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Until I cried.
It was beautiful.
And perfect.
And so, so right.
After we both came—again, Carlo whispered a promise into my ear, “I swear to you, I will kill that fucker with my own two hands.”
Then I fell right to sleep.
In Carlo’s arms.
Warm.
Safe.
And completely loved up.
17
Carlo
She’d drifted off to sleep quickly. A lot faster than I thought she would.
Right now, I wasn’t sure I’d ever sleep again as long as I lived.
Not after the tales she’d just told me.
Fuck me.
That asshole was one sick motherfucker. Killing women because they had the audacity to carry daughters. Instead of sons.
Jesus.
Of course, men in our position needed male heirs. There was a reason for that.
But if Giselle had handed me a daughter, I would have been just as happy. I would have loved her just as much as a son.
I’d welcome another daughter. A sister for Dani.
Lots of sisters. And lots of brothers. For her to play with. And get in trouble with. And boss around.
I grinned at the idea of little Daniella leading the pack.
Not once—not fucking once would I ever consider tossing Giselle over a fucking banister for giving me a daughter.
I shut my eyes as I felt them get wet again.
Christ.
The shit Giselle had witnessed.
The hell she went through.
I took a calming breath, but I sure as fuck didn’t feel any calmer.
I was going to tear Sergio’s limbs off before I ripped his head off. I wanted him to suffer.
