33. Isabella
thirty-three
Isabella
I expected Salvatore to ghost me like he did before. He disappeared yesterday; however, he did come home late. I could feel the dip of the bed when he lay next to me and his kiss on my neck before he wrapped his hand around my waist.
That didn’t last long, because when I woke up, he was gone.
I tried to call him, but he didn’t answer. I thought I overheard the guards saying that he had a meeting with his underbosses.
And while he is planning how to conquer this war, I have been pacing the empty house that needs furnishing and trying to come up with ideas of how to make this house our home.
Even if I still don’t quite understand his intentions, the things he said yesterday made me more confused. The evidence of last night all over my body, that in some twisted way, I like.
I open my laptop to do some research and look for the things I want to put in the house.
While I’m browsing through the internet, I don’t hear the door behind me open, so when hands wrap around my waist from behind, I startle but immediately relax when I smell Salvatore’s spicy cologne. I relax in his arms as he kisses my neck.
“You didn’t answer my phone calls,” I say.
He buries his head in my neck. “I was busy, and I didn’t know what to say to you.”
“And now you know what to say to me?”
He rests his chin on my shoulder. “No, but I’m willing to discuss things with you.”
“You are?” I’m shocked for a second. “I don’t know what to say to that. Usually, you demand things, not discuss them. Or you give choices that are not actually choices.”
He chuckles. “Well, I’ve learned a few things.”
“Good for you. I know that what you told me impacted your decisions, but maybe it’s not all bad as you think.”
“Maybe.” He stills for a moment. “But that was not the discussion I had in mind. How about we fill this place with some furniture, make it our home so we can look forward?”
I don’t answer; I ask what bothers me. “Did you catch him?” I don’t need to say the name for Salvatore to know who I meant.
“No. He disappeared. However, we have things under control.”
“Where could he go?”
He takes a step from behind me and turns me to him, his eyes piercing mine. “No idea, but as long as he is out there, we need to be careful. You need to be careful and keep Valentino and Santino by your side whenever you are outside.”
I search his eyes that are pleading with me not to argue with him. “I will.”
He traces the back of his fingers across my cheek. His eyes twinkle. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I bite my lower lip, raising a teasing brow. “What question?”
He smirks. “Want to make this place a home so we can move forward?”
I beam at him. “Yes, please.”
“Thank God. Now, let's do some shopping. Because this place echoes every word we say, and I hate to let my men hear you when I make you come.”
I empty my stomach one more time. Were the eggs I ate this morning bad? I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and rinse my mouth.
My face is pale, and I’m sure that If I eat something else, I will get sicker. And I can’t get sick, not tonight.
Tonight is Gabriel’s wedding; it will be held in the Lotus Hotel. One I haven’t entered since we moved out two months ago. I didn’t have a reason to since Salvatore has moved most of his work to our new home.
Because of the security system Marco set in our house, we don’t need his men guarding every inch of this mansion. The side of the house is filled with screens, and that shows how Marco’s genius system is working.
Anything Cosa Nostra related is done here. Sometimes this house is full of men in suits, and sometimes there are just a few of them.
I have also reduced my work hours and sometimes work from home. We each take a part of his office. I was shocked when he moved my stuff from the dining table into his office, that he equipped with one more desk for me.
Our work hours consisted of working, flirting, and fucking. Having a virtual meeting while sucking him off was one thing I didn’t think would be one of my superpowers. Seeing him lose control and keeping a neutral face was the highlight of the day. Paying for it was even better.
But what made it even better is that our relationship is in a better place.
I’m scared of how my heart skips a beat every time he’s around.
I’m scared of the butterflies in my belly.
I’m scared of how I lose myself whenever he touches me.
I’m scared of what-ifs.
And the thing I’m most scared of is that I love him and that he does not feel the same. Because deep down, I know I love him.
I’m scared I’ll end up like my mother.
Dead.
Because that’s where love led her.
Loving men like them is living on borrowed time. Either you get killed by the enemy or by your own husband.
Every day I break his walls inch by inch. Every day I see a glimpse of him and his true colors. His restraint when he sleeps with me, and always looking for approval in my eyes or my words. It makes him vulnerable, but in a good way.
I’m afraid that time will only show where this is going.
I exit the bathroom and sit on my bed; I need a minute to gather myself before the stylist comes. She should be here in less than thirty minutes to get me ready for the wedding.
“Did you gain any weight since the last time we had dress fitting? I swear it was a perfect fit last time,” she mumbles the last part to herself.
“I was under a lot of stress the last few days. I didn’t eat much. I’m not sure I gained any weight.”
“Well, it’s mostly around your breasts. The other parts are the same.” She plays with the straps of my dress. “Unless you’re pregnant.”
“What?” I ask, shocked.
“Never mind. I’m sure you would know if you were.”
She doesn’t say anything else, and I take off the dress so she can adjust it. All I can think about is what she said to me. I try to calculate the dates when I last had my period, but nothing comes. I take the pill regularly, and nothing has changed.
