Chapter 23 Marco
MARCO
I’m facing my worst nightmare.
When I’d entered the bedroom and heard the shower running, all I could think about was Gabriella’s naked, wet body and needing to drown myself in it.
I walked into the bathroom ready to join her in the shower, to get lost in her body after a long night.
The item on the vanity stopped me. It took me a moment to realize what it was. A pregnancy test.
My blood turned to ice water. I picked up the test, staring at the little window.
PREGNANT
I stare at her now, wrapped only in a towel, her eyes a mixture of worry and anger.
"You lied to me," I say again. "You looked me in the eyes and said there was nothing to worry about."
She pushes past me, gathering up her clothes. “I didn’t lie. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
