Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Lucia
I sit on the edge of the bed, fists clenched in the sheets, my whole body shaking with anger.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt rage like this before, the kind born from humiliation.
The body is supposed to be sacred. Nothing violates a person more deeply than someone forcing their way inside without consent.
My eyes dart to the pregnancy test sitting on the table again, and my grip on the sheets tightens even more.
Being with Tony wasn’t always against my will…
but this baby growing inside me feels like the worst violation of all.
I’m not ready to be a mother. And I can’t run from Carlo, not with everything it would cost.
It’s not just fear for Fabiano anymore. It’s the shame this would bring on Carlo, a man who’s never hurt me. What I’ve done could shatter everything he’s built.
I’m furious at everything and most of all, at my own helplessness.
If I were a free woman, I’d go to the hospital tomorrow and end this pregnancy.
But I’m not free. Even this pregnancy test sitting on the table is from Tony, because I’m a prisoner.
A captive whose every purchase, every daily task, even every word is monitored.
Finally, the clock strikes nine, and Tony enters the room. My hatred for him is so consuming that I can’t even bring myself to meet his eyes. My rage makes me feel twice my size, like a volcano about to erupt. All I want right now is to gouge his eyes out.
He stops in front of me and picks up the test from the table. I’m certain there’s one of his signature triumphant smirks plastered across his face, but I refuse to look at him.
“Don’t think you’ve won,” I grind out through clenched teeth.
He carefully sets the test back down on the table before sitting beside me. The smell of cigarettes clinging to him churns my stomach, but I swallow hard to push back the nausea. This isn’t the time. His voice, as calm and composed as ever, fills the space between us.
“I don’t think I’ve won. This isn’t a game, Lucia. You couldn’t see what was coming. I just saved you from a much worse fate.”
My vision blurs with rage. Every ounce of blood in my body has surged to my head. I whip my face toward him, my voice louder than it’s ever been.
“How dare you justify what you did with such a pathetic excuse? How can you be so vile, so spineless, that you won’t even admit that everything you do is for your own twisted agenda? You used my body without my permission. You put something inside me that I don’t want.”
His lips twitch, curling inward as he holds his silence. He’s clearly angry but I don’t care. Not one bit.
“I’ll get rid of it,” I spit. “No matter what it takes. I will not bring a child into this world as a mark of my shame and Carlo’s failure, just so you can be happy.
I’ll throw myself down twenty flights of stairs if that’s what it takes to purge myself of this fetus, conceived with your evil plans. ”
He draws in a deep breath and tries to use my emotions against me.
“I don’t see it that way. Except for that first night when I was too drunk to even know it was you, I’ve never touched you without you wanting it.
And you know that’s the truth. Every time, you’ve willingly tangled yourself beneath me.
You might be an inexperienced girl, but you’re not dumb enough not to know that a woman who has sex on a regular basis will eventually open the door for one of the swimmers to get through.
Put all that aside, how can you so casually talk about killing your child? A part of yourself?”
I lose it. I leap from the bed like I’ve been shot out of a cannon and plant myself in front of him, screaming in his face.
“It should’ve been my choice whether your sperm ever got near me!
Because I’m the one who has to carry another living being inside me for nine months.
That decision was mine, not yours, do you understand?
And don’t you dare play the saint with me.
We were both born into the mafia, and in this world, spilling blood is second nature to us. ”
Despite my outburst, he remains infuriatingly calm. “The blood of a traitor, yes. The blood of family? No, Lucia. That’s not how it works.”
“If you had the power, you’d kill Carlo this very moment without a second thought. Wouldn’t you?”
At the mention of Carlo, his nostrils flare, and his jaw tightens. His hand, resting on his thigh, clenches into a fist, and for a brief moment, his eyes squeeze shut as though trying to restrain himself.
“Sit,” he says finally, pointing to the bed beside him.
I scoff and step back, determined to put some distance between us.
But before I can move further, his hand shoots out, grabbing mine.
With a sudden pull, he yanks me down so hard my butt slams into the mattress.
The force of it stuns me for a moment, wiping my anger away for a second.
But as soon as I regain my senses, I try to push myself up.
His grip tightens around my wrist and he applies just enough pressure to make me stop, forcing me to sit back down.
