Chapter 11 Belle
BELLE
Iwake with a start, sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains.
For a moment, I'm disoriented, my head foggy with sleep. Then I remember—Italy. The Council. Luca.
Last night comes rushing back in vivid detail, and I feel heat flood my cheeks.
God, what we did... what I asked him to do...
My body aches in places I didn't know could ache, but it's a good kind of sore.
The kind that reminds you you're alive.
I ease upright, careful not to wake the sleeping beast beside me.
The movement sends a wave of dizziness through my skull, and my hand instinctively presses to my stomach.
There's something... different. Not sick, exactly, but heavy. Foreign.
Like my body's keeping secrets from me.
When was my last period? The question creeps in like cold fingers.
Before Luca, definitely. But how long before?
I count backwards, once, twice, my pulse picking up speed with each calculation.
I count back the weeks, then count again, a cold feeling spreading through my chest.
That can't be right. I'm never late, not like this.
My hand drifts to my lower belly, resting there as the implications sink in.
No.
It couldn't be.
The first time was just a few weeks ago.
But morning sickness can start early, can't it? And I've been so tired, emotional...
The sun feels too bright today, like it's deliberately trying to spotlight the mess I'm in.
I get dressed in the hotel room that feels too hot. Luca's scent still clings to my skin, despite all that soap I used. I don't mind.
Flashes of his mouth, his hands, the way he made me forget my own name. Yeah, I'm all for that.
But my body feels heavy, sore in all the wrong ways, and my stomach's doing somersaults with dread.
Something's off. Way off.
I know it. My body knows it.
I need to know.
Today.
Before I spiral any further into panic.
The problem is, I can't exactly call up WebMD and beg to know for a fact if I'm pregnant.
So yeah. Time for Plan B. Or, well… maybe it's too late for that.
I head to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and try to catch my breath.
"Get it together, Belle. You need a plan."
For heaven's sake. Talking to myself isn't a plan. I need to get out, find a clinic, and get a test. Simple, really.
Except nothing is simple when you're engaged to the Beast of New York and surrounded by his watchdogs in a foreign country.
One of Luca's guys is stationed outside my door, big as a refrigerator and about as chatty. He's supposed to be my shadow while Luca plays mob prince in endless family meetings. Normally, I'd hate the babysitting. Today? I use it.
"Morning," I chirp, the picture of innocence. "Luca's busy, right?"
The guy grunts.
"God, how long do these meetings last?" I whine in boredom.
"All day, sometimes."
"Fuck, really?"
He shrugs.
"Well, I was thinking… Since we're in this gorgeous city… I could go explore. You know, see the sights. Shopping district? Maybe grab a pasta somewhere?"
I flash him my biggest, most pleading smile.
He shuffles on his feet.
"I don't think the boss would want you wandering Rome alone."
"I'm not asking to wander alone," I gush in shock, playing dumb. "Just to see the sights. When in Rome, right?"
I laugh at my own stupid joke, but the guy doesn't crack a smile.
"Let me check with Mr. Moretti," he says, pulling out his phone.
My heart sinks. So much for that plan.
But then, to my surprise, the guy nods into the phone and turns to me once he's all done.
"Boss says you can go, but not alone. Take the chauffeur, Giovanni. He knows the city well and will drive you around."
Okay. That complicates things just a little.
"Perfect. Thank you."
The bodyguard nods. "Boss says be back by four."
"Sure." I smile and wave, already striding off.
"I'm calling Giovanni," he shouts behind me. "He'll be waiting downstairs."
"Uh-huh." I don't bother looking back, wincing as I do. So… making a run for it clearly isn't the option.
Now, all I have to do is slip some wool over Giovanni's eyes. After all, he doesn't sound like the kind of chauffeur to hold my hand through a pregnancy test.
I walk, trying not to think about how I'm a couple of hours away from learning I might be pregnant. God, that thought makes me dizzy.
By the time I see Giovanni, I'm already plotting how to ditch the poor chauffeur before he even opens the car door.
"Where to first, Miss Belle?" he asks as I slip inside.
"I'd like to see the Trevi Fountain, please." I paste on a smile that screams good little girl.
Crowds make it easier to slip away.
Rome rolls by like it's strutting for me. Ruins, glass, scooters playing chicken with cars—everything dipped in that smug morning gold. On a normal day, I'd be swooning.
But today, I'm counting blocks, looking for pharmacies, for clinics, for any sign that might say "medical services."
"First time in Rome?" Giovanni asks.
"Yes," I say, then realize I can use this. "I'm actually feeling a little overwhelmed. There's so much to see, and I'm not feeling great. Maybe we could find a little café? I need to eat something to help with my… cramps. That time of the month, you know?"
