Chapter 19 Giuliana #2
I don’t know. I genuinely don’t know, and that scares me more than anything. I take a deep breath and rip open the blue plastic packaging to reveal the test and folded instructions. I snatch up the instructions and quickly read them, eyes darting over the page, half-reading it.
Once I’m done, I take a deep shuddering breath and pick up the test. “Here goes nothing,” I say to myself and head to the bathroom.
The test takes three minutes. I watch the timer on my phone count down with agonizing slowness, my entire body tense with anticipation and dread.
When the second line appears—faint but unmistakable—the world seems to stop spinning.
Positive.
I’m pregnant.
I sink onto the edge of the bathtub, the test clutched in my shaking hand, and a sob tears out of my throat before I can stop it.
A baby. There’s a baby growing inside me. Luca’s baby. A tiny person who will be part of both of us, who will carry our DNA and our hopes and our fears into a future I can barely imagine.
Terror and joy war in my chest, each emotion so intense I can barely breathe through it.
Terror because, God, terror because a baby changes everything. It makes escape truly impossible if I ever needed it. It gives Luca the ultimate leverage over me for the rest of my life. It binds me to this world of violence and crime in ways I can never fully extricate myself from.
A thought crosses my mind that makes my stomach lurch unpleasantly and I press a hand to my stomach, choking back bile.
What if he doesn’t want it? What if he sees this pregnancy as a complication instead of a gift?
What if the man I’ve fallen for decides that an heir is more trouble than it’s worth, or worse decides to use our child to ensure my complete compliance?
I could be sick at the thought.
But underneath the terror is something else. Something that feels suspiciously like hope.
Because a baby would also be mine. Completely, irrevocably mine in ways nothing else has been since Luca destroyed my clinic. A love that could never be taken away from me, a future I could build even now.
And maybe…maybe this could be the thing that finally makes everything real between us. That proves that there truly is love between us.
Maybe a child could be what saves us both.
The hope is fragile, but it’s intense. I clutch the positive test and let myself imagine it for just a moment.
Luca’s hand on my growing belly, his face softening with wonder as he feels the baby move.
Luca teaching our child to be better than both of us, to take the best parts of our natures and leave the worst behind.
Creating good from the wreckage of how we started.
Is it possible? Could we actually do that?
I don’t know. But sitting here in this bathroom with tears streaming down my face and a positive pregnancy test in my hand, I desperately want to believe it could be.
The question is whether Luca will want it too.
I think about how he’s been with me lately—the gentleness, the tenderness, the way he holds me. The promises about the clinic and my future. The way he finally told me my father is recovering, that I’ll get to see him soon.
He’s trying. Really trying to be better than the monster who first took me.
But is that enough? Is trying enough to guarantee he’ll see this pregnancy as a blessing instead of a burden?
I don’t have answers. Just fear and hope tangled so tightly I can’t separate them.
Taking a deep breath, I tuck the test into the front pocket of my jeans and arrange for my sweatshirt to cover it. I then wash my face, trying to erase the evidence of tears, and try to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
First, I need to hide this test. The perfect spot comes to mind. My jewelry box. I can tuck it under necklaces and bracelets where no one will accidentally find it. Luca never goes in there as he trusts me to pick out pieces myself.
With that, I quietly open the doors and peek my head around to make sure no one’s coming.
It would be weird to see me in my old rooms, and I don’t actually have a convincing explanation as to why I would be here.
Seeing no one, I scurry away and make it to mine and Luca’s room in record time.
I breathe a sigh of relief once I shut the doors and hurry to the jewelry box.
Lifting the test up, I stare at it again, seeing the second pink line. For a brief moment, I cradle the test, imagining it to be my baby. I close my eyes and imagine the softness of an infant, the sweet baby smell of their shampoo and their soft coos.
But then I remember where I am and that I have a pregnancy test in my hands, and I quickly arrange the test in the jewelry box so it’s not visible. Snapping the lid shut, I back away like it’s a brand and take a deep breath, steadying myself.
I need to tell him. Obviously, I need to tell him.
This isn’t something I can hide for long.
Even if I could, I don’t want to. Despite all the fear and uncertainty, some part of me wants to share this with him.
I want to see his reaction, to find out once and for all if the man I love is capable of loving me back.
But when? How? Do I just blurt it out over dinner? Wait for a quiet moment and hope his reaction isn’t devastating? What if he—
A knock on the door makes me jump, my heart leaping into my throat.
“Gigi?” Luca’s voice, concerned. “Are you in there? Danny saw you hurrying to our room. I wanted to check on you.”
Fuck. Where the hell did Danny see me? I really hope he didn’t catch me coming from my old rooms. But he would have said something to Luca about that, right?
I freeze, staring at the door like it might bite me. He’s here. Right now. And I’m completely unprepared for this conversation.
“I’m fine!” My voice comes out too bright, too high and I screw my eyes shut in frustration. Goddammit, he’s going to pick up on it. “Just—just checking on something. I’ll be out in a minute.”
A pause. “Can I come in?”
No. Fuck no. Absolutely not. I need more time and space to process this before I have to face him—
“Sure,” I hear myself say, because what else can I do? Lock him out of his own room? That would raise more questions than it answers.
The door opens, and Luca steps inside. He’s still in the dress shirt and slacks from breakfast, sleeves rolled up to reveal those forearms that make my stomach flip despite everything. His dark eyes scan the room before landing on me with laser focus.
“What’s wrong?” It’s not a question, really. More like a demand for truth. “And don’t tell me nothing. I know you, Gigi. I know when something’s bothering you.”
The certainty in his voice makes my stomach flip flop. Because he does know me. Somehow, in these past weeks, he’s learned to read me better than people I’ve known for years.
“I’m just—” I stop, trying to figure out how to articulate this without blurting out the truth before I’m ready. “Thinking about my father. About when I’ll get to see him.”
It’s not entirely a lie. I have been thinking about Dad. How will this pregnancy affect him? How will he feel knowing that his daughter is having a baby with the man who took him captive?
Luca moves closer, his expression softening with something that looks like guilt. “Soon. I promise, Gigi. I’m working on arranging it.”
“But when is soon?” The question comes out more desperate than I intended. “Days? Weeks? Months? I need—” My voice breaks. “I need to know he’s really okay. I need to see him with my own eyes.”
Because if I’m pregnant, I need my father. I need the only parent I have left, even if he’s deeply flawed and made terrible choices. I need him to tell me I’m not crazy for falling in love with my captor, for seeing hope in a situation that should only inspire fear.
“Hey.” Luca’s hands frame my face, smoothing my cheek bones with the pads of his thumbs.
His eyes are soft as they search my face.
“I know. I know you need that, and I’m working on it.
Your father is safe and recovering. I’ve given specific orders about his care.
But he’s been through trauma, Gigi. The guilt over what happened to Marco—” He stops.
“I want to make sure he’s in a good place mentally before you see him.
I don’t want to put you through seeing him at his worst.”
The explanation makes sense and it’s thoughtful, in a twisted way. But it doesn’t ease the ache in my chest or the desperate need to see Dad and know he’s really alive.
“Okay,” I whisper, because what else can I say? “Okay. Thank you for—for caring about that.”
“I care about you,” Luca says quietly. “Which means I care about the things that matter to you.”
The words should be romantic and make me melt against him with relief and joy.
Instead, they just make the secret sitting in my jewelry box feel heavier.
Because if he really cares about me, then how will he react to finding out I’m pregnant?
Will it be another thing he cares about, or will it be the complication that finally makes him remember I was supposed to be his revenge?
“What’s really wrong?” Luca asks, his thumb tracing my lips. “Talk to me, Gigi. Please.”
I almost tell him. The words are right there, sitting on my tongue. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.
But fear locks them in my throat. Because I don’t know. I really don’t know how he’ll react, and the uncertainty terrifies me more than anything else has in this entire nightmare.
“I’m just tired,” I hear myself lie. “And worried about Dad. And—” I force a smile. “And probably coming down with something. I’ll be fine.”
He studies my face for a long moment, clearly not believing me but also not pushing harder. “Alright,” he sighs, dropping one hand to my shoulders, the other still cradling my face. “But if you need anything—”
“I’ll tell you,” I interrupt. “I promise.”
Another lie. Another secret added to the growing pile between us.
He gently kisses my forehead, lingering slightly. “I need to get back to meetings,” he says, pulling me close for a hug. “But I’ll check on you later, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, trying my best to not cling to him. If only I could make this moment last for forever. Instead, I let him release me. I watch him leave, and the moment the door closes I sink back onto the bed, my hands shaking.
I’m pregnant with Luca Marchetti’s baby, and I have no idea if that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me or the worst.