’s smile is warmer, gentler. “We will,” she says.
Luca looks at Antonio once, a whole conversation passing between them without words, then turns to me and gives a short nod. “Rest,” he says.
That’s it. Just that. A directive and, somehow, not unkind.
Then they’re all moving toward the door.
Giovanni gets Bianca and Stephano out first. Luca follows with Elena and Alessandra. Antonio hangs back just long enough to lock eyes with me once more, probably making sure I’m still upright.
The door closes behind them.
Silence falls fast.
The apartment feels enormous again. Too quiet.