Giovanni clears his throat, embarrassed as hell. "Of course, Miss Belle. There is one near the fountain."
Men are so predictable.
The Fountain is exactly as crowded as I'd hoped. Tourists pack the area, taking selfies and tossing coins into the water.
"I'll wait in the car, Miss Belle," Giovanni says and points. "The café is just there."
"Great, thanks. I'll be right back."
I head toward the cafe but veer off as soon as I'm out of Giovanni's line of sight.
The city hums around me, alive and messy. Streets packed with honking scooters, couples holding hands, vendors yelling about fresh fruit. It's almost enough to make me forget the brick of dread in my stomach. Almost.
It takes me three wrong turns and a panicky ten minutes of pretending I'm not lost before I finally find a little clinic that'll do the trick. Plain white walls, a peeling sign, nothing flashy. Exactly what I need.
My palms are damp when I push through the door.
The waiting room feels like fear itself.
A couple of women sit in plastic chairs, flipping through outdated magazines. A nurse at the desk barely looks up when I mumble my name and request.
It's all so… normal. Which somehow makes it worse.
Because nothing about this is normal. Not me. Not my life. Not the fact that I'm in here waiting to find out if I'm about to add mobster's baby mama to my résumé.
I jiggle my foot, biting my lip until it almost bleeds. My brain won't shut up.
Maybe it's stress. Maybe it's jet lag. Maybe it's the fact that you fucked said mobster till past your bedtime.
But it's also been a month since my period showed up. Like… a whole damn month and more.
The pit in my stomach deepens.
"Ms. Belle?"
Yup. That's me. Girl in trouble.
The doctor's kind, older, with eyes that say there's no judgement here.
"Hi, Belle. How can I help you?"
"I need a pregnancy test. Is that possible?"
"We can do a blood test now," she says. "It's the most accurate."
I nod, rolling up my sleeve. "Let's do it."
The needle slides into my vein, and I watch my blood fill the vial, wondering if there's already something different about it. If it's already nurturing a tiny Luca or a mini-me.
God damn it, I'm losing my mind, thinking blood might be cute like that.
The wait drags like torture.
When she calls my name again, I follow on legs that feel borrowed from someone else. The doctor's office is small, sterile, decorated with pamphlets about prenatal vitamins and baby development.
She settles behind her desk with a smile that tells me everything.
"Congratulations, Miss Donovan. You're pregnant. Approximately four weeks along."
The word hits me like a physical blow. Pregnant. There's a baby, Luca's baby, growing inside me right now.
I nod like it's fine, like she just told me the weather.
The room tilts sideways as I think of that first night with Luca. Of course it was. The universe has a sick sense of humor.
"Are you sure?" My voice sounds distant, like it's coming from someone else.
She hands me a paper. "Yes. Very sure. You should see an obstetrician soon."
I take the paper, fold it small, and tuck it into my purse.
"Thank you," I manage to say, though thank you for what, I'm not sure.
For confirming that my life has just gotten exponentially more complicated?
Outside, the Roman sun feels unbearably hot. I lean against a building, trying to breathe.
Pregnant. With Luca Moretti's baby, the very same man who's dragged me to Italy to meet a council of crime lords.
What the hell am I going to do?
I don't know. The answer to this is tougher than any math problem I've solved before.
When I can no longer just stand around doing nothing, I retrace my steps, and find the car again.
"All done. Can we head back?"
He nods and opens the door.
Back in the hotel room, I hide the test results in my makeup bag, burying them under compacts and lip gloss like evidence of a crime.
Then I collapse onto the bed where Luca claimed me so thoroughly just hours ago, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer solutions.
Pregnant with the baby of a man who lied to his own brother about my condition. A man who's already told the world I'm carrying his child when I didn't even know it myself.
The irony would be funny if it weren't so terrifying.
I must have drifted off, because the next thing I know, the door creaks open.
"Belle? You okay?"
I shoot up, heart slamming. He's standing in the doorway, suit jacket off, tie loosened. His eyes lock on mine.
And just like that, every ounce of blood drains from my body. Because if he looks too close, he'll know.
"Yeah. Totally fine," I lie.
My throat's all dry. I fake a smile. But inside?
I'm a girl in trouble, and my secret's ticking louder than a bomb.
"You sure, baby?" His brow furrows. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," I lie straight through my teeth, forcing a smile that makes my cheeks tremble.
Luca's eyes narrow. I need to get my shit together, fast.
"Just tired from all the sightseeing," I add casually. "Rome is... a lot."
Luca nods slowly. "Well, we fly back tomorrow morning."
Thank God. I need to get out of Italy and figure out what the hell I'm going to do about the tiny Moretti currently setting up shop in my uterus.