Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
We climb on the bed and lay Diego down between us. Obsessed with our newborn, we stare at him for an hour before he wakes up.
The moment he lets out a cry, Armani darts upright. “What’s wrong?”
I let out a chuckle. “He’s probably hungry.”
I move into a comfortable position, propping the pillows behind me, and lift Diego to my chest. The moment I pull my shirt and bra out of the way, he makes fussing sounds, his lips parting. I get him to latch onto me, and he begins to suck.
“Can I get you anything?” Armani asks.
“Water, please.”
He darts out of the room and is only gone a couple of seconds before he returns with a bottle of water. He sits down on the bed and watches as I feed our son.
Slowly, he shakes his head. “Dio, bella. You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right now.”
My lips curve up. “You look scorching hot when you hold our son.”
Armani chuckles, “Seems that having a baby acts as an aphrodisiac.”
I let out a happy sigh, and look down at Diego, who’s starting to grow sleepy again.
I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from his face. Armani gets comfortable next to us, and pressing his face into the crook of my neck, he drapes his arm over my stomach. Gently he caresses his fingers over Diego’s tiny leg.
It doesn’t take long for Armani to join his son in dreamland, and with my husband’s breath on my neck, and our son fast asleep in my arms, my chest fills with so much happiness, I’m unable to contain it.
A tear spirals down my cheek, and I don’t bother brushing it away.
Thank you for answering my prayers and giving me everything I’ve ever wanted.
I have a beautiful home, a husband I love more than life itself, and a son I’ll die for.
I finally have a family of my own.
Epilogue
Tiana
Three years later…
After we land in Russia, Armani drives us to our destination.
I’ve begged him to tell me where we’re going, but he refused to give me any hints.
The area looks vaguely familiar, and when the SUV turns up a specific street, my heart starts to beat fast.
My head snaps to Armani. “Why are we here?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “You’ll see soon enough. Patience, bella.”
Diego is playing with his cars on the back seat, blissfully unaware that his mother’s about to have a panic attack.
“Armani,” I complain. “I don’t want to go back there.”
He reaches across and grips my hand tightly. “I know it’s hard, but the surprise will be worth it.”
I shake my head as he turns up the driveway, and when he stops in front of the orphanage, I feel like crying.
He gets out and grabs Diego from the back seat before coming to open my door.
I shake my head again.
Armani takes my hand again and pulls me out. “Trust me.”
Following my husband to the front door of the one place on earth, I never wanted to see again, I can’t think of a good reason for him to bring me here.
A friendly-looking lady meets us at the door. “Mr. and Mrs. De Santis. It’s so good to finally meet you in person.” Her eyes lock on Armani, “I just want to thank you for all the donations you and Mr. Petrov have made to the orphanage. It helps so much.”
I look at Armani with shock as he murmurs, “You’re welcome.”
Wow. I wasn’t aware Armani and Misha are taking care of the orphanage.
It fills my heart with warmth as we walk through the familiar hallways.
Stepping out the back, children are running around and playing.
We were never allowed to play outside. We had to keep quiet and do our chores.
Glad to see the place has changed, I take the steps down, my eyes on all the children.
Armani points to the left of the lawn, where a little girl is playing in a sandpit. “We’re here for her.” A shockwave hits me square in the heart, and my eyes fly to Armani’s face. “You said you wished we could have a little girl, so I called the orphanage and made the arrangements.”
Oh my God.
My hands cover my mouth as I start to walk toward her.
After I had Diego, I couldn’t fall pregnant again. I was devastated when the doctor told me I wouldn’t be able to have more children.
When I reach the girl, she looks up at me and smiles. “Hi.”
I crouch in front of her, drinking in the sight of her pretty face. She has black hair and blue eyes.
God, she reminds me so much of myself when I was here.
I sit down flat on my butt and look at the patterns she’s drawing in the sand.
“Hi, precious,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”
She shrugs. “Nothing.”
Unable to resist, I lift my hand and brush my palm over her hair. “Why aren’t you playing with the other kids?”