Chapter 22 Gabriella
GAbrIELLA
It’s unsettling to think there might be a target on my back, but that’s not what has me pacing my bedroom floor this morning.
In fact, in the three days since my meeting with Blackwood, I’ve barely thought about it, even knowing someone in the Vitale family saw me.
No, my worry is about something very different.
I check the calendar on my phone for the umpteenth time.
I count the days.
No matter how many times I recalculate, the answer remains the same…
I'm late.
I might be pregnant with Marco Calabresi's child.
I'm facing the very scenario that sent him into a panic in the sauna. The one thing he's made abundantly clear he never wants.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, pressing my fingers against my temples. What if I am pregnant?
Marco's reaction in the sauna plays on repeat in my mind.
His horror, his immediate rejection of the possibility.
The man who blatantly breaks the law and kills without hesitation was terrified by the mere thought of fatherhood.
I have no choice but to take a test, but I can't exactly waltz into a pharmacy myself.
I can hardly walk through the house without a guard shadowing me.
There’s no way I could go out without an army.
Think, Gabriella. Who can I ask to help me that won’t gossip?
Elena is the first who comes to mind.
She’d understand the need for discretion, right?
After all, she navigated an unplanned pregnancy. She’d know how to help.
I grab my phone and dial Elena’s number.
“Gabriella,” she says brightly.
"Elena, I need a favor," I say, cutting to the chase.
“Uh… okay.” Her tone changes to match mine. “Is something wrong?”
God, how do I ask her to get me a pregnancy test?
She’ll have to guess that Marco is the father, and then she’ll tell Dominic who’ll then tell Marco, whose head will explode.
“Gabriella?”
I take a deep breath. "I need a pregnancy test. And I need it without anyone knowing."
Silence stretches between us. "Okay. I guess sooner rather than later?"
“Yes, please. I’m sorry to ask but—”
“No, I get it. Oh, boy, do I get it. I was planning on last-minute Christmas shopping so I have a babysitter coming shortly to watch the kids. I can be there in… an hour or so?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course. God, Marco is going to kill whoever thought he had the right to touch the daughter of a Don under his roof.”
It takes me a moment to realize she thinks the father works for Marco.
I suppose Marco’s reputation for avoiding relationships will work in my favor.
“I just hope he stands by you knowing Marco will be unhappy,” she finishes.
"I'm not thinking that far ahead yet. I just need to know for sure."
When Elena finally arrives, carrying shopping bags that provide perfect cover, I lead her to the small sitting room off the library.
It’s rarely used by anyone, making it a good place to meet in private.
"No one will disturb us here," I say, closing the door softly behind us.
Elena pulls out a rectangular box from one of the bags. "I got the expensive digital one. No squinting at faint lines."
I take it, my hand shaking slightly. "Thank you. I…” God, this is surreal.
“You can handle this, Gab.” She squeezes my arm. "Do you want to take it now?"
I shake my head. "Tonight, when I'm alone. I need time to process whatever it says."
Elena nods, understanding in her eyes. "Okay. I’m here for you, no matter what.”
"How did you do it?" I ask, sinking onto a loveseat. "When you found out about the triplets? Were you terrified?"
She laughs softly. "Terrified doesn't begin to cover it. I threw up for a week before I told anyone, and not from morning sickness." She sits next to me.
"But you managed. You're an amazing mother."
"I had support. You know my dad had just gone to prison, but Dom was great. Took me in. Helped me get what I needed. My situation was complicated, but not impossible."
I swallow hard. "Mine feels impossible."
“The father doesn’t want this?”
I nearly laugh. “No.”
Elena's eyes soften. "Men say a lot of things until they're faced with reality. Sometimes they surprise you."
"Not this one.” If there’s one thing I know for sure, Marco isn’t going to change his stance on having a family.
"Then you have some decisions to make, but whatever you decide, you won't face it alone. I promise you that." She squeezes my arm, and it’s reassuring.
“Is that what happened to you? The father didn’t want children?”
Elena shifts, her expression guarded. "He didn’t want me. He betrayed me, so… he doesn’t know.”
Oh. In some ways, her confession makes me feel better because I know that the best thing for me to do would be to not tell Marco.
What would be the point?
He doesn’t want a family or kids. He’d just be tormented.
Sure, one could argue he has a responsibility, but I don’t need his money.
And I’m not interested in dealing with his reaction or coparenting with a man who resents me and his kid.
