29. Victoria
29
VICTORIA
Graduation passes in a chaotic and happy blur—and I aced Tafton’s nightmarish Profitability in Food Services exam, thank you very much. Dante managed to bite his tongue rather than torment me with I-told-you-sos.
My husband’s support and endless patience during the final months of my pastry arts degree still seems too good to be believed. And he bent over backwards to make our transition to life in France easier than I ever dreamed. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure this is really my life now.
The bakery I’ve been dreaming of for most of my life is now a reality. The renovations he orchestrated are stunning—a sweet and rustic homeyness balanced with the historic elegance of the Parisian storefront. It's absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe Dante and Ellie managed to keep all of this secret from me, especially since Ellie’s been busy working towards her own degree.
She and I have been tirelessly perfecting our French, since I’m determined to become fluent enough that my customers stop defaulting to English. Dante just snorts a laugh whenever he catches me practicing my accent in the mirror before heading to the bakery.
Every morning is a flurry of bustling activity, especially since our grand opening last weekend. My mind is already churning, trying to find ways to capitalize on our success and keep the momentum going. My notebooks are filled with recipes and new concepts in development, and I plan to post my experiments on our social media pages to keep people coming back for more. The raspberry almond bars I’ve perfected are already a standout bestseller—we’ve run out in the first two hours every day this week.
Apparently, my flavor choices and style clearly mark me as an American, but that hasn’t stopped the locals from stopping by each morning.
Still, I can't help but feel guilty for putting Dante on the back burner while I pour everything I have into my studies and the business. My husband’s patience with my obsession has been bottomless. I can’t seem to talk about anything beyond my plans for the bakery and the ideas I can’t wait to test in our home kitchen.
But Dante is everything I've ever asked for and more. I’ll never be able to repay the man for what he has done for me. Seriously, he even made sure I got to have my best friend with me on this journey, just like we’d always fantasized. I can't help but appreciate how attentive he is to the people and things I care about. He's made every one of my goals a reality, and I'm determined to find the right balance between my time at the bakery and our relationship.
Through the deep bay window of our kitchen, I catch a glimpse of my husband, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as he hammers away at some mystery project in the backyard. I find myself mesmerized, unable to tear my eyes away as Dante remains focused on his task, oblivious to me gawking from the window. I know I’m eye-fucking him, but I’m not ashamed. The man stole my heart and threw away the key—and watching him work only underscores the ever-present allure of his body.
Deciding to take a break from fiddling with my recipes, I scrub the flour from my hands in the sink. I’m just patting my hands dry on a kitchen towel when Dante walks in. The back door shuts behind him with a soft creak as he plucks a water bottle from the fridge.
"What are you working on out there?" I ask, more than a little curious.
"Just a little surprise for the bakery's entrance," he replies.
“A man who kills and builds,” I muse. “My God, how did I get so lucky?” He shakes his head, smirking as he sips from his drink. “Are you coming inside soon?”
“Whenever you want, princess.”
I take a deep breath. Tonight’s the night. I have a secret to share, but I’m still not entirely sure how best to break the news. I can’t put it off any longer though.
I’d been feeling a little off, and not just because I’d been stressing about my exams and our upcoming transatlantic move. On a hunch I took a pregnancy test—actually, I took it right after Tafton’s stupidly long final—and the result was a revelation.
Positive.
I’ve kept it to myself, hiding the used test in the depths of my purse. The constant reminder of what will happen in just a few months has been pricking at my nerves. Not to mention wondering when and how to tell Dante.
The man is already concerned about my workload, nagging that I’m doing too much. What on Earth will he be like when he realizes I’m pregnant with our first child?
If he wants this child.
The whole kid talk was conspicuously brief. A conversation for someday. I think both of us were scared to speak that dream aloud, afraid we’d jinx it, but it’s too late now. This is very, very real.
I took the time I needed to process the news on my own and calm my personal anxieties before I began planning how to tell Dante our family is growing. After all, one of us needed to be calm for that discussion. But with each day that passes, I feel more and more guilty for keeping our baby to myself. I know I won’t be able to hide it forever.
My body will start changing soon, shifting to accommodate the life growing inside me, and my husband will definitely notice then.
I don't want to keep this from him any longer.
It's time to let him in on what the next chapter of our lives together will hold. Just thinking about telling him fills me with excitement and nervous energy.
