The night sky over Italy was painted with stars, glowing softly above the De Luca mansion. The entire estate was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of waves crashing somewhere far below the cliff. Inside, the air smelled of lavender and warmth — Elena's favorite scent.
She was sitting by the balcony, wrapped in one of Lorenzo's shirts, her hand resting gently on her stomach. Every time she felt the faintest flutter of life, she smiled. It still felt like a dream — after everything she'd been through, after all the pain and fear, she was now carrying the child of the man she once thought was a monster.
Lorenzo appeared behind her, fresh from a late-night call. His steps were soft, his eyes softer. "You should be sleeping, amore mio," he murmured, crouching beside her chair.
"I couldn't," she whispered, her voice small and filled with wonder. "It's so peaceful tonight. I can hear the baby's heartbeat in the wind."
He smiled faintly, placing a hand on her belly. "You can hear it, hmm? My little warrior, already making his mother lose sleep."
Elena laughed quietly. "What if it's a girl?"
Lorenzo leaned closer. "Then I'll have two queens to protect instead of one."
His words melted her completely. The ruthless Mafia boss — the man the world called Il Diavolo — now knelt beside her like a servant of love. He pressed his lips to her hand, his eyes holding something that could only be described as devotion.
She turned to him. "Do you ever think about the past? About how we met?"
He chuckled lowly. "Every night. And every time, I still can't believe I let them bring you into my world."
"But aren't you glad you did?" she teased.
"I'm terrified," he said honestly. "Because I've never had something this precious to lose."
Her heart tightened. She stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her. "You'll never lose me. Not me, not our baby. I promise."
Lorenzo pulled her close, burying his face into her shoulder. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The moonlight washed over them, turning the shadows soft and silver.
Suddenly, Elena broke the silence with a mischievous grin. "You still owe me that fish soup from last week."
He groaned. "Don't remind me. You nearly gave me a heart attack, running out at two in the morning."
"You came running after me barefoot," she giggled.
"I thought someone kidnapped you again," he muttered, glaring playfully. "Turns out you were chasing a food truck."
She laughed so hard tears filled her eyes. "I told you I was craving it."
"And I told you I'd make you one instead. But you don't listen." He kissed her forehead. "So I stood there at 2:13 a.m., buying fish soup from a terrified chef who thought I was going to shoot him."
Elena burst out laughing again, leaning into his chest. "I love you, Lorenzo."
He looked down at her — and for once, there was no coldness in his eyes. Just warmth. "Say that again," he whispered.
"I love you."
He took her hand, placed it over his heart, and whispered, "Then this is yours."
She looked up, eyes glistening. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"No matter what happens… no matter who comes after us or what danger we face — promise you won't go back to that violent world. Promise me you'll fight differently this time."
Lorenzo hesitated. It was the hardest promise for a man like him to make. Violence was his shield, his language, his power. But then he looked at her — the woman who had tamed the Devil himself — and nodded.
"I promise, Elena. For you. For our child. I'll be the man you deserve."
Her lips trembled as she smiled, and she kissed him — softly at first, then deeper, as if sealing their vow with their hearts. The night around them held its breath.
Moments later, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to bed. "You need rest," he said. "The little one inside you doesn't like it when you stay up late."
She smirked faintly. "You talk like you can already hear them."
"I can," he whispered. "Every time I touch you, I can feel their heartbeat calling me to protect you both."
When they lay down, Elena rested her head on his chest. "Do you think our baby will look like you or me?"
Lorenzo chuckled softly. "If it's a boy, he'll have your eyes — I couldn't survive another me. If it's a girl, she'll have your smile, because the world doesn't deserve mine."
Elena smiled, closing her eyes. "You're different now."
He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You made me different."
As she drifted to sleep, Lorenzo stayed awake, watching her. Every breath she took felt like a prayer answered. For the first time in his life, he wasn't planning a war or plotting revenge. He was just… at peace.
He kissed her hair and whispered, "No more blood, no more fear. Only you."
Outside, the wind carried the scent of rain and roses. The world was still dangerous, but for this one night, it didn't matter.
Because love — their love — had turned the Devil into a man.