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MARIA

Amalia looked a lot like Leonardo. She had adorable hazel eyes and a beautiful femininity to her.

Vincenzo was Leonardo's younger brother. They looked alike with similar features, the same eye colour throughout the brothers, and similar builds.

Therefore, Amalia looked like Leonardo. Who also looked like Vincenzo. Which actually meant that there was a higher chance that Amalia actually looked like Vincenzo since he looked like Leonardo.

At least that was my thought process.

So rationally, it made sense. It all made sense despite not making sense.

I had put everything back to how it was before I had looked around the storage room except the letter. I held onto it. The crib had been placed into the lounge after being cleaned, but I was holding Amalia on my lap; she slept, staring at the small child before me. There was just no way.

I ran my hand through my hair as I gazed at her, struggling to come to terms with what I had just discovered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I whispered repeatedly, unable to stop the thunderstorm of thoughts running through my mind. It couldn't be true—could it? Vincenzo wouldn't...

He was a womaniser, yes, but he wasn't an inherently bad person. He was just...Vincenzo and Vincenzo would never do that to his own brother—no would he? Him and Elisa? It couldn't be true. I groaned again, biting down on my bottom lip hard. I was anxious, confused, and desperate to get what I had just read out of my mind. Leonardo was Amalia's father. But why was I struggling to believe that fact?

So I had an idea. The only thing that could put my mind at ease.

I placed Amalia into her cot and got moving. DNA. I grabbed Leonardo's hairbrush, snipped the tiniest piece of Amalia's hair from the back, and managed to find the glass Vincenzo had left on the windowsill a few hours ago. I was glad I hadn't washed it. I found some small plastic bags and stashed them away.

Then I texted Iris. The rest was up to her to investigate for me.

It wasn't long after Iris came to collect them and left that Leonardo came back home alone with a bag of food in his hand. That was when I realised how many hours had passed by. An apprehensive feeling filled me as I watched him come in. He entered the room with a bubbly smile, showing the bag he had in his hand, completely oblivious to the letter.

Amalia was sitting on my lap, surrounded by toys. She clapped at the sight of her dad, a wide smile stretched across her face. "Amalia!" He scooped her up with one hand, kissing her cheek as she squealed. I smiled, my eyes rapidly glancing between them hugging and looking all happy and cute. She had to be his. There was no way she couldn't.

"I brought back some food. Are you hungry?" Leonardo asked a little too cheerily for what was going on in my mind. My head snapped upwards, my wide eyes meeting his. His eye contact was intense in that moment. I forced myself to mask my unwavering stress growing within me.

"Yeah. I am—I am hungry!" I instantly felt like slapping myself in the face for sounding so flustered and jumpy. He didn't seem to notice my nerves, turning and pretending to be a train as he 'choo-chooed' his way to the kitchen. I bit my bottom lip hard after sighing silently, feeling the burden of such a heavy secret weigh on me. I hated myself already. Once again, I was keeping a secret from him. I told myself that I'd tell him once I got the results back from the fertility clinic.

But there was no need to cause mayhem over nothing. A serious matter had to be resolved in the correct manner. Besides, it would come back that Amalia was his and somehow the letter was fake. That had to be the outcome, and it was the one I was convincing myself was true; otherwise, all hell could break loose.

I watched Leonardo place Amalia in her high chair, kissing her forehead. Then a horrible thought struck me, 'That's not your daughter that you're being so affectionate with.'. I squeezed my eyes closed, denying to myself what I had seen hours before. No. Amalia was Leonardo's daughter, not Vincenzo's. That had to be true.

"Ria, did you hear what I said?" Leonardo asked in a slightly concerned voice. My eyes flew open, realising he was right in front of me, his eyes worried. I blinked a few times before forcing out a laugh and fanning my face.

"Hmm?" I could only let out before quickly correcting myself, "Sorry, it's so warm in here. What did you say?"

Leonardo gave me a look, and I knew I was on his radar. My sudden unconvincing response was unnatural even for myself. He placed his hand against my forehead, and I flinched a little in surprise, my heart hammering against my ribcage. Then he really did look worried, the smile he had earlier disappearing. "I said you look really pale and you're burning up. The heating isn't even on. Have you eaten today? Have you got a headache? Did you sleep well?" His questions felt endless. I swallowed, shaking my head as he lowered his hand. That was bad; Leonardo was already worried.

