— “alright, easy there.” Riccardo hummed, your hand firmly in his as he helped you sit down.

you were eight months pregnant but not with his child. you were Nicolò’s lover, but he had seemingly leaving you alone most of time because of his matches. so, Riccardo stepped up.

— “do you need any food or water? a pillow perhaps?” he questioned, now massaging your shoulders. Riccardo always attempted to make you comfortable, even if it wasn’t his responsibility.