Page 48 of Psycho Saints

Cristian's eyes found mine, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "It's time to focus on life and the living, kitten. I'm not dead, why stress?"

His cavalier attitude both infuriated and amazed me. Here he was, lying in a hospital bed with tubes and wires attached to him, and he was more concerned about house hunting than his own recovery.

"You were shot," I reminded him, my voice trembling slightly. "You almost died protecting me."

Cristian reached out, his hand finding mine. Despite my frustration, I couldn't help but lace my fingers through his. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. But I'm here, alive and kicking. We've got a future to plan for now."

I looked around at the three brothers, their faces a mix of determination and excitement. It hit me then – this was their way of coping, of moving forward. They'd stared death in the face and come out the other side. Now, they were clinging to life with both hands, making plans, forging ahead.

"A house," I repeated, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "With a baby room."

Julian squeezed my shoulder gently. "It's a lot to take in, we know. But we're in this together, Scarlet. All of us."

Tyrone nodded, his usually stern face softening. "You're family now. Both of you." His eyes dropped to my still-flat stomach, and I felt a rush of warmth despite myself.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. This wasn't how I'd imagined starting a family, surrounded by ruthless men in a hospital room. But then again, nothing about my life had been conventional since the day I met the Silvestri brothers.

"Okay," I said finally, surprising even myself. "Let's talk about this new house."

Cristian's face lit up, and I couldn't help but smile back. As crazy as it all was, I realized I wouldn't have it any other way.

"And my answer's yes, too," I added, smiling gently.

Cristian frowned for a second before it dawned on him. He lurched forward, ignoring his own injury as he pulled me in for a kiss and hugged me tight.

"You won't regret it, my love. The future Mrs. Silvestri," he breathed into my ear. "My queen."

"Damn, so we planning a wedding too?" Julian mused, and I scoffed.

"One thing at a time," I said as Cristian winced and laid back down against his pillows.

"Yeah, if we do the wedding, it'd have to be soon, or we wait until after the baby is born, let her have her body back to normal," Tyrone said thoughtfully, being mindful of how my body would change.

"You know we've only really known one another a little over a month, right?" I pointed out.

"And? Some cultures, people get married after three dates. Hell, some of the families arrange them. People meet for the first time on their wedding day," Cristian said with a shrug, which he regretted instantly as he grimaced.

"Sometimes you just know," Julian said softly.

"Really? Did you think that when I hit you over the head with the hairdryer?" I joked.

"I knew you were going to be a pain in my ass, one way or another," he retorted, but he stepped up beside me to sling his arm around my shoulders.

"Our life is a risky one, fast-paced and quick at times. This is just another part, and we're set on you, Scarlet," Tyrone assured me.

"You better be, especially if I'm carrying a little Silvestri," I added as I touched my stomach.

"Wonder if we'll be having a little prince or princess?" Cristian mused.

"Putting the cart before the horse, aren't we?" Julian smirked before kissing my temple.

"Rest, Cristian. You need to heal if you're going to be a father and take on that role. I believe we'll all think of ourselves as their father, whether or not we're actually the biological. That can be something we figure out at a later date," Tyrone said as he rested one big hand on Cristian's blanketed leg. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Yeah, I'm glad it wasn't too long. Wasn't too keen on another coma for months on end," Julian said with a heavy sigh. "The weightloss alone is frustrating as shit."

The air was thick with things unsaid, and I knew there were plenty of other things that had affected him after his last coma. He was likely just grateful he was still himself, and he'd not lost anyone close to him.

"You know what I'd kill for right?" he said, and I arched a brow. "Some brownies, that'd be epic."