The temptation of my brother-in-law-Chapter 201 - Two Hundred And One

Chapter Two Hundred And One

Alicia’s POV

Three months passed.

I woke up one morning in December to find Malachi already awake, his hand resting on my stomach.

"She’s moving," he said quietly. "I can feel her."

I put my hand over his. The baby was indeed moving. Little flutters that had become stronger over the past few weeks.

"She’s active this morning."

"She knows her father’s here."

"You can’t possibly know that."

"I can. She moves more when I’m around."

He was probably right. I’d noticed it too but hadn’t wanted to say anything.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Almost eight. Your grandmother will have breakfast ready soon."

"She always has breakfast ready."

"We’re Italian now. We eat on schedule."

I smiled. We’d fallen into a routine here. Breakfast with the family. Malachi working in his office. Me spending time with Sophie or Signora Moretti or sometimes just resting. Dinner together every night.

It was peaceful. Normal. Everything I’d never had before.

I was almost twenty weeks now. Five months. Halfway through the pregnancy.

The baby was growing. I was growing. My clothes didn’t fit anymore. I’d had to buy an entirely new wardrobe.

Malachi loved it. Loved seeing the physical proof of our child. His hands were constantly on my stomach now. Feeling for movement. Talking to the baby.

It was sweet. Unexpected from a man who’d spent his life being hard and violent.

But he was different here. Away from Dark City. Away from the family business. Away from everything that had made him into a weapon.

Here, he was just Malachi. Just a man preparing to be a father.

"Are you nervous?" I asked. "About the appointment today?"

We had the twenty-week anatomy scan scheduled. The big ultrasound where they checked everything. Made sure the baby was developing properly.

"A little. What if something’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong. I can feel it."

"But what if—"

"Stop. Don’t borrow trouble. We’ll go. We’ll see our baby. Everything will be fine."

He nodded but didn’t look convinced.

We got dressed and went downstairs. The kitchen was full as always. Sophie. Signora Moretti. Alessandro. Marco had already left for work.

"Big day today," Signora Moretti said. "You’ll see the baby properly."

"We’re excited."

"And nervous," Malachi added.

"That’s normal. Every parent is nervous at the twenty-week scan." She poured coffee. "But this baby is strong. Like her mother. Like her grandmother. She’ll be perfect."

"How do you know it’s a girl?" Sophie asked.

"I just know. Call it grandmother’s intuition."

We ate breakfast quickly. The appointment was at ten and we wanted to be early.

The drive to the doctor’s office was quiet. Malachi held my hand the whole way.

"Talk to me," I said. "Tell me what you’re thinking."

"I’m thinking that in a few hours we’ll know if our baby is healthy. We’ll see her. Really see her. And I’m terrified that something will be wrong. That I’ll have failed to protect her already."

"You can’t protect her from genetics. From development. That’s not how it works."

"I know. But I want to. I want to protect her from everything."

"You will. When she’s born. When she’s here. You’ll protect her. But right now, you have to trust that she’s okay. That she’s growing the way she should be."

"And if she’s not?"

"Then we’ll deal with it. Together. Like we deal with everything."

He raised my hand to his lips. Kissed it. "Okay. Together."

The doctor’s office was nice. Private. The kind of place where celebrities and wealthy people went for medical care. No waiting. No crowds. Just privacy and discretion.

The ultrasound technician was a woman in her fifties. Kind eyes. Gentle hands.

"Let’s see this baby," she said.

I lay back on the table. Malachi stood beside me, gripping my hand.

The gel was cold. The wand pressed against my stomach. And then—

There she was.

On the screen. Our baby. Fully formed. Moving. Real.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

Malachi said nothing. Just stared at the screen like it was a miracle.

"Everything looks good," the technician said. "Heart is strong. Four chambers. All the organs are where they should be. Spine looks great. Brain development is perfect."

"Really?" Malachi’s voice cracked. "Everything’s okay?"

"Everything’s perfect. You have a very healthy baby." She moved the wand. "Would you like to know the sex?"

I looked at Malachi. "Do we want to know?"

"Yes. I need to know. Need to start thinking of her as real. As our daughter."

"You keep saying her."

"Because I know. I just know."