"I'm fine!" I brightly reassured him, though I was sure I could feel the cold sweat trickling down my back. He looked unconvinced, and honestly, I would too if it were the other way round. I couldn't hide my anxiety, which wasn't good because the moment Leonardo had an inkling something wasn't right, he would badger me until he got it out. I had to compose myself if I wanted to wait until I got the results back. I practically gulped, moving my attention onto the bag and opening it as I masked my face with excitement.

"I ate hours ago with the boys, and I'm so hungry now. I figured you'd come back and cook, but you got us this, so thanks!" I blabbered. I gasped at the food, trying to convince him in every way that I looked sick because I was starving. "Mmm! I was really craving this!" I brought out the rice chicken salad he'd gotten me, pulling off the lid and mixing the contents with the wooden fork, hoping he'd tear his police eyes away from me.

"Papa, chicken!" Amalia burst, her legs swinging as she eyed the food on the table. I almost thanked Amalia for her distraction. Leonardo chuckled at her cuteness, which shifted his attention back onto her. He moved around and sat opposite me, taking out his own food and beginning to scrape a small portion onto a plate for Amalia. "Well, I'm glad you didn't try to cook. I didn't make a batch last night for today, so I came back earlier in case you made your way to the kitchen to cause a disaster."

I glared at him as I chewed. He chuckled, feeding Amalia.

"Here," he gently said, taking a napkin and unexpectedly wiping the corner of my lip. I blinked in surprise, letting out a quiet chuckle of embarrassment. I swallowed, touching my lips, hoping nothing else was sitting on my face. He looked like he wasn't going to eat until Amalia did. Leonardo had a long day; he usually did, but he always came back home hiding his tiredness. I took the spoon away from him, saying, "Eat some. I'll feed her." He looked like he was about to object, but I was already giving Amalia a spoonful.

Leonardo sighed, picking up his own fork to eat. "Romeo got home okay?" I asked, happy to see Amalia eat.

"Yeah. His mother was glad that he wasn't upset anymore," Leonardo replied, watching Amalia eat before looking over at me. "Thanks for making him so comfortable. He loves being around you."

I shook my head at his compliment. "Romeo's a good kid."

Leonardo added, "You have that effect of making people relaxed." I didn't know what to say back. It was nice to hear from him, though I couldn't formulate that into words. We met eyes briefly before I took a few bites of my own food while Amalia chewed, her hands playing with the toy attached to her high chair. "You're on good terms with his mom," I noted, wiping Amalia's mouth with a tissue.

"She's a good woman," Leonardo responded, "just like my mother, she was also mistreated by him." I nodded slowly, discerning who he was talking about. The two of us ate some more before wrapping things up for bed.

With Amalia washed and rocked to sleep, she was in her cot, which Leonardo had brought upstairs by his side, sleeping. She usually slept in between us but was content inside there. I took that Leonardo and I were going to continue sharing a bed despite Romeo leaving. I didn't mind as much; we maintained our spaces on the mattress.

I came out of the en-suite after doing my nighttime skincare routine. I rubbed my hands together, getting the moisture right into my palms and between my fingers. I watched as Leonardo rubbed Amalia's back slowly. He was sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over the cot, watching as she slept.

"I'm happy Amalia's around more," Leonardo murmured, gazing at his daughter. I slowly closed the door behind me, making my way towards them. I sat on the other side of the bed, looking at Amalia.
I really hoped I wasn't delusional in believing that letter was fake. It was all I could think about, constantly in the back of my mind. "I want her to be here permanently...of course, with you." His eyes landed on me. We were back to that topic again.

I brought the covers over my body, wriggling down onto my back with a gentle sigh. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to be free from keeping things from him, but I knew I needed to confirm things first.

"Leo... I don't want to talk about that right now," I gently admitted, feeling the pressure hit as the paternity letter came into my mind once more.

"I'm sorry," he quietly said, lying down on his back, his broad chest rising and falling against his white top. He placed his arm behind his head, his bulging bicep showing off his deep veins threatening to burst from his skin. "Don't apologise," I replied, my eyes fixed on the wall above me.

"Maria?"

"Mmm?" His steady gaze was on me the moment my head turned to face him. My eyes quickly got drawn into his alluring ones.

