Lissy Romano

119| Always.

Lissy Romano

Sometimes, I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

I have eight older brothers who love me so much. They would do anything for me, and honestly, it feels incredible. I love their attention. I love their care. I love the way they make me feel safe.

After that emotional breakdown in the clinic, where poor Paolo took the brunt of my tears, my brothers have been doing everything they can for me. They treat me like I'm fragile, and, not gonna lie, I love it.

I was sitting on the couch in Vincenzo's office, wrapped in a blanket, sipping hot chocolate. Vincenzo was behind the desk, absorbed in signing some paperwork. I admire him—his dedication, his passion for his work. It's something everyone should learn from.

"Is it still hot?" Giovanni asked, pointing at my cup.

"No, it's just warm. I love it," I replied with a smile.

Giovanni wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I melted into his embrace.

"You know what?" Dante asked, his voice teasing.

I shook my head.

"You're the best gift in our lifetime," he said softly, and my lips curled into a smile.

"He's telling the truth, Lissy," Enzo added, and I felt my cheeks flush.

"You ever have that feeling where you can't believe you're so lucky?" Matteo asked, and I nodded.

"We feel that way because of you," he added, and it made my heart swell.

"I don't understand how we got so lucky to have you as our sister," Santino said, looking at me with admiration.

"I love you all," I said, and they all grinned at me, genuinely.

"We love you," Domenico said, his eyes full of warmth. I could feel their gazes on me.

"So, I'm not a charity case?" I asked awkwardly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

"A what?" Davide asked, confused.

"A charity case. I don't understand why you'd love me so much," I confessed, feeling vulnerable.

"Because you're our little sister," Vincenzo said calmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That doesn't mean you have to love me," I said, feeling silly. They all burst out laughing.

"What else would that mean?" Dante teased, and I bit my lower lip, feeling embarrassed.

"I don't know," I muttered.

"What?" Enzo asked.

"Nothing," I mumbled, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

That night, we spent time in the office, with the boys talking about business and politics—topics I didn't understand and didn't care to. Meanwhile, I kept petting Jax, who had curled up on my lap and fallen asleep. His face was so funny—tongue half hanging out, ears covering his eyes. He was still my playful puppy, even though he wasn't so little anymore.