“Can I Sit With You?” the Maid’s Little Girl Asked — Then the Fiancée Said Something Cruel My daughter asked, “Can I sit with you?” and his fiancée laughed. I made Lily apologize to nobody.

Two years later, the Bellucci estate was completely unrecognizable.

The dark, imposing gothic architecture remained, but the atmosphere inside was filled with relentless, joyful chaos.

It was a warm Sunday afternoon in May. The French doors of the conservatory were thrown wide open, letting a gentle breeze carry the scent of blooming jasmine into the house.

Lily, now ten years old, was sprinting across the manicured lawn, laughing hysterically as she chased our massive golden retriever, a dog Damian had bought her for her ninth birthday.

I was sitting on the patio, watching them with a profound sense of peace. I wore a light floral sundress, resting my hand gently on the swelling curve of my stomach.

I was six months pregnant.

Damian walked out onto the patio, carrying a tray with fresh lemonade. He wore casual linen pants and a fitted white t-shirt, looking completely relaxed and ruggedly handsome. The harsh lines of stress that used to frame his face had completely vanished.

He set the tray down and took a seat beside me, immediately reaching out to place his large, warm hand over mine on my stomach.

Almost instantly, the baby kicked hard against his palm.

Damian’s eyes lit up with absolute wonder, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

"He has a strong kick today," Damian murmured, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "He is going to be a fighter."

"Hopefully, he won't have to fight nearly as hard as his parents did," I smiled, leaning my head against Damian’s shoulder.

"He will never have to," Damian promised fiercely. "This family is unbreakable now."

I looked out at the lawn, watching Lily tackle the golden retriever in a fit of giggles.

I thought about the terrified maid who had frantically tried to pull her daughter out of a corporate dining room, begging for forgiveness from a cruel heiress. I thought about the fear, the blackmail, and the violence we had survived to get to this moment.

We had burned the old world to the ground to build this one.

Damian wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me impossibly close.

"What are you thinking about, Mrs. Bellucci?" he asked softly, his lips brushing against my temple.

I looked up at the man who had saved me, the man who had given my daughter a father and given me a love story more epic than anything I could have ever dreamed.

"I was just thinking about how lucky I am," I whispered.

Damian smiled, turning his head to capture my lips in a slow, devastatingly tender kiss.

"No, Elena," Damian corrected me softly, his dark eyes shining with endless devotion. "I am the lucky one. You gave me a real life."