DELUCA

EIGHTEEN

Andreas leaned over the half-finished crib, running his fingers across the smooth wood grain, lost in thought. The quiet of the night was interrupted only by the soft sounds of Ana breathing in the bedroom nearby, her rhythmic breaths lulling him into a sense of calm.

He savored these rare, peaceful moments where his thoughts could drift to their daughter—a life he was so close to meeting.

Ana's due date was only four weeks away, but she had repeatedly warned him that it could be any day now. Most men might be a bundle of nerves with that kind of countdown, but Andreas felt a surge of excitement instead.

The idea of becoming a father filled him with a joy he hadn't experienced in years. He imagined her tiny fingers wrapping around his, her soft coos as she looked up at him with wide eyes, and how he would hold her in his arms for the first time. It was a future he was desperate to begin, even if his past cast a long shadow over it.

He was humming softly to himself, his hands gently sanding the edges of the crib, when a sharp knock broke the silence. Andreas froze mid-motion, his body going rigid. His eyes darted toward the door. It was well past midnight, and nobody ever came by this late. He lived in a rough part of town, the kind of place where unexpected knocks at odd hours usually meant trouble.

Instinctively, his hand moved to the pistol lying on the coffee table, his fingers tightening around the cool metal grip.

He cursed under his breath, hating that his apartment didn't have a peephole. Carefully, he c****d the gun before stepping toward the door, his heart rate picking up. His eyes never left the door as he called out, "Who is it?"

The response came quickly, the voice on the other side unmistakable, chilling him to the bone. "Open the door, boy."

Andreas' stomach twisted in dread. He recognized that voice—Paolo. The last man he wanted to see at this hour. Andreas hesitated, his mind racing. What could Paolo possibly want? Slowly, he unlatched the door, leaving just enough of a crack to see him.

"Open the door before I blow it down, Andreas." Paolo's voice was calm, too calm, sending a shiver down Andreas' spine.

Reluctantly, Andreas pulled the door wide, relieved to see that Paolo was alone. There were no enforcers or his sons flanking him, no one lurking behind him in the shadows. Just Paolo—dressed impeccably as always, a stark contrast to the dingy apartment around them.

"What are you doing here this late?" Andreas asked, his voice tight as he set the gun down on the couch.

He stepped aside, motioning for Paolo to come in, though he wasn't exactly thrilled to have him in his space.

Paolo stepped inside, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he surveyed the tiny apartment. His tailored suit looked out of place among the sparse, cheap furniture. Andreas watched as Paolo carefully avoided touching anything, holding his arms close to his body as if the very air of the place might stain him.

"Do you want a beer?" Andreas asked, his tone flat. He knew the answer before the words left his mouth.

Paolo waved the offer away with a look of disdain. "No, that won't be necessary," he said, his tone clipped. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope, holding it out to Andreas. "I wanted to bring you this."

Andreas took the envelope, feeling the weight of it immediately. He peeled it open, eyes widening at the sight of thick bundles of euros stacked neatly inside. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"What is this for?" Andreas asked, his voice wary.

Paolo raised an eyebrow. "Usually when I show up to someone's house with twenty grand, they don't ask questions."

Andreas felt a sudden wave of unease. Twenty thousand euros? That was more money than he had ever seen in one place, let alone had in his hands.

He hadn't done anything recently that would warrant this kind of payment. He looked back at Paolo, suspicion creeping into his thoughts.

"I... I didn't do anything to deserve this," Andreas stammered, unsure whether to be grateful or terrified.

Paolo smiled, but it was a thin, cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. He clapped Andreas on the shoulder in a way that was meant to be reassuring but only served to make Andreas' skin crawl.

"That's the difference, boy. When you're working for me, you don't have to earn your keep. This should've been yours anyway."

Andreas blinked, confused. "I don't understand."

Paolo's smile widened as he casually walked over to the window, glancing down into the dark alley below. "We took that from Francesco. He thought he had a deal with the Russians, but now we have a deal with the Russians."

The words hit Andreas like a punch to the gut. He felt his heart sink into his stomach. Francesco. His cousin. A man of honor, one who would never forgive this kind of betrayal. And now, Paolo had not only stolen from Francesco but was dragging Andreas into it, making him complicit.

His hands shook slightly as he stared down at the money. It was blood money now. No matter what he did, Francesco would never believe he hadn't had a hand in this.

Paolo, oblivious to Andreas' internal panic, continued to peer down at the alley with disinterest. "Maybe you can manage to get yourself out of these slums," he mused. "Your cousin lets you live like this?"

"I choose to live like this," Andreas muttered, though the words felt hollow. It wasn't true. He hadn't chosen this life; it had been forced on him by circumstances he couldn't control.

But Francesco believed in earning one's place, and Andreas had always admired that. He wanted to prove himself worthy of his cousin's respect, even if it meant living in a rundown apartment on the wrong side of town.

Paolo clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Shame. You could give your child the world with this kind of money." He motioned toward the envelope in Andreas' hands. "Think about that, boy."

With that, Paolo turned and walked toward the door, his presence lingering like a shadow in the room.

"Thank you for making me aware of the deal," he said, his tone casual, as if they had discussed nothing more than the weather. "Talk soon, Andreas."

And just like that, Paolo was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Andreas stood there for a moment, the envelope still clutched in his hand. The weight of it was suffocating, a tangible reminder of how deep he was getting pulled into something he couldn't control. He glanced toward the bedroom where Ana slept, blissfully unaware of the chaos he was tangled in.

How was he supposed to protect her? How was he supposed to protect their daughter when a storm was brewing, one that would undoubtedly involve Francesco?

Despite how much they had been enjoying themselves on the last two days of the honeymoon trip, Eleanor had been thrilled when they returned home. The house was a lot different than it had been the first time she arrived.