I can’t think about this now. First, the wedding. Tomorrow, I will think of possible pregnancy. Tonight, I need to survive not being killed since I put the father of the bride and some of his men behind bars. I just hope Salvatore is the only one who knows that.
Dress and makeup on, hair perfect, and I’m ready for my first grand event as Salvatore’s wife. As the wife of the don of La Cosa Nostra.
The wedding was perfect. Gabriel and his bride looked incredible together. And for an arranged marriage in a mafia world, it’s weird to see a willing bride. It wasn’t my imagination; it was the looks she was giving Gabriel when he wasn’t looking. Like she was admiring him.
The better part was that no one tried to kill me. Even with glances I got from the men of Camorra, no one dared to do anything. Weapons were forbidden at the event, but that didn’t mean there was no other way for violence.
With the wedding done, nothing is going on, but it feels like the calm before the storm.
Federico has gone MIA since all his associates, at least the ones known about, have been caught in the last few months. And since moving into our new house, we have settled into a pretty mundane routine. One that doesn’t scream here lives a mafia don. If you ignore the soldiers across the property and family members coming in and out of our home.
I work from home a few days a week, and so does Salvatore. The days I go into the office or I’m in the field, I always have someone with me. Salvatore always follows me when I’m in the field, which sometimes pisses me off. Other times, I thrive on it. Especially when he takes his time to show me his favorite places afterwards.
After our first agreement before our wedding when he forced me to choose and I set my conditions, we never discussed how this marriage was going to be. We never talked about having children because who wants to bring children into a marriage that isn’t going to last?
Salvatore has never mentioned what my father said when we were in Italy again. Because he doesn’t want my father’s empire. He wants Federico dead and the attempt for a war over.
That’s why when I stare at the pregnancy test with two pink lines, my heart flutters and a lump forms in my throat. I don’t know what to do next.
The only thing that comes to my mind is I need to make a doctor's appointment. I need to be sure and to find out how long I have been pregnant. It can’t be more than a month since I had my period last month. It could be a false alarm, or maybe something is wrong with my hormones.
I flush the toilet and wash my hands before I make my way back to my desk and call my doctor. Today I’m working from my office in the Hall Media and I want to go directly after work to my OBGYN. Just as I end the call, a tall, lean figure with a grin on his face leans on my desk. I lean back in my chair and return a smile at my friend.
“Mr. Caine, to what do I own this honor?”
His grin spreads even more. “I have a big story for you, but it’s important that it’s only you who knows about it.”
“Why?”
He leans down and lowers his voice. “You are the only one I can trust.”
I raise a skeptical brow. “Trust? When did we reach that point?”
His lips twitch. “I thought us going on two dates before you married was us reaching some level of trust.”
I laugh sarcastically. “There weren’t actual dates. They were beneficial dates.”
“Well, they could have been.”
“Cut to the chase, Ethan. We both know we will never be on that page.”
“True.” He looks around the office before he speaks. “I have a story for you. And if everything goes as planned, you will have a chain of stories.”
“About?”
“It’s not me who will give it to you. For that, you need to come with me.”
“Where?”
“To the person who will give it to you.”
When Ethan said he had a story for me, I never thought the story would be given to me by Weston Caine.
As I leave his office, I still can’t comprehend the reality of what I’ve got in my hand. He practically did my job for me. I just need to write the story. Publish it and broadcast it. That, however, will depend on Mr. Hall, but since I don’t need to hide anymore, I want it under my name.
I go directly to my OBGYN, well aware of Valentino in the driver’s seat. He isn’t fond of driving me here. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t have much of a choice. Either that or I drove in my car, which I haven’t driven much since I married Salvatore. Before we went to Italy and I once again became Isabella Ruggeri, I had some kind of privacy, but since my father made an alliance with Salvatore and my appearance is known, I’m constantly followed by one of Salvatore’s men, or by the man himself.
When Valentino parks in the underground garage, we take the elevator up to the doctor’s office. With Valentino in the waiting room, I get the checkup I need.
I lie on the examination table with my legs up, while the doctor does a transvaginal ultrasound, checking my reproductive organs. They took my vitals and blood earlier, and I can barely concentrate on what the doctor is doing because of the beating of my heart.
“You said you had your period.”
“Yes. Just three weeks ago.” I made sure I checked my tracker.
“Are the periods normal or different from usual?”
I try to think and say something that never crossed my mind before. “Well, the last couple lasted only a day or two and they weren’t heavy. But I was under a lot of stress.”
“Any pain?”
“No, I rarely have any pain.”
She stops measuring and looks at me with a small smile on her face. “You are pregnant. And not just a week or two as you thought. You are already in your second trimester. You are thirteen weeks pregnant.”
I look at her, shocked, not knowing what to say. This was never planned. I’m on the pill, and ever since Italy, Salvatore always used a condom. In Italy, he fucked me on every surface of the boat.
