Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Lucia
“This might feel a little cool,” the doctor says.
It’s not my first ultrasound, but she always warns me the gel will feel cool. I can hardly believe I’m almost five months pregnant. Today we find out the gender, and the excitement in my chest is almost overwhelming.
The past few days have been the calmest I’ve had in a long time. Tony has come home for dinner every night. We actually talk now, real conversations, no threats, no games. He’s asked about my childhood and the memories I have of my mother. It’s almost like we’re a normal family.
For the first time, Tony came with me to the appointment. As I glance at him now, I see him standing quietly by my side, his attention fixed on the monitor. The doctor moves the ultrasound probe over my belly and asks cheerfully if we’d like to hear the baby’s heartbeat.
For me, it’s not the first time, but for Tony, it is.
When the steady heartbeat fills the room, I turn to look at him. A soft, peaceful smile touches his lips, one I’ve never seen before. His gaze shifts from the monitor to my eyes, and that smile deepens.
He gently takes my hand. His warmth spreads through me. For the first time since that horrible night, the memory fades a little. The deep, enduring affection I’ve always had for Tony rises to the surface again, unbidden and undeniable.
I squeeze his hand and press it to my chest, my eyes returning to the monitor.
“Can we find out the gender?” Tony asks.
“We can, Mr. Bruni, but your little one is being shy today. Legs crossed tight.”
Tony leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead. “There’s no such thing as shyness in the Bruni family. Must’ve got that from you.”
His playful, warm voice melts something inside me. I smile at him, and his lips descend further to press a soft kiss against mine.
“Tony, look—tiny hands and feet!” I say excitedly, turning my attention back to the monitor.
His hand tightens around mine. “I see them, princess. Already showing the Bruni temper with those little fists.”
The doctor chuckles, “Well, it seems your little one has finally decided to cooperate.”
Glancing between us, she asks, “Would you like to know the gender, or should it remain a surprise?”
I look to Tony for his opinion. He shrugs casually. “I’m not a fan of surprises.”
I turn back to the doctor and tell her we’d like to know.
“Congratulations. It’s a girl,” she says with a big smile.
It feels like my heart has bloomed into a thousand flowers. My eyes drop to my growing belly, swelling with love so intense it’s almost as if I’m holding my daughter already.
But right then, worry creeps in. What if Tony’s disappointed that the baby is a girl? The Bruni family is old-school about sons. The thought of my daughter facing the same indifference I got from my father makes my stomach churn.
I lift my head anxiously to gauge Tony’s reaction.
Before I can look at him, he leans down and kisses my belly, where the gel has been wiped clean. The kiss is quick, but it floods me with a sense of calm, erasing every doubt in its wake.
***
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the sonogram photo, but the honk of a car next to us pulls me out of my trance. I glance around, taking in the towering steel and glass buildings of the city, but not even this cold, iron skyline can dull the happiness of today.
Turning to Tony, I let my eyes trace his face—the sharp jaw, dark stubble, thick hair and his perfect body, concealed beneath his impeccable suit.
Memories of the last time he was inside me flood my mind. The image of his lips trailing over every curve of my body. His hands squeezing my breasts, claiming them. A throb pulses between my legs, and my throat tightens with heat.
I reach out, letting my fingers graze the hand resting on his knee. His head turns toward me, his gaze sharp enough to cut. His dark brows knit slightly, and his penetrating stare locks onto mine.
Tilting my head, I rest it against the back of the seat.
This time, he turns fully toward me, leaning in close. His hand slips under my hair, cupping the back of my neck. His lips hover just above mine, close enough that I can see the faint grooves etched across their fullness.
He doesn’t kiss me right away, letting the tension build. I can feel the heat of his body radiating toward me, the space between us charged with need.
Grateful for the privacy of the enclosed cabin, I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer. My lips find his bottom lip, tugging it between mine, and I kiss him. I kiss him like a starved woman, drinking in every ounce of him.
Our mouths meet in a heated, consuming kiss. His free hand slides up my leg, gliding beneath the fabric of my dress, until it reaches my core. A moan escapes me, muffled by his mouth.