"Do you ever think about it?" His husky voice asked. I stared at him in curiosity.

"Think about what?" I softly probed.

"The past," Leonardo quietly revealed, "what things would have been like if you hadn't left? Or rather, I didn't let you go?"

I exhaled slowly, pondering for a moment. I answered a bit more rationally, "Well...I would've been in danger. Your father—" I hesitated, unsure of what exactly to call that man in front of Leonardo. "He...wanted my dad's head. Things would've gotten a lot messier."

"I'm sorry for being so horrible to you that night. The night that we argued before you left," Leonardo sincerely apologised, his hazel eyes filled with genuineness. "For hurting your feelings." I didn't reply straight away, turning to face him better so we were directly in front of each other. I rested my head against my hands that were pressed together against the pillow, my full attention on him.

"It's in the past, Leo. We're grown now," I quietly replied, remembering that pain I felt leaving that evening. "Actually, I found something earlier."

I could've told him then, the truth. I didn't want to withhold anything from Leonardo like I did before. But I wasn't certain. I hoped the letter was wrong, and it was not a big deal. I focused on something else instead. His eyes stayed on me as I spoke, "I found a purple box in the storage room. It had some of the letters I sent you back then."

Leonardo questioned in surprise, "You found that?"

"You read them all?" I asked, bringing up a topic that surprised him, his eyes blinking in astonishment. Leonardo replied quietly, "I did..."

"All this time," I expressed, softly exhaling. "I thought you didn't care."

"I pushed you away," Leonardo admitted, a tone of regret to his words. "I always have. I never believed that I was allowed to feel love or could even feel love. But it's only now that I've learnt to accept my feelings. But now, I'm..."

His hand reached out and gently caressed my cheek, those hazel eyes of his intently gazing at me. "I'm losing you. Aren't I?" He said in a low voice. I felt my pulse race as we met eyes, his slowly lowering to my lips. I didn't move when he leaned in and softly planted a kiss on my lips, pulling away a little so our faces were close together, his hand still resting against my cheek. A longing gaze of hope in his eyes made my heart swell inside. It hurt. It hurt being distant with him. But I couldn't forget the past.

"Goodnight," I quietly said. I slowly turned over, snuggling my head into the pillow as my back faced him, my thoughts lingering between the letter and that kiss.

Then his large arm wrapped around me and slowly pulled me backwards against his chest. I clutched onto my pillow that followed me and kept my eyes closed, my heart pounding at the sudden closeness between us. His body against mine, his protective arms around me, holding me lovingly. I silently let out a breath to calm myself as he left a kiss on my cheek.

"I love you," he whispered, and that was the last thing he said before we went to sleep.

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It was two weeks later when Iris came back with the results.

Amalia was with her grandmother, and Leonardo was thankfully at work and didn't look like he was coming back anytime soon.

"I'm so excited for you to come back," Iris beamed as we sat down at the table, the white envelope placed right in the middle of the table. "You're doing so much better, Ria. I'm proud of you!"

I smiled, pushing down my anxiety at the sight of the letter. "I'm excited too," I expressed truthfully, already thinking about the plans I had for Dream. It would be hard, but I knew it wouldn't be long until I could start dancing again. I would start; there was no way I was stopping because of what happened. "How's the foundation going? I heard the girls are doing a lot better."

"They are. Daisy has been having fewer appointments because she's recovering so well," Iris informed me. "Her parents say that she's finally getting back to herself again. That foundation was a good idea, Ria. Those girls needed the support." I was happy to hear that.

"What about you? How's therapy going?" Iris asked, sipping the tea in front of her.

Therapy was a lot for me to handle. Having to unravel all of my thoughts and emotions every session was difficult, but it was getting easier the more that I grew. I nodded before honestly answering, "Good." I sighed, glancing at the envelope again. "I'm sleeping a lot better now." I swung my leg a little before telling her with a smile, "And my ankle is healing well."

"It's tough, isn't it?" Iris empathetically said, her eyes fixed onto my ankle covered by my sock. "The constant reminder of what happened." I held my smile, looking down at my ankle and nodding. The never-ending reminder of that hammer slamming against me.

"Yeah...but I know that soon it won't be as painful," I lamented before admitting, "sometimes I feel like I don't have a right to be feeling this way." I lightly scoffed, "I mean, the other girls had been there longer than me." Iris gave me a warm look, shaking her head.