"The hardest part was the fear," Elena continues. "Not just of being a mother, but wondering how to do it alone, especially when I learned I was having triplets.” She lets out a laugh. “Oh, my God, that day was the hardest.”
That was six years ago. I’d been in law school so while I was aware of Elena’s situation, I wasn’t around. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t be. I was excited to see you going off, doing things women in our world aren’t allowed to do.”
I nod, knowing my father indulged me in ways other Dons wouldn’t have.
It makes me wonder about the baby and whether it’s a girl.
I want her to have all the freedoms and advantages possible, which would be difficult if Marco is revealed as the father.
“Is it hard for the kids, not knowing their father?”
Elena's eyes widen slightly. "Is that what you're considering?"
"I'm considering everything, including disappearing for a while."
Elena is quiet for a long moment. "Sometimes, I feel bad that my kids don’t have a father, but Dom does a lot for them, so they have a father-figure.
I know the kids will have questions and at this point, I can’t give them answers.
” She turns her gaze away from me, and I get the sense she feels guilty or ashamed.
This time, I take her hand and squeeze. “I’m sure you’ve made the best decision you can.”
She gives me a wan smile. “What will you do?”
“I’ll go to Italy. Stay with Luca. He’ll help me, protect me.” At least I hope he will. The only issue will be whether he finally decides to return to New York. In that case, I’ll find somewhere else to go.
Something flickers across Elena's face and her eyes dart away from mine again. “Luca. Yes, I suppose he’ll help you.”
"You don't think so?" I ask, suddenly uncertain and wondering why she’d question him.
She waves her hands. "It's not that. Luca would protect you with his life. You're his sister.” There’s something personal going on here, and I’m wondering what Elena might know about my brother that I don’t.
They’ve known each other most of their lives, just like I’ve known her and La Corona family members all my life. But it’s not like they’re friends.
In fact, my sense is that she doesn’t much like Luca.
"I can stay with you tonight," she offers. "When you take the test. You shouldn't be alone for that."
I consider her offer, grateful yet uncertain. "I think I need to do this part alone. But thank you."
The truth is, I'm not ready to know whether I’m pregnant or not.
I’m not ready to face the outcome.
These past weeks with Marco have reawakened feelings I thought had died last year.
Despite his walls, his refusal to commit, I've glimpsed moments of tenderness that make me wonder what could be.
In my most secret thoughts, I imagine telling Marco about the baby and watching his face transform not with horror, but with wonder.
I picture his strong hands cradling our child, his stern features softening as tiny fingers grip his finger.
I dream of Christmas mornings filled with laughter and joy.
It's a fantasy. Marco has made his position clear. He doesn't want children. He doesn't want me beyond this moment.
As Elena gathers her things to leave, I wonder if maybe Elena is right and that men think they know what they want until faced with something different.
Could Marco embrace a future he determined he wanted to avoid when faced with reality?
Later that evening, I decide I’m putting off the inevitable by not taking the test.
Who knows, maybe it will come back negative and I’ve been worried sick all day for nothing.
Or maybe it will come back pregnant, in which case I need to make plans.
Marco is out working tonight with Roman, so I can take the test and not worry about being caught.
I go into the ensuite bathroom with the pregnancy test.
Following the instructions carefully, I take the test, then set it on the counter.
Five minutes.
Five minutes that will determine the rest of my life.
I can't bear to watch the little digital window, counting each second as it passes.
Instead, I turn on the shower, letting steam fill the bathroom.
The hot, pelting water might help clear my head, help ease my tension as I prepare for whatever answer awaits.
Under the shower's spray, I close my eyes and let the water cascade over my face.
I think of my father, of how he might react to a grandchild born out of wedlock, Marco Calabresi's child, no less.
I think of Marco, his face contorted with panic at the mere possibility.
It’s clear that I need to hide the child’s paternity if I am indeed pregnant.
"What the fuck is this?" Marco’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
I flinch and turn, opening my eyes to find him standing there holding the pregnancy test.
He steps closer, eyes blazing, jaw clenched, not caring that his clothes are getting wet. "You lied to me. You told me you were on birth control when you weren't?"
I turn off the shower, water dripping down my body as I reach for a towel. "I didn't—"
He holds up the test, the digital window facing him. "Was this your plan all along? Trap me with a baby I never wanted?"
I wrap the towel around myself, anger replacing my initial shock. "I didn't plan anything! I haven't even looked at the result yet, so I don't know—"
"It's positive," he cuts in, his voice like ice. "Congratulations, Gabriella. You got what you wanted."