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his rough stubble grazing my skin. The intoxicating blend of his scent, cigarettes and whiskey, fills my nostrils, embedding itself into me as if it belongs there.
Desire grips me so fiercely that if it weren’t for this swollen belly between us, I’d climb onto his lap and take him deep inside me without hesitation—something I never imagined craving, yet here I am. Tony strokes my clit, pushing me closer to the edge of insanity.
Just then, the car lurches sharply, throwing Tony off balance. His body falls against mine for a split second before he steadies himself and pulls back, his eyes wide with concern.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” I reassure him softly.
His gaze shifts from worry to fury in an instant. He slides open the small divider window to the driver’s cabin.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Through the gap, I glimpse Rafael gripping a large automatic weapon.
“They’re on us, boss. A lot of them.”
Panic wells up as I glance out the window, spotting a car pacing alongside ours.
A gunshot shatters the tense silence, making me flinch. Tony reacts instantly, gently pushing me down onto the seat so my head rests on his lap. As he strokes my hair, he leans close, his voice a steady whisper.
“Don’t be scared. The car’s bulletproof, and my best men are with us.”
Before I can process his words, another car slams into ours, causing a violent jolt that twists my stomach and rips a scream from my throat.
Tony mutters a curse under his breath, his arm bracing my side to keep me from sliding to the floor. He pulls his pistol from its shoulder holster quickly, scanning the windows for threats.
The driver expertly corrects the car’s course, but another vehicle speeds up alongside us, firing a hail of bullets into the rear door. My eyes squeeze shut in terror, but when no pain comes, I realize Tony was right, the car is bulletproof.
The gunfire continues, deafening and relentless. When I open my eyes again, a lifeless body dangles halfway out of a window, blood pooling below. The car swerves a few more times before the chaos finally subsides.
Tony leans over me, his lips brushing against the curve of my ear as he whispers, “It’s over. Are you okay?”
Terror seizes me so completely that I can’t speak. Tony cups my face, his lips finding mine in a grounding kiss. “You’re safe, Lucia. Our baby is safe. Breathe.”
He grabs a small piece of chocolate from the minibar and gently places it between my lips. The sweetness melts in my mouth, coaxing my senses back to life.
“Are you sure we lost them?” I ask, my voice finally steadying.
“I promise. There’s no danger anymore. Do you need us to go back to the doctor?”
I shake my head. The shock lingers, but I’m Pietro DeLucci’s daughter. I won’t crumble. I attempt to sit up, and Tony wraps an arm around my shoulders, helping me. Once upright, I pull away, wrapping my hands protectively around my belly.
Tony turns his attention to his phone, issuing commands to his men, leaving me alone with my spiraling fears—fears for a child who hasn’t even taken her first breath in this world yet but already has death lurking in every shadow.
***
Dark thoughts grip me, dragging me toward madness. It’s past three in the morning, and Tony still isn’t home. He left right after dropping me off. I’ve been waiting for hours, desperate for answers. I need him to tell me what happened today, who dared to make such a reckless move.
Growing up in the dangerous world of the mafia taught me a lot, but confrontations like this are rare. An attack like today’s, in broad daylight, in front of witnesses, is not something anyone takes lightly. God help us if it’s who I think it is.
Exhausted from pacing, I sink onto the couch and stare at the sleepless city.
The lights never go out, a constant reminder that this city never sleeps.
Yet its towering, lifeless buildings do nothing but amplify my anxiety.
Reaching for the remote on the table, I close the curtains, shutting out the oppressive view.
The drapes are still gliding shut when the door opens, and Tony walks in.
Straightening my posture, I watch him carefully. His eyes are dull and weary, his tailored suit no longer crisp like it was this morning. He pauses when he sees me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod silently, my gaze trailing him as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the back of an armchair. He makes his way to his beloved liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink.
“Why are you still awake?” he asks, not looking at me.
“I was waiting for you,” I say softly.
Glass in hand, he comes to sit beside me, sinking heavily into the couch. He leans back, closing his eyes as he presses the square crystal glass against his temple. I notice fresh cuts on his knuckles, the jagged lines standing out against his skin.
His lips move just enough to form a faint whisper, “Worried about me?”
“Shouldn’t I be?”