Chapter 170: 170 ~ Jace
"Now that the war is over, what’s next?"
I looked up from my phone and stared at my mother.
Yup, she had fully recovered and now had time to interrogate me. I had a feeling I knew where this conversation was heading.
"You seem much better."
"Of course I am."
I almost laughed. My mother could be sassy.
"Well, answer me."
"I focus on work." I shrugged. "And prepare for the next battle because they never end." I eventually added.
"I was thinking of something more domestic."
I arched a brow. "Domestic?"
"You and Mira have been married for a while now. It’s about time you start trying for kids, don’t you think?"
I swallowed. I was right. This was what she wanted to talk about.
"Kids," I repeated, dragging a hand over my jaw. "You don’t waste time, do you?"
Donna Carmela arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You’re not getting any younger, Jacopo. And Mira isn’t either."
I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. "I just ended a war, mom. Can I breathe for five minutes before you hand me diapers and lullabies?"
She gave me that look - the one that had silenced generals, politicians, and, unfortunately, me since I was a boy. "Peace doesn’t last forever. If you want a family, you build it now. While the world is quiet."
I leaned back against the sofa, studying her. She looked strong again and sharper than she had in several weeks since she got shot. It was a relief to see her like this. Alive. Steady. And still bossing me around like the matriarch she had always been.
"You and father never stopped, did you?" I asked quietly.
Her expression softened. "Your father was a tyrant, but even he knew the importance of legacy. You are all that remains of his."
Legacy. That word always tasted like blood. Her last sentence felt like heavy weight on me.
I stayed silent for a moment, my thoughts drifting to Mira upstairs. The woman who had stood through fire and grief and madness with me . She was the one person who still looked at me like I was human.
A family.
The idea wasn’t foreign to me, but it was also dangerous. In our world, love was a weakness, and family was a target.
"I don’t know if Mira’s ready," I said after a pause.
My mother smiled faintly. "And are you?"
The question hit harder than I expected.
I looked away. "I don’t know if I want my child born into this."
"Then build a world where that doesn’t happen," she said simply, rising from her seat. "You’ve killed enough monsters, Jace. Maybe it’s time you try being something else."
When she left the room, her words lingered.
They always did.
~
Later that evening, I found Mira in the kitchen, barefoot and humming quietly as she mixed something in a bowl. The smell of sugar and cinnamon filled the air. It was strange how peace could feel so domestic. It felt like something I didn’t deserve but couldn’t stop wanting.
She looked up when she sensed me at the doorway. "You’re staring again."
I smirked. "You caught me."
"What’s on your mind, Mr. Romano?"
"You, mostly." I moved closer, slipping my arms around her waist from behind. Her laughter was soft, her warmth immediate. I rested my chin on her shoulder. "My mother thinks we should start trying for kids."
Her hands stilled. "Oh?"
"Yeah. She said it’s time." I rasped against her ear, sniffing the vanilla scent around her neck.
Mira turned her head slightly, searching my face. "And what do you think?"
"I think she’s bossy." I grinned.
She smiled but didn’t let me dodge it. "Jace."
I sighed, brushing my thumb along her wrist. "I think... I like the idea more than I thought I would."
Her eyes softened instantly, but there was something in them. It was hesitation. The kind she tried to hide but couldn’t.
"I want that too," she said quietly. "I just... don’t know if I can."
That caught me off guard. I turned her around to face me fully. "What do you mean?"
She looked down, fiddling with her fingers. "It’s been a while, and I just keep wondering if something’s wrong with me. Maybe the stress, maybe..."
"Hey." I tilted her chin up gently until her gaze met mine. "Don’t ever say that again."
"But—"
"No." My voice softened. "Nothing’s wrong with you. You’ve been through hell and back, Mira. Your body just needs time. That’s all."
Her lips trembled slightly. "What if it never happens?"
"Then we keep trying until it does," I said simply. "And if it doesn’t, I still have you. That’s all I ever wanted."
Her eyes glistened, and for a second, she looked like she might cry. But instead she gave me a small and fragile smile.
"You say things like that, and it’s impossible to stay mad at you," she whispered.
"Then it’s working," I teased, kissing her forehead.
She leaned into me, resting her head against my chest. "What would you name them?"
I chuckled. "You already have names?"
She shrugged. "I might have thought about it once or twice."
"Let’s hear it."
"If it’s a boy — Matteo. If it’s a girl — Lucia."
I smiled. "Lucia Romano. That sounds dangerous."
"Not everyone has to sound dangerous." She giggled.
"Tell that to her father," I murmured.
She swatted my arm playfully. "You’d spoil her rotten."
"Of course I would. She would be unstoppable."
We laughed quietly, the kind of laughter that felt rare and sacred. I kissed her again, slower this time, my hand slipping to the small of her back.
Maybe Donna was right. Maybe it was time to stop living like the war would never end.
Maybe it was time to start building something worth protecting.
When Mira pulled back, her eyes were still bright. "You’re thinking too much," she said.
"Maybe," I admitted. "But it’s nice to think about things that don’t involve guns or enemies."
She smiled and rose on her toes to kiss me again. "Welcome to normal life, Mr. Romano."
"Can’t say I hate it," I murmured against her lips.
And for the first time in a long time, I really meant it.