Chapter 5

Alessia

The dark, gloomy clouds were a hallmark feature of Italy's weather.

If anything else, they sent a cold chill down my spine, solidifying my split-second decision to return to Italy after seeing Grandma’s will in my mail. I was so shocked that I had suffered all that isolation and mistreatment for years when I was never supposed to.

So, I made the life-changing decision to return to Italy with my kids—to deal with everyone who hurt me and to find the stranger who had literally saved my life and that of my children. It was easy to make a few calls with my American friends, and the next thing I knew, I was on a one-way flight with my kids.

I had made living and transport reservations to get us settled in smoothly, but the pit of my stomach still churned with uneasiness.

“Mommy, my coat!” Tino whined as we got off the plane after touchdown.

“Let me help you.” Renzo was at his side in a second, fixing the buttons.

“Thank you, Renzo.” I patted his hair and pulled Tiziana and Ruggero closer. That was when the clouds finally gave way to rain.

Exclamations resounded around us, even though no one seemed particularly surprised. London’s weather had always been erratic, and experiencing it again brought a thick wave of nostalgia over me.

“Okay, let’s hurry to cover. I can’t let any of you catch a cold!” I ushered my kids forward as we all ran for shelter.

After baggage claim, the rain was still pouring viciously outside and didn’t seem like it would stop anytime soon. It was stressful maneuvering through the airport with luggage and four kids trailing behind me, drawing stares wherever we went. I was used to the attention—quadruplets were insanely rare.

We were all tired from the journey, and the rain only made it worse. To make things even worse, I couldn’t find the ride I had booked.

I adjusted my scarf and took one look at my babies, immediately feeling guilty for putting them through all of this without an explanation.

I had only told them we were going to visit Mommy’s real city and that it would be fun. Fun, I couldn’t guarantee. I was here for messy and potentially dangerous matters—but my children had to know their roots.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do.” I crouched down in front of them. “Mommy will go get us a nice, warm ride and some pretty umbrellas, while you four stay put until I get back, okay?”

I pointed to the security woman standing close by. “I’ll ask her to watch over you. Mommy won’t take long, alright?”

They nodded slowly.

Straightening up, I approached the security officer and explained the situation, asking for her help in keeping an eye on the kids. She nodded. I had expected a more engaging response, but I had to make do.

“Okay, come sit here.” I settled them onto the cold, hard seats and adjusted their coats. I placed our luggage beside them and kissed their foreheads.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll keep watch,” Renzo said.

I sighed. “Baby, don’t worry. The security will do that, okay? Be a good boy and rest with your siblings, hm?”

Pulling my coat closer, I turned and walked in the opposite direction. My steps were hurried—I didn’t want to spend a second longer than necessary away from my precious jewels.

~~~~~~~~

Matteo Rinaldi

Even granite wasn’t as stony as my expression as I ended the damn call.

It was my chauffeur. He had called to inform me that he was stuck in traffic miles away from the airport and running late. I had just arrived after a ten-hour flight, and the last thing I needed was a delay—combined with one of London’s insufferable rains.

Cursing under my breath, I shoved my phone into my pocket and strode into the airport lounge. Half of my attention was on my surroundings, while the other half wondered if I could get a taxi.

I hated taxis.

They were nearly always in bad condition, never to my taste, and sprayed with some cheap fragrance. The heating was always slightly off—too high or too low, but never perfect. And not even the most expensive of them could come close to the comfort of my vehicles.

Or maybe I was just an arrogant, spoiled jerk. Hell, if I cared.

Damn, I was starving too. The crap served on the plane was inedible, and it was supposed to be first-class service. Only the champagne and sparkling water were acceptable—almost enough to make me consider suing them for the inconvenience.

In the midst of my thoughts, my peripheral vision caught on something.

I looked.

A few feet away sat four small children in colorful coats.

Yes, kids in an airport were common enough.

But this…

This wasn’t a common sight.

They were quadruplets—three boys and a girl.

That alone was rare enough. But the real reason I froze in my tracks had nothing to do with their number.

The boys looked like me.

Not vaguely. Not coincidentally. They looked like miniature versions of me, as though someone had taken my childhood photographs and brought them to life in triplicate. The resemblance was so sharp it stole the air from my lungs.

Before logic or caution could stop me, I found myself moving toward them. A strange man approaching children alone in an airport should have set off every warning bell in my head—but none of that mattered when four pairs of eyes lifted to meet mine.

Bright blue eyes.

The exact same shade as mine.

There was no adult in sight—no one I could reasonably assume was with them—and they were far too young to be sitting alone in an airport this large. I lowered myself onto the seat beside them, watching as they studied me with open curiosity rather than fear.

“Where are your parents?” I asked gently, careful not to startle them.

“Our mommy will be right back,” one of the boys replied calmly. “She went to get us umbrellas because of the rain.”

His tone was steady, protective. Even at such a young age, he carried himself like a leader. I assumed he was the oldest. He only mentioned their mother—no father. That detail lodged painfully in my chest.

Another boy chimed in eagerly. “Our mommy is a weather forecaster! She just looks at the sky and knows when it’ll rain. Isn’t that cool?”

I laughed, surprised by how natural it felt—how comfortable I was around them. My gaze drifted to the little girl. She was watching me intently, her large chestnut-brown eyes thoughtful and quiet.

I smiled at her, but the smile faded almost instantly.

She looked familiar.

Not like me—but familiar in a way that stirred something deep and aching inside my chest. Like I had seen those features before… on someone else.

“I can tell when it’s going to rain too,” the youngest boy declared proudly, starting a playful argument with his brother.

I barely heard them.

Because suddenly, I remembered her.

A woman who could read the sky the same way. Who always knew when to bring an umbrella for me. I had been cold, distant, and unkind—but she never stopped caring. Not once.

My chest tightened painfully as memories crashed over me.

She had loved me unconditionally.

I had spent years hating myself for how badly I treated her. I never deserved what she gave me. And yet, part of me wished—selfishly—that she had told me the truth. About how she had been declared barren since her teenage years.

A truth I only learned through my family.

That knowledge had poisoned everything. I let Giulia whisper lies into my ears, let her destroy my ex-wife’s image, and in the end… I divorced the woman who truly loved me.

I thought I still had feelings for Giulia.

But my heart had been betraying me all along.

It had always belonged to another woman.

My ex-wife.

The very woman I convinced myself I despised.

“Mommy’s here! Yay!”

My head snapped up.

For one terrifying second, I thought my regret had finally driven me mad—that my thoughts had conjured her into existence.

But she was real.

Standing right there.

Alessia.

My ex-wife.