Sold To The Mafia Don-Chapter 193 - 3 ~ Mira

By the third time the delivery truck pulled up outside our house, I began to realize something very important:

We were going to raise a spoiled princess.

And it was entirely Jace’s fault.

I stood in the nursery doorway, arms crossed over my bump, watching as two men carried in yet another box — this one labeled ITALIAN HANDCRAFTED WOODEN ROCKING HORSE in big proud letters.

"A rocking horse?" I asked flatly.

Jace didn’t even look guilty. "It’s traditional."

"For who? Kings?" I asked again.

He smirked. "What’s the difference?"

I opened my mouth and closed it again, mostly because I couldn’t really argue with that. Our daughter was definitely being born into a royal bloodline — just not the kind anyone would envy.

The room had started out empty days ago. It was just beige walls and marbled floors but now it looked like Pinterest and a luxury baby boutique had exploded.

The crib was the first thing that arrived.

It had soft ivory wood with gold accents and hand-carved details that probably took someone six months and a prayer to finish.

Then came the dresser, the changing table, the plush rug shaped like a moon, the cloud-shaped shelving, the tiny clothes (which were all designer, unnecessarily), and the overflowing mountain of stuffed animals.

And now... a rocking horse.

I pressed a hand to my forehead. I thought I was a shopaholic but Jace had topped the chart on this one.

"This child is going to come out thinking she owns the world," I murmured.

Jace stood beside the crib, sleeves pushed up, using a screwdriver like he’d been born assembling furniture. Which was a lie because he had no idea how to do any of this, but he refused to let anyone else do it first.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. "She does own the world."

"I thought you owned the world." I retorted with a smirk that mirrored his.

He shrugged. "We share."

I didn’t know whether to laugh or kiss him. Maybe both.

I walked into the room slowly, trailing my fingers along the edge of the crib. The soft scent of new wood and lavender cleaner hung in the air. Sunlight poured in through sheer curtains, painting everything in a gold glow.

It was beautiful. It had this warm, soft glow that made it feel homely.

It was everything my child deserved. Everything I once thought I’d never have.

Jace straightened, wiping his palms on his sweatpants. "Come here."

I went to him.

He guided my hand to the center of the crib mattress. "What do you think? Firm, but comfortable. The reviews said—"

I raised a brow, cutting him off. "You read reviews?"

"Extensively."

He said it like he’d studied battle strategies.

I laughed before I could stop myself. "You’re ridiculous, Jace."

He stepped closer, hand sliding to my lower back. "You love that about me."

"Sadly, yes." I pouted.

He kissed my pout away with a soft, slow brush of his lips against mine that felt like he was trying to tuck a whole lifetime of feelings into a moment.

When he pulled back, his gaze softened as it dropped to my belly.

She kicked again like she always did when she heard his voice.

He froze when he spotted it. The crop tops I had been wearing all summer due to the heat made it easier for him to see for himself.

Then he smiled. It was that raw, unguarded, beautiful smile I only ever saw at home. It usually disappeared when we went out for events or anything for that matter.

"She knows me," he murmured.

"She’s obsessed with you already," I sighed, hating how she was taking his side when she wasn’t even out yet.

"Good," he whispered. "She should be."

I leaned into him as his hand traced slow circles over my bump. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Then I looked around the room again — at the stacks of unopened boxes, the baby monitor, the tiny bookshelf filled with children’s books we didn’t even remember ordering.

"This is too much," I said quietly.

He didn’t argue.

He didn’t tease.

He just exhaled and pulled me against his chest.

"I know." His voice was low, almost thoughtful. "I just... I didn’t have this growing up. Not softness. Not warmth. Not a room that made me feel safe." He paused. "I want her to have everything I didn’t."

That hit somewhere deep and tender. I could relate to not having all the fancy stuff too. Mostly because we couldn’t afford it. For him, it was a different ball game. It was an erasure of warmth not an issue of lack.

I swallowed. "She will."

He nodded, jaw tightening slightly like he was holding something back. "And I want you to have it too."

I felt a lump in my throat and swallowed.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. "Jace?"

"Hm?"

"We could’ve had two stuffed animals and a blanket on the floor and I would’ve still loved this. Because it’s ours. Because we made it together."

He closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them again, something in his expression had softened even more.

"I know," he murmured. "But let me spoil both of you anyway."

I leaned my head against his chest. "Fine."

"Fine?" he echoed, pretending to be offended. "Just fine?"

"A little spoiled is allowed," I conceded.

"A little?" He raised a brow.

"Don’t push your luck."

He laughed so deeply, the sound filled the room like sunlight.

We spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking baby shoes and tiny hats while I sat on a cushioned chair because apparently I wasn’t allowed to "lift anything heavier than a sock."

He assembled shelves.

I arranged stuffed animals.

We argued about whether the crib should face the window.

He won. Obviously.

And when the last of the golden sunset spilled across the nursery, I stood back and looked at the room — really looked.

It wasn’t just pretty.

It was home.

Our home.

Our daughter’s first home.

I blinked hard. "She’s going to love it here."

Jace stepped behind me, arms wrapping around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.

"No," he whispered.

"She’s going to love you."

And I knew, in that warm, quiet room full of soft colors and future dreams that...

We were already a family.