Emily, their little princess

Chapter 3

Luca, the cheeky prankster of the family, had slipped in his bet during a particularly chaotic moment in the waiting room. As the brothers were debating the merits of hospital snacks, Luca seized the opportunity to drop his wager into the mix.

In their lively banter, Luca casually tossed a bill onto the makeshift betting chart and declared, "Midnight surprise, my friends. That baby is gonna make her grand entrance when the world is sleeping, just like a true Russo."

Fast forward to the triumphant moment of Isabella's baby girl's arrival. "Good news, everyone! little princess, Emily, decided to make her debut precisely at midnight on December 30th," the doctor announced with a smile.

The room erupted into a chorus of cheers and laughter. Luca, holding his head high, pointed at himself dramatically. "See? I told you, right on the dot!"

The doctor, amused by the family's lively response, continued, "It seems Luca's prediction was spot on. We have ourselves a midnight baby!"

 Luca couldn't resist a theatrical reveal. He stood up, dramatically cleared his throat, and with a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat, announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, mark this day in history! Our little princess decided to grace us with her presence precisely at midnight, as predicted by yours truly, Luca Ricci Russo."

The room erupted into a mix of applause and laughter, with the brothers begrudgingly conceding Luca's victory. Isabella, still in her hospital bed, couldn't help but roll her eyes at her youngest son's flair for the dramatic. "Midnight, Luca? Really? I should've known better than to underestimate your showmanship."

Luca bowed theatrically, a mischievous glint in his eye. "What can I say, Mama? The Russo flair for the dramatic is genetic."

"Looks like we've got a mini diva in the family! Bet on impeccable timing and won!" Luca proclaimed, doing a bow. " Thank you, thank you for everyone who supported me during this bet," said Luca while wiping his fake tears. 

"Francesco Alberto Russo, care to explain why our sons were betting on our daughter's birth like it's a horse race?" she demanded, her tone cutting through the celebratory atmosphere.

Francesco, caught off guard by the sudden change in mood, stammered, "Well, it was just a bit of fun, amore. You know how they are."

Isabella, not in the mood for excuses, gave him a withering look. "Fun? Betting on when your sister would make her grand entrance? I hope the winnings were worth the scolding they're about to receive."

With a sassy flick of her wrist, she turned her attention to the uncles. "Alright, gentlemen, pony up. Mama needs her winnings."

The uncles exchanged bemused glances before handing over bills, trying to suppress smiles at the unexpected turn of events.

Anya leaned in with a grin. "Isabella, you're turning this hospital room into a high-stakes casino. Bravo!"

Isabella, now holding a handful of bills, turned back to Francesco with a triumphant smirk. "Consider this a lesson, Francesco. Never bet against the master of unpredictability – that's me."

Francesco, chuckling, surrendered, "You win, Isabella. Next time, I'll make sure they consult you before placing their bets."

Angela chimed in, "Luca, you might have a future as a psychic. What's your next prediction, Mystic Luca?"

Luca, reveling in the attention, pretended to ponder dramatically. "I predict... our little princess will have an insatiable appetite for midnight snacks. You better stock up on cookies, Mom."

Isabella shot him a playful glare. "If she inherits anything from you, Luca, I'll be hiding the cookies in a safe." " I will make sure  to lock them away at least an airplane ride away from you." " Don't want you manipulating my baby into doing your dirty deeds by stealing my cookies do we!?"