My name is Eveline. Eveline Tate.
I am the daughter of Lucas and Rebecca Tate. Yup, THE Lucas and Becca Tate. Don't ask me why, but I grew up knowing that they are someone important. Uncle Mike is still working for dad, as his bodyguard. I used to...
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"Pumpkin..." Lucas whispers, coming closer to the other side of the bed, grabbing her hand.
She stares at him, saying nothing, and shifts her eyes to me.
"Mia dolce amore..." I speak my mind out loud, flooded with thrills to see her beautiful orbs, and she glues her eyes to me, tears streaming out from her eyes, rolling down her temples.
"Enzo... the baby..." she whispers, her dry lips barely moving.
I bend over and capture those lips, cupping her face with my hands and feeling the skin on her face with my palms. My eyes sting with tears but I fight to hold them back.
It was too much! The feeling of losing her was the hardest fear I ever had to put up with.
"It's fine. The baby is fine. You're fine as well. It's all gone now, love," I tell her, peppering kisses on her head, forehead, and face.
"Oh God..." she sobs in relief and squeezes weakly my hand. "I'm sorry, Enzo. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you," she speaks between her sobs.
"Sh, it's okay, baby. It's okay," I tell her, looking deep into her eyes, sounding as genuine as I can.
"Please stop crying, Eve," I whisper, kissing her eyes, one by one.
She nods, tears still rolling down her temples and a small smile creeping on her beautiful face. She frowns and lifts one hand to my blue eye, brushing her fingertips on my smashed skin.
"What happened to you?" she asks in concern, shifting her eyes to Lucas.
"Dad..." she says, scolding her father, seeing him just as black and blue as I am. "Did you two..."
"Settled the things. Yes, love, we did," I rush to tell her before she uselessly worries more about something that has been bound to happen, anyway.
That's Lucas' and my way.
"And that was the only way?" she asks.
"That was the way we had at hand at the moment," I reply, shrugging my shoulders and kissing the knuckles of her hand.
"Sweetie, how are you feeling?" Lucas asks, caressing her forehead. "The doctor said you were quite a fighter," he continues, getting closer and planting a kiss on the knuckles of her other hand and playing with the curls of her hair.
She shifts her look from me to Lucas, blushing lightly and smiling sheepishly.
"I must be really special," she chuckles, glaring at us through her thick eyelashes, my beautiful angel feeling to joke.
"The Don of NY and the Don of Italy on their toes for me," she continues, showing a beaming smile.
"Brat..." I mumble.
"Hey," Lucas scolds me for daring to call names at his daughter.
"You deserve that, sweetheart. You deserve much more, pumpkin," he continues, shifting his eyes to his daughter, instantly switching from threatening looks to warm glares at her, planting one more kiss on her cheeks.