The technician smiled. "Well, father’s intuition is correct. It’s a girl."

Malachi’s knees buckled. He sat down hard in the chair beside the table.

"A daughter," he whispered. "We’re having a daughter."

Tears streamed down my face. "A little girl."

"A healthy little girl," the technician corrected. "Perfect in every way. Would you like pictures?"

"Yes. All of them. Every angle."

She laughed. "I’ll print you a whole set."

The rest of the appointment was a blur. Measurements. Explanations. Due date confirmation. October eighth.

When we left, Malachi was carrying a folder full of ultrasound pictures.

"A daughter," he kept saying. "We’re having a daughter."

"You sound surprised."

"I am. I was so sure. But hearing it confirmed... it makes it real."

We got in the car but didn’t drive. Just sat there looking at the pictures.

"She has your nose," I said.

"You can’t possibly tell that from an ultrasound."

"I can. Look. Right there. That’s your nose."

He studied the picture. "Maybe. But she has your chin. See? Stubborn chin."

"My chin is not stubborn."

"It absolutely is. And she’s going to have it. And she’s going to be just as stubborn as you."

"Good. She’ll need to be stubborn. With you as a father, she’ll need to stand her ground."

He looked at me. "I’m going to spoil her. You know that, right? She’s going to be so spoiled."

"I know. And I’m going to let you. Because watching you be a father is going to be the best thing I’ve ever seen."

"I’m terrified."

"Good. That means you care. That means you’ll try your best."

"What if my best isn’t enough?"

"It will be. I promise."

We drove back to the estate. Sophie was waiting at the door.

"Well? Is everything okay?"

"Everything’s perfect," I said. "It’s a girl."

Sophie screamed. Actually screamed. Then grabbed me in a hug.

"I’m going to be an aunt to a girl! I can teach her things! I can—oh my God, I need to start planning!"

She ran inside yelling for Signora Moretti.

Malachi laughed. "Your sister is going to be a problem."

"The best kind of problem."

Inside, the whole family had gathered. Signora Moretti. Alessandro. Even Marco had come home early.

"A girl," Signora Moretti said. "I knew it. I told you. Grandmother’s intuition."

"You were right," I said.

"Of course I was right. Now, we need to plan. The nursery. The baptism. The name ceremony. So much to do."

"We have five months—"

"Five months is nothing. Time flies. We start planning today."

Alessandro brought out champagne. Sparkling cider for me.

"To the newest Moretti-Blackwood," he said, raising his glass. "May she be healthy, happy, and strong."

"To our daughter," Malachi added. "May she never know the darkness. May she only know love."

We drank. We celebrated. We looked at ultrasound pictures until everyone had memorized every detail.

That night, I lay in bed while Malachi talked to my stomach.

"Hello, little one. It’s your father. We saw you today. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Everything I never knew I wanted." He paused. "I’m going to do everything I can to give you a good life. A safe life. A life where you never have to be afraid. Where you can be whoever you want to be. I promise."

The baby kicked. Right where his hand was.

"She heard you," I whispered.

"She knows me already."

"She loves you already."

He looked up at me. "Have you thought about names?"

"A little. Have you?"

"I want something Italian. To honor your mother. To honor the Morettis. To give her roots here."

"What about Giuliana? After my mother?"

His expression softened. "Giuliana. I love it."

"Giuliana Moretti Blackwood."

"That’s a big name for a little person."

"She’ll grow into it. And we can call her Lia for short."

"Lia." He tested it. "Our Lia. Yes. That’s perfect."

"You’re sure? We don’t have to decide now—"

"I’m sure. Giuliana. Named for the woman who was brave enough to choose love over comfort. Who was strong enough to build a new life. Who gave us you."

Tears filled my eyes. "She would have loved that."

"She would have loved you. Loved this baby. Loved watching you build the life she wanted for you."

"I wish she was here."

"Me too. But she is, in a way. In you. In Lia. In the choices you’re making."

I pulled him close. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For this. For us. For giving me everything I never knew I needed."

"That’s my line."

We fell asleep like that. His hand on my stomach. Our daughter between us.

And for the first time in my life, I felt complete.

Not because of a man. Not because of a baby.

But because I’d finally found where I belonged.

With family. With love. With a future that was mine to build.