If I thought he watched me like a hawk now… Well, I have a feeling I haven’t seen anything yet.
“Do you mind if we talk about something?” I blurt, resting my palm on the countertop. “It’s…Um, it’s important.”
Dante lowers his water bottle from his mouth, his lips twisting in a puzzled frown. “Okay…”
I blow out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want you to freak out, okay? Everything is going to be fine.”
My husband’s expression turns suspicious. “Right.” He draws out the word, and storm clouds gather in his eyes. Shit, I’m really doing a hell of a job telling this man he’s going to be a father.
“I, um…well, we…” This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I’m about to change this man’s whole life and I can’t think of way to do it with any semblance of grace or class.
“What did we do?” Dante presses, voice calm as he screws the cap back onto his water bottle.
“Well, it’s not like that . I mean, it is, but?—”
“As much as I love seeing you frazzled, princess, why don’t you just spell it out for me so we can figure this out together?”
Figure it out together, yes, that’s exactly what we need to do. I finally relax, and I feel my mouth curve in a true smile.
“I’m pregnant.”
The water bottle hits the floor with a wet slap and my husband is on the move, erasing the distance between us in a blink. Suddenly I’m floating through the air, his hands on my hips, until my ass is plopped right on the kitchen counter.
“You’re pregnant?” He wedges his body between my thighs, pinning me in place with his large hands spread just above my knees.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Uhh… I’m not sure which time?—”
“No, how long have you known ?”
Oh. That.
I shift uncomfortably, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. "Um, about two weeks.”
Dante's gaze is intense, unwavering as if he's trying to see right into my soul. He's always been possessive and intense, but this is different. This is more.
"Two weeks," he repeats, his tone neutral. "And you didn't tell me." His words are a flat statement of fact, nothing close to a question.
His fingers tap gently on my legs, a rhythmic pattern that ratchets up my anxiety. I take a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. "I just needed time to process. I wanted to be sure before I said anything."
He remains disturbingly calm, his composure unwavering. "Sure about what, exactly?"
I swallow hard, realizing the ground has shifted under our feet. Again. Nothing about our life has been straightforward or easy. "About being pregnant. I wanted to wrap my head around what it meant before bringing it up."
Dante's expression gives away nothing. His eyes, usually so open to me, are unreadable. "And what does it mean? How do you feel about it?"
His questions seem to hang in the air. "I... I'm nervous, but also excited. It's just, I didn't know how you'd react."
“You thought I’d leave you—” His voice is dark, a dull roar that shakes me to my bones.
“ No ,” I blurt out instantly. “Of course not. Besides, I’d never let you.”
Dante lifts a brow. “What could a princess like you do to make me stay?”
My eyes narrow into harsh slits. “Husband, if you have to ask me that question, you really are in denial about this marriage.”
His lips quirk at the corners. “This is a big deal.”
“It is.”
“And you know what this means, right?”
My nose wrinkles. “Dante, please don’t worry so much. I promise I’m not going to overdo it.”
“You mean like you are now?”
“I am not,” I argue. “This is nothing. I’ve even been holding back a bit.”
“Bullshit. You whisper your to-do list to yourself every night after you think I’ve gone to sleep. It’s a game of mine, clocking how long until you knock yourself out each evening.”
Shit.
“I’ll take it easy.”
“We’ll hire more help.” I open my mouth, but before I can tell him we don’t need additional staff, he’s already rolling right over my words. “No more carrying heavy-ass shit. And I’ll be damned if my wife runs around like a chicken with her head cut off, determined to do everything herself, while she’s carrying my child.”
“Okay, one person, but?—”
“Four people,” he retorts. “Because we will have our child to care for and neither of us will have as much time or energy to give to the bakery.”
“It’s my business, Dante. My dream. It’s still so new.”
“And my dream is to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or our baby.” His eyes soften, and I can feel the love he has for me. “After all, the baby will be new too.”
His clear affection is a relief, but Dante is a complex puzzle, and I'm not sure where all the pieces fit in this moment. I can only hope that his calm exterior is hiding the same eager excitement that I feel inside.
“Fine,” I concede through clenched teeth. “Anything else?”
“Oh, I can think of a lot else for us to review, princess.”
“No, I mean what do you think about the baby?”
“What about the baby?”
I pin him with an unamused expression. “I’ve been here, holding this secret for two weeks , and you still haven’t told me how you feel about any of this. About me being pregnant.”