It was desolate, absent of family members or wedding planning. During the final two days, Eleanor had learned that Francesco appeared to be insatiable. They hadn't left the house since they had arrived back after the Gala until they left.

And even leaving had proven to be hard. But their bubble and bliss had been broken by Francesco's pre-arranged obligations.

Thankfully, he was an honest man when he said that he would be able to find something for Eleanor to do when he was gone.

"Eleanor sweetie, I love you so much but if you just keep standing there I will strangle you. Help me!" Giselle said stumbling into the room with two boxes in her hand.

Eleanor jumped up, taking one of the boxes from her and sitting it on the table, "Sorry." Eleanor murmured as she set it down.

Every year, Delta's held an event that would be dedicated to giving back... the same charity that Eleanor had been familiar with. It was a big deal and the duty of the matriarch to arrange the event.

Eleanor hadn't realized at the time that she was now the matriarch of the family, requiring her to be hands-on. Of course, Giselle was helping, but in a way, it was Giselle truly running things with Eleanor assisting.

The venue had already been chosen, and they were given a private room to plan as the event got closer and closer. The room was large on its own, with tall ceilings with tables laid out parallel to each other.

They weren't the only ones there, numerous of Deluca's employees all had their responsibility, and everyone focused.

"These are all a collection of basically every event we hosted for inspiration. I had to go the basement to get these." Giselle explained, "This year's theme is a masquerade, I think it'll be the best year."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because we actually have a matriarch doing it and not me or my mama." Giselle said with an eye-roll, "I thought I would die still doing these."

Eleanor chuckled, not sure if that was a good sign that all responsibility would be on her or not.

As much as Giselle had tried since Eleanor arrived, she wasn't able to ruin the excitement Eleanor felt.

"I wish this part was put in the vows." Eleanor joked. "How long do we have?"

"We only have two weeks to get everything finalized. It takes so long for things to be ordered... of course, we need to get dressed ourselves, pick food, choose the guest and seating arrangement, hire a DJ..."

"So basically I am planning another wedding," Eleanor said.

"Basically." Giselle laughed, "Just without the honeymoon. How was it?"

Eleanor felt a blush heat up her cheeks involuntarily and that was all that Giselle needed to hear.

"Eleanor!" She gasped, "Mi darai un bambino?" She asked excitedly.

"I don't have to know Italian that you just said something about a baby and unfortunately there are no babies shortly."

"Why?" Giselle asked.

Apparently, it was not a custom here to not ask when a woman will have a child.

"I got married days ago, I am not thinking about any babymaking."

"But you're doing a lot of baby-making, no?" Giselle asked before she realized that while Eleanor was her sister in a sense, she didn't need to hear about her brother's s*x life, "Actually, don't answer that question."

The topic of babies reminded Eleanor, "Oh, can you help me find a doctor? I want to start birth control right away before waiting isn't an option." Eleanor said.

"Of course, you can use mind and I will-" Giselle was cut off by her name being called. "Oh sorry, that is our volunteer coordinator, here look through these books I will be right back."

With Giselle gone, Eleanor took the time to look through the pictures in front of her. The binders were filled with photos from each year they had done the event.

Included had been actual photos and Eleanor found herself searching for Francesco in all of them. The book has started in 2010, and in the photos, Francesco had looked boyish.

The stubble he usually kept had been absent from his face, his hair hung a lot longer and curlier. Next to him was Giselle, at this point, she had been a child, and a taller Giuseppe standing with a straight line on his lips.

No one had been smiling in the pictures. Not even the older man standing in the photos with Cara on his arm. That must be their father.

Eleanor flipped book by book, noticing that their father had no longer been in the photos by 2018. But Enzo had, and just as usual his hair hung past his shoulders, his eyes looking off to a woman standing in the corner.

"When you get to 2019, you'll see me." A deep voice said. Eleanor looked up seeing an unfamiliar face.

"Luca." The man said, he offered his hand and Eleanor hesitantly shook it.

"Eleanor."

"I was looking for Giselle, have you seen her around?" He asked.

"Likely from the door you just entered." Eleanor said, "I apologize, we haven't met yet."

"It wasn't likely, I don't think Giselle would introduce her ex to such an attractive woman."

As if on cue, Giselle came back into the room. The moment her eyes fell on Luca her face turned up in anger. Immediately, a string of insults came out of her mouth in-between bouts of Italian words.

Luca held his arms up in defense, "Relax, I come in peace."

"Peace my ass," Giselle said, finally close enough to hit him, which she began to do.

Eleanor jumped up out of her seat, quick to break the two of them apart. She was more concerned for Luca rather than the five-foot ball of fire.

Giselle was still seething once they were broken apart, but at the very least she had stopped attempting to hit him.

"I wanted to bring you this." Luca said, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, handing over a check to Giselle, "I sold the Paris condo."

"You sold my condo? Who gave you the right?" Giselle yelled.

"You didn't answer any of my phone calls."

"Of course, I haven't!" Giselle began insulting him again, but it appeared that Luca had enough.

"Here, just take the damn check. I gave you everything, it was the least I can do." Luca held the check out, opting to give it to Eleanor who couldn't help but peak about the amount.

Jesus Christ, she thought.

"Thank you, Luca. You can leave now." Eleanor said, thinking it better that he got out of there now. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold Giselle back.

Luca stepped around the two women and retreated out of the room, giving an audible sigh before his back disappeared behind the ten-foot doors.

Giselle turned to Eleanor, swiping the check from her hand, "You stay away from him that man is nothing but bad news."

"We all have bad exes," Eleanor said.

"Eleanor, I am serious. Stay far away from Luca, understood?"

Eleanor didn't have it in her to try to calm another feud so she nodded.

I guess the drama in this family doesn't end at I do.