"No, Ria, you have a right to feel the way that you do. You were affected too," Iris reassured me, her eyes concerned. "It doesn't matter how big or how small. You were there too." A more positive look came onto my face as I let out a breath.

"Do you know what's inside?" I asked Iris, referring to the letter. She exhaled loudly, almost looking afraid as well to open it. "No..." She groaned, "How did you discover something like this? This could change everything!"

I released my hand from the fist it was making out of anxiety and slowly brought the envelope across the table and into my hands. "It could. Or it could just be fake," I hoped, though I wasn't even convinced myself. I sharply inhaled, feeling the pressure in my chest. Swallowing roughly, I confidently began opening the envelope and pulling out the letter.

"Here we go," I whispered under my breath, unable to take the anticipation of what could be inside. "Please..." I murmured, my eyes carefully reading the words before me.

99.9%...

Alleged Father Vincenzo R...

My hands immediately went to cover my mouth.

I closed my eyes and placed the letter down, Iris taking it to read for herself. I groaned, covering my face as I shook my head.

There was only one person I needed to see to confirm it all one last time.

That person being Vincenzo.

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Vincenzo was happily willing to meet me at a cafe without knowing what questions I had ready for him.

Vincenzo walked in looking exquisite as usual. He always dressed well; his extortionate clothes could make anyone blind. He had a character to him; Vincenzo looked strong, authoritative, and incredibly handsome. The man took care of himself: his skin, his attire, his mentality. Vincenzo was a man any woman would find attractive: muscular, charming, and inviting.

His heartless nature was something that won over women. He was the most ruthless out of the Romano brothers, merciless and intimidating when on the wrong side of him despite being as playful as he was. Vincenzo was cruel when it came to his job. But the Vincenzo I knew was inherently good. He wasn't a bad person, but he was a mafia man, cold and savage when he needed to be. He never showed me that side to him, but I knew of it.

Amalia's dad.

My heart clenched at the thought of it as he continued to walk closer. Even his walk was telling. That man was powerful and mighty. I deeply inhaled, feeling my nerves going all over the place the more I realised I needed to address such a difficult topic.

My eyes followed as Vincenzo sat down with a smile on his face, completely unaware of what I was about to reveal to him.

"Ria, you're early. Are you here to confess that you want me and not him?" Vincenzo joked as he tucked his chair in, then he thanked me for the espresso I had ordered for him. My chest hurt even hearing him joke. My lips curved upwards to form a smile, but my eyes didn't match, and that was when Vincenzo realised that I wasn't there to play. I didn't want to bring such a dark mood to the table, but it needed to be done. Vincenzo and I hadn't spoken so seriously in a long time. I wasn't used to seeing him look focused for once.

"Something's wrong," Vincenzo noted, his tone low and heavy as the atmosphere quickly grew dim. I slowly let out my breath before taking a sip of my lemon tea. "What's wrong, beautiful?" I closed my eyes, finding myself emotional even thinking about asking him. I didn't want to hear an answer that would mean I would be angry at Vincenzo. We were family; Vincenzo and I never argued. But finding out a confirmation of that letter from him would seriously damage my perception of him.

I knew he was a player, a popular man with women. But surely, surely he wouldn't have gone that far?

"Vince..." I began, wanting to get straight to the point. He didn't look worried; his eyes were focused attentively on me, never leaving mine as he wholeheartedly waited for me to say what was on my chest. "I'm going to ask you this question once, and I don't want any diversions or excuses. Just answer 'yes' or 'no,' okay?" His eyebrows lowered a little, deciphering how serious I was being. Even he wasn't used to it. Vincenzo leaned a little forward as he gazed at me, confused but ready.

"Okay," Vincenzo casually replied, the key to unlock what was coming next.

I exhaled again, swallowing as I felt my heart hammer in my chest, ready to explode. It felt hot; I felt uncomfortable and stressed. I needed to get it out of me, unable to wait any longer for a response.

"Did you..." I hesitated, hating myself for struggling so much. His answer could change everything.

"Vincenzo, did you sleep with Elisa?"

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~ Author's Note ~

The paternity test has made a conclusion!

I've left you all on another cliffhanger! Next chapter will reveal a lot more!

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