Page 69 of Forced Mafia Bride
An hour later, after I put our little champion to sleep in his cradle, I stood watch over Rosalyn, her chest rising and falling with each breath. I traced the perfect lines on her face with my eyes, admiring how more beautiful she glowed. As though sensing my eyes on her, her eyes flickered open, and I smiled.
“The princess is finally awake. You deserved the rest. I don’t know how you women do it.”
Rosalyn’s eyelids fluttered open, a faint smile on her lips when she straightened up on the bed. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that.” She blinked and whispered, “Niko…the baby?”
“He’s right here. You gave me a son. A beautiful son. You want to hold him?”
She nodded and gave me a funny look while I gently placed little Cian in her arms. Her warm gaze flickered from his face to mine and back to his again as she gazed at him like he was the only thing that mattered.
“Were you crying?”
“What?” Quickly, I arched a cocky brow, suppressing a sniffle. “Fuck no.”
“Shh! Language. We don’t want our son picking up cuss words first.”
I laughed, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. My throat tightened. This woman, my woman, holding our son…the picture was like nothing I’d ever seen. No art or painting or sculpture could beat it.
Rosalyn’s face contorted, tears streaming down. “He’s so perfect.”
I wrapped my arms around them, pulling them close. “Yeah, he is. You are, too. You both are perfect”
Emotion choked me. This little family, we were in this together now.
Rosalyn looked up, her eyes locked on mine. “Thank you, Niko.”
For what, I didn’t know. For being here? For loving her? For giving her a son?
It didn’t matter.
What mattered was that they were mine, and I was theirs.
My family.
Chapter 27 – Rosalyn
Three Months Later
Midnight.
The city outside our penthouse apartment slept, but I was wide awake, patting Cian on my chest while watching rain pelts mercilessly hit the glass and purple lightning streaks flash through the dark skies. The soft glow from the nightlight cast shadows on the walls, making the room feel larger than it was, and the cold only made me miss him more.
For three months, Niko’s absence weighed heavily on me. It was past midnight now, and he still wasn’t home. He had been working late for weeks now, always caught in something. There was always an excuse. His world was full of barricades, things he didn’t want me to touch or be a part of, and it was frustrating.
I sighed, gently rocking the baby as he slowly quieted in my arms. “Who’s Mommy’s champion?” I kissed his nose, and his tiny face scrunched up for a moment before his breathing steadied. I looked down at him, my heart swelling with love. He was so beautiful and perfect, but I couldn’t shake the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin.
“I miss you, Niko,” I exhaled, blinking back tears. I’d been crying a lot more these days than I did when I was pregnant.
My body ached in ways I didn’t know it could, and every time I caught my reflection, I barely recognized myself. I knew I didn’t have the best life, but I’d tried to be vibrant when I could, full of energy and life. Now, my skin was pale, my eyes heavy with the weight of sleepless nights. And my body....
I felt bloated.Ugly.
It had changed, softened in places that used to be firm. I felt foreign in my own skin, like I was trapped in someone else’s body. And I wondered....
Maybe that was the reason why. The reason he stayed away.