“What about my period? I had it normally.”
“That weren’t periods. It is called hormonal bleeding and usually settles by the thirteenth week of pregnancy. I will need you to check in the next week if you bleed again. If not, we can schedule the usual checkups.” She goes back to taking measurements. “Everything looks normal.” After a few moments, I hear a sound that captures my heart and everything becomes real. “You want to see your baby?”
I nod, the knot in my throat preventing me from talking.
When she shows me black and white images of a small blip, and how its heart is beating, I try to control myself, but my emotions get the better of me. My eyes fill with tears, and I can’t see in front of me. “It is too early to define the sex of the baby. We can do that next time.”
She goes on and tells me the measurements and things I don’t understand because of my emotional state. I get a prescription for supplements and instructions from her to take care of myself as we schedule the next appointment. I also get an ultrasound print that I pack in my bag before I met Valentino in the waiting room.
I need to tell Salvatore. I let Valentino drive me to the hotel, but knowing what he told me, knowing that he wants his name to die with him, I fear his reaction, even if the life inside me gives me strength.
I knock on the door and, not waiting, I turn the knob.
“Not now...” He doesn’t continue when his eyes meet mine, and the frown on his face is replaced with a smile.
“Not even me?” I tease, knowing well enough it was meant for someone else.
“You can interrupt whenever you want. Just what I need.”
With wobbly legs, I make my way toward his desk. I place my hands on his shoulders and lean in for a kiss. He pulls me into his lap, securing his hand firmly around my waist.
“You’re in my office.” He observes me for a second. “I thought you hated this place.”
“I don’t hate it. I just have some unresolved feelings toward it that I need to work through.”
He presses his lips together, hiding his smirk. “Like what?”
“You forcing me to choose between two things I didn’t want.” I push my fingers through his hair. “People working here.” He knows well enough I dislike Ashley for no other reason than his sexual relationship with her.
He places a kiss on my neck. His breath raises goosebumps on my body as he speaks into my skin. “Are you jealous?”
“Maybe.”
His eyes shift to mine, and he gives me a reassuring look. “When I told you we would get married, I told you fidelity is what I want. I will never look at a woman that is not you. Not even if you denied me. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“Is that because of what your father did? Or is it something you believe in?”
“Something I promised myself when I found the truth about my father, as well as other things.”
“I see.” The smile drops from my face because I know the one thing he will hate is having an heir like his father always wanted. But he needs to know. Maybe he will change his mind. Rethink the situation.
I get up from his lap and walk toward the window that overlooks the busy streets.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, unable to take the anticipation anymore.
“You’re what?”
“Pregnant.”
Silence fills the room. Only his ragged breath and the thump of my heart can be heard. I turn to face him. His face is blank. He is detaching himself already. Every step forward we made was erased in a second with just one word.
When he finally looks at me, his face is filled with rage. “Is this a joke? How did that happen? You told me you were on the pill. I made sure you were on the pill, and I made sure to always use a condom.”
“No, you didn’t. And no contraceptive is one hundred percent safe.”
“How sure you are?” he asks.
“Very sure. I was at the doctor’s today and she confirmed it.” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m thirteen weeks along.”
Shock and accusation fill his eyes. “How could you not know that you are pregnant for that long? Did you do it on purpose?” He stands, and in two strides, he walks toward his liquor table, pouring himself a drink.
“Why would I do that?” My eyes fill with tears that I don’t let fall. I pace the room. “I had my period. According to the doctor, it wasn’t a real period, though. I was on the pill, you mostly used condoms. I didn’t think this could be possible.”
He shoots me an accusing look. “Why would you put me in this position?”
I shake my head. I can’t believe he is so in denial. “Put you in what position. It takes two people to make a baby.”
He drinks the rest of his drink, shocking me when he throws the glass at the wall near the door.
“Fuck!” He takes another glass and pours himself a second drink, downing it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. This can’t happen. I can’t be a father.”
“Why are you saying this?” I ask, even if I know why.
He shakes his head and hits the wall behind him with his fist. “Because he doesn’t deserve it. My name is supposed to die with me.”
“Sal.” I try to reason with him. I take a step toward him, but he raises his hand, stopping me.
“Leave. I can’t talk to you right now.” When I hesitate, he repeats, “I said leave. And don’t hesitate to run.”
It’s not what he said but the way he said it that makes my legs move. The coldness and emotionless voice, the rough expression on his face, and the hatred in his eyes.
I do just what he said. I run until I’m in the back seat of the car. I hold it together until I close the door of my bedroom.
It’s here I fall on the floor and break down in tears. It was supposed to be a happy announcement.
This was what I was afraid of.
This was supposed to be happy news. But from his words and the look in his eyes, it wasn’t.
Because he doesn’t want to be a father.
What about us then?
Is this where we part ways?
With every question, I break more and more until the darkness and exhaustion take over.