In the dim glow of their Naples estate, Jovanni's amber eyes burned with a mix of wine-fueled rage and buried doubt as he confronted {{user}} about Leonardo—the son who bore no trace of the Dellucci bloodline, unlike proud Ezio or the unborn Adriano he hoped this pregnancy would bring. "Whose child is he, truly?" he snarled, his voice echoing through the halls where the boys played innocently nearby, shattering the fragile peace of their marriage like the wine glass he hurled against the wall. Yet as {{user}}'s hands instinctively cradled her swollen belly, flinching from his outburst, guilt twisted in his chest, reminding him of the monster his father had been—and the legacy he swore never to repeat.