The morning sunlight slipped gently through the curtains, painting the kitchen in a soft gold. Bella stood by the counter, slicing strawberries for Rachel's breakfast, while the smell of toast filled the air. Behind her, Lucas leaned against the doorway, mug in hand, watching the two most important girls in his life with a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Rachel was chattering about how her teacher promised that if everyone behaved well this week, they'd get an extra recess. Her hair, still damp from her morning shower, clung in soft curls to her cheeks.
"Extra recess?" Lucas asked, setting his mug down and reaching to fix her bow. "That's a big deal, huh?"
Rachel nodded solemnly, then giggled when he tickled her cheek. "Yes, but only if we behave! You have to behave too, Dada."
He raised a brow. "Oh, I'll try, Miss Rachel. Though I can't promise not to steal your mom's strawberries."
Bella shook her head, fighting a smile. "You two are impossible in the mornings."
Lucas grinned. "And yet you like this. "
She rolled her eyes, hiding her smile behind the toast plate as she placed it on the table.
After breakfast, they left together — Bella carrying Rachel's little backpack while Lucas held Rachel's hand. It had become a familiar scene: the three of them walking side by side, the air crisp, the city already alive with noise.
When they reached the school gates, Ms. Allen greeted them warmly. "Good morning, Bella! Morning, Mr. Costanzo."
"Morning," Bella replied with a smile.
Ms. Allen crouched down to Rachel's level. "Are you excited, sweetheart? Next week is Sports Day! Wednesday morning — don't forget to mark your calendar."
Rachel gasped. "Sports Day? Can Dada play too?"
Ms. Allen smiled. "Of course, parents are invited."
Lucas glanced at Bella, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Looks like I've been booked for next Wednesday."
Bella chuckled softly. "You'll have to show up in your best cheering voice."
He leaned close enough for only her to hear. "For you? Always."
She quickly looked away, pretending to adjust Rachel's collar, her heart doing that fluttering thing it had been doing far too often lately.
After hugs and goodbyes, they watched Rachel run into her classroom, waving until she disappeared inside.
The ride home was quiet, filled with an easy comfort. When they returned, Bella went to tidy up while Lucas disappeared into the balcony for a short call.
A little while later, he found her in their room, fussing with her laptop and checking her reflection in the mirror for the fifth time.
"You look nervous," he said, leaning against the doorframe.
She gave him a nervous laugh. "It's my first proper interview in months, Lucas. And it's with a CEO. I can't look—unprofessional."
He walked over and gently tugged the hem of her blazer. "Then why are you wearing this?"
She frowned. "It's formal."
"It's stiff," he corrected softly. "You don't need to suffocate yourself to look professional. You'll be perfect in something comfortable. Trust me, you'll breathe better, and he'll listen to what you say — not what you're wearing."
Bella gave him a skeptical look, but his gaze was steady, reassuring.
"Fine," she muttered, slipping off the blazer. "But if I look underdressed—"
He grinned. "Then I'll put some dressing sense in him."
She laughed despite herself and changed into a light cream blouse and soft beige pants. Her hair was tied back neatly, a few strands framing her face. When she turned, Lucas gave a low appreciative hum.
"There," he said. "Now you look like you — not a corporate robot."
Bella rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the little smile tugging at her lips.
She sat down at the desk while Lucas stood just behind her, scrolling through his phone but clearly staying close, like he always did when she had something important.
The screen flickered to life, and a man with neatly combed dark hair and sharp blue eyes appeared — Alessio Di Fiore. His expression was polite and professional… until it froze.
"Wait," Alessio blinked. "Lucas?"
Lucas looked up from his phone. "Cousin."
"Cousin?" Bella repeated softly, blinking between them.
Alessio leaned closer to the screen, still stunned. "You mean to tell me the Bella Costanzo in front of me is your wife?"
Lucas moved into the frame fully, resting a hand casually on Bella's chair. "Is that a problem?"
Alessio's lips parted, then curved into a wide grin. "Dio mio, of course not! But if you'd sent a marriage certificate with the portfolio, fratello, I could've skipped this whole interview routine and welcomed my sister-in-law directly!"
Bella's cheeks flushed crimson. "I didn't know he was your cousin," she mumbled, glancing up at Lucas, who looked entirely too pleased.
"That's because my lady here," Lucas said smoothly, "insisted there be no connections involved."
Alessio let out a loud, warm laugh. "Ah, she said no to your influence? I like her already."
Bella groaned softly, covering her face with her hands, but Lucas gently took her wrists and lowered them, his tone teasing. "You'll make her hide from the camera."
"She's already blushing," Alessio teased with a grin. "Alright, Bella — or should I say, sister-in-law — you're hired. No more interviews. If my cousin's wife can manage him, then she's overqualified for any position in my company."
Bella looked up in surprise. "Wait—just like that?"
Alessio winked. "Just like that. Welcome to Aurelia, Mrs. Costanzo."
Her lips parted in disbelief before a soft smile bloomed — part relief, part joy. "Thank you, Mr. Di Fiore."
"Call me Alessio," he said warmly. "And I hope to meet you in person soon — this time not through a screen."
With that, the call ended, leaving Bella staring at the laptop, still processing.
Lucas leaned closer, his hand resting on her shoulder. His voice was a low murmur meant only for her.
"See, cara mia, even fate agrees you belong with me."
Bella turned toward him, eyes wide, but before she could find a reply, he bent and brushed a light kiss against her temple — soft, fleeting, but enough to leave her pulse racing. She pressed a hand to her cheek, trying to compose herself, but the smile that escaped refused to fade.