Gia was holding Stella with one arm and a glass of amber liquid in the other, pressing the rim to my baby's tiny mouth.
"Here you go, sweetheart! Have a little taste of Don Salvatore's private-stock grappa!"
"Got to build up a good palate from a young age!"
Tanner's friends were egging her on, cheering and hollering.
The liquid trickled into my daughter's crying mouth. The harsh liquor burned her instantly—Stella's wails turned to terrified, hoarse screams, her little limbs flailing inside her baptismal gown.
But Gia just laughed, tightening her grip on the baby as she tilted the glass even further.
"What are you doing!?"
I slapped her hand with all my strength.
The glass flew from her grasp, shattering on the stone floor.
I snatched Stella into my arms. She was choking and sputtering against my chest.
"Shh, baby, Mommy's here..."
I patted her back gently. My fingers found a damp, cold patch—Gia had been squeezing her so hard, she'd made the diaper leak.
Tanner rushed in right behind me. He saw me rip our daughter from Gia's arms, sending Gia stumbling to the floor.
His first instinct was to rush to Gia's side. He grabbed her arm, hauling her up as he roared at me:
"Trinity, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell did you attack her?"
He didn't even spare a glance for our daughter, who was sobbing for breath.
I clutched Stella tightly, my gaze like ice.
"Tanner, why don't you ask your friend what she was just doing?"
"Feeding grappa to a three-month-old. You could have killed her!"
Tanner froze. His eyes flickered to the amber puddle on the floor, his expression stiffening.
But Gia was already rubbing her arm, her face a mask of wronged innocence.
"Trinity, come on. When I was teething, my grandpa used to rub whiskey on my gums. It's not a big deal."
"It makes them tougher! I was just giving my little niece a blessing!"
I was shaking with rage. I pulled out my phone. "Hello, Dr. Evans? I need—"
Smack.
The phone was knocked from my hand, clattering to the floor. Tanner stood over me, his chest heaving.
"Are you really calling a doctor for this? On a day like today, you're going to ruin everything for everyone?"
"Okay, she was wrong, but she didn't mean any harm. Do you have to make a federal case out of it?"
I stared at the man I had married, and for the first time, I saw a total stranger.
"Tanner..." My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears.
"You're the heir to the Cianci family. You know perfectly well what hard liquor does to an infant."
"That is your daughter."
"What is going on here?" Tanner's parents pushed through the gawking crowd, their faces grim.
Don Salvatore strode forward, his voice a low rumble of authority. "Turning a perfectly good baptism into a circus. What a disgrace."
I pointed a trembling finger at the shattered glass. "Gia fed grappa to Stella. I need to call a doctor."
"Grappa?" Don Salvatore paused, then let out a dismissive snort.
"For that? When Tanner was a baby, I used to let him lick grappa off my finger. Look at him, he turned out just fine."
Tanner's mother, Donna Lucia, jabbed a finger in my face.
"She's fine! What's the big deal? A little liquor won't kill her!"
"Gia is a good girl. We've watched her grow up. You're the outsider here, so don't you dare point a finger at her!"
I looked at Tanner's silence, at his parents' twisted excuses, and at Gia standing off to the side, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips.
A wave of bone-deep disgust washed over me.
I took a deep breath and turned for the door.
"Where are you going?" Tanner yelled after me.
"The clinic," I said without turning. "And Gia, if anything happens to my daughter, I swear to God I will kill you with my bare hands."
Thank God—Stella had barely swallowed any grappa. Most of it had come out with her cries. But she was still terrified, fussy, and weak.
Ronan lowered his stethoscope, relief washing over his face.
"What happened? Isn't today Stella's baptism?"
When I didn't answer, he didn't push it. He picked up a small, pink-wrapped box from his desk and handed it to me.
"I had an important meeting I couldn't get out of, so I couldn't make the ceremony."
His voice was warm. "This is for Stella."
While I stayed with the baby in the observation room, Tanner texted me: "How is she? My father said you're overreacting, running to the ER for nothing."
I didn't reply. I just turned off my phone.
At one in the morning, I walked into my home with a sleeping Stella in my arms.
A figure was standing in the middle of my living room. It was Gia, and she was wearing my favorite silk nightgown.
She saw me and let out an exaggerated "Oh!"
"You're back! I didn't bring a change of clothes, so Tanner said I could borrow yours. You don't mind, do you?"