“Was I supposed to jump up and down?” The smart ass does one little bunny hop. “Wife, you are out of your mind if you think I am anything but fucking thrilled that we’re pregnant. The child you’re carrying is one more bond tying you to me for the rest of your life.”
“We never really talked about kids after I told you I wasn’t going to get knocked up just to pay Lombardi.”
“I remember asking about them after that shit with Angelo.”
“But that was during sex.”
“So?”
This man.
“You’re going to be a father, Dante. You take care of me. You use all your energy to make me happy. You’ve done all of this for me and now we’re adding another human being to the mix. Another person you’ll want to care for and protect.”
“I can multitask, princess. I’m very good at it.” He slips one hand underneath my shorts and brushes his finger along the curve of my hip, where my leg meets my pussy. “You seem to be worried.”
“I’m nervous.”
“You’ll be an amazing mother.”
“I just don’t… I don’t want to become my mother.” I never said goodbye to her before Dante and I left the States. She’s called a few times, but I blocked her number.
I decided to leave behind anything that didn’t bring me peace or joy. My mother is a tyrant and I refuse to let her sink her claws into me again—or into my future child.
My father and I have kept in touch though. It wasn’t easy, but we’ve found a way to communicate without involving my mother. I only wish we’d figured out a way to do so earlier. It’s been touch and go, and I don’t think I’ll ever be a daddy’s girl—he left me alone with his she-devil of a wife for years, after all—but we’re slowly building a loving relationship.
If it wasn’t for Dante, I wouldn’t be here at all. I’d be murdered or chained up in some slimeball’s basement, not sitting in front of the man who gave me the world on a platter.
“You’re sitting on a kitchen counter, legs spread for me,” Dante replies simply. “I highly doubt your mother has ever done anything like this.”
“I’m her daughter. Don’t all women turn into their mothers at some point?”
“You are not going to become your mother, Victoria. You’re you. When I see you wearing a two-piece suit with a starched skirt, then I’ll worry.”
A chuckle escapes my throat. “Shit, just shoot me.”
“And spend the rest of my life unable to fuck my gorgeous wife? Hard pass.”
I smile, relieved and more than a little horny. “Sounds good.”
“Then it’s settled,” he mutters, finally leaning in to steal a soft kiss. “And, yes, I am excited for the baby. I knew I’d knock you up eventually.”
I rear back at that, more than a little shocked by his comment. “Wait, you wanted to get me pregnant?”
“Of course. I knew you wanted kids, even before you were ready to admit it to yourself.”
“How?”
Dante ignores my question, cupping my face between his hands and forcing me to look him in the eye. “I love you, princess. I’m stoked that you’re pregnant.”
“Stoked, huh?”
“Do I need to show you?”
Biting down on my lower lip, I eagerly bob my head. Dante scoops me off the kitchen counter and I wrap my legs around his waist while he carries me to our bedroom. I happily lose myself in the memories of how far Dante and I have come. From sheltered student and brooding professor to an arranged marriage between a black knight and a runaway princess.
Neither of us could have ever guessed we’d end up here, living the most extraordinary life.
Dante, with his strong presence and unwavering determination, has been my rock. He not only saved me from the twisted plans my mother and his nephew cooked up, he’s protected me from the violence of his family’s past. I have always felt safe in his arms. His love has been my anchor, and no one has ever made me feel as valued, as seen, as he has.
His commitment and his sacrifices, his belief in my ability to accomplish anything, has turned our messy story into a beautiful masterpiece.
Dante put his whole life on pause to give me a chance at my own dreams, and now he’s given me an even greater gift—the promise of a family filled with the love I never had.
Each day we spend together only deepens our bond, building upon the foundation of the commitments we made when we had no other choice. But we’ve found our way to choosing each other. I'm blessed to have a husband who not only knows how to make me scream with pleasure, but has become my unwavering confidant, my partner, and now, the father of our child.
Soon, our home will echo with the laughter of our child. A child that will see the love between their parents and know they too are loved absolutely.
I would do anything for the man that has given me everything.
No questions asked.
Our eyes meet, and there's a shared understanding that transcends the need for words. We've just begun the rest of our lives in Paris, an adventure that fills my heart to bursting.
He smiles, happiness dancing in his eyes.
He’s my husband.
The love of my life.
Dante Moretti.