He sends me a glare. “Don’t test me, Lucia. Sit.”
I yank my hand free from his iron grip with considerable effort, but I don’t make another move to leave.
“The doctors say that Don Fernando has only a few months left,” he says.
“If Carlo hasn’t yet declared open war on his enemies, it’s solely out of respect for his father.
The moment Don Fernando dies and Carlo officially becomes the new capo, everything will change.
He’ll eliminate Carmen, Giuseppe, and probably even Brando, clearing the path for himself.
And then he’ll come for you to secure his rightful heir.
Have you thought about that? Have you considered what he’ll do to you when he finds out your secret?
I’m saving your life, you idiot. I’m protecting you from unspeakable torture, from pain you can’t even imagine.
What part of this is so terrifying that you keep resisting? ”
“Don’t act like you’re my savior. You’re only doing this to humiliate Carlo.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “I won’t deny it. But so what? Two birds, one stone. As far as you’re concerned, this works in your favor.”
“But staying alive isn’t my biggest worry.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“What if my father takes out the humiliation on Fabiano? He knows I’d die for my brother, and he already despises Fabi because he refuses to join the mafia.”
“I doubt it. Once we’re gone, they’ll have bigger problems to worry about. The smallest misstep on their part will cost them dearly.”
I don’t know Tony well, but I don’t think he’s the lying type.
“Don’t worry about your brother,” he adds. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to him. Now, can you stop overthinking, get your ass moving, and come with me?”
I let out a frustrated breath and stubbornly shake my head. “I can’t do this to Carlo. I can’t drag him through the mud like this. He’s been nothing but good to me.”
Tony tilts his head slightly, his gaze dripping with mockery.
His voice is thick with disdain. “He hasn’t been good to you.
He’s just ignored you. He couldn’t care less if you’re alive or dead.
Just like he didn’t care about his two previous wives, even when Carmen got rid of them.
And you know why he kept quiet? So no one would say his father is a weak capo who can’t even control his own wife. ”
He goes quiet for a moment. “And now, if he’s keeping his hands off you, it’s not because of some noble decency.
He’s replaced you with a thousand mistresses, locked you up in that house, and doesn’t give a fuck that you’re a young woman with needs.
Once he takes care of Carmen, he’ll come for you to produce an heir.
That’s when you’ll see the real Carlo, and trust me, you won’t like it. ”
I can’t process his words. Carmen killed Carlo’s previous wives? So that’s why he warned me to stay away from her? It doesn’t make sense.
“Why would Carmen kill Carlo’s wives?” I ask.
“In her deluded mind, she thought stopping Carlo from having a son would weaken his position. That dumb woman and her brother think they can put Brando on the throne instead of Carlo. But that’s never going to happen.
As much as it pains me to admit, even God himself couldn’t stop Carlo from taking power.
All they’ve done is sign their own death warrants with this stunt. ”
It feels like the final veil has been lifted. Against Tony’s wishes, I find myself respecting Carlo even more.
“So, in a way, Carlo’s distance from me saved my life.”
Frustration radiates off him as he suddenly jumps off the bed. He paces the room, his hand repeatedly dragging through his hair again and again in a visible attempt to rein in his temper. After a few tense minutes, he stops and turns back to face me.
“I’m giving you one week to come to your senses and make your decision.
If you want to take your chances with your precious husband, I won’t stop you.
But I’ll be damned if I let you go with my child still inside you.
Either you come with me, or I’ll bring in a doctor to take care of it.
If this baby dies before it’s born, it’ll be my decision, not Carlo’s. ”
I never thought he’d actually give me a choice. Then again, it might just be another one of his twisted games. He stares at me a moment longer, then strides to the bed, picks up the pregnancy test, slips it into his pocket, and walks out as calmly as he came in.
Neither of us saw what happened next. There was no “next week.” My grandmother didn’t live to see the morning. She passed away peacefully in her sleep from a heart attack.
A week later, I found a note on my desk. Just three words: “Wait for me.”
That was all. No name. No signature. But I knew exactly who it was from—the father of the child growing inside me. Weeks passed without any word from him. Then, out of the blue, he showed up at the estate for my birthday celebration.
And he wasn’t alone. He brought his American girlfriend with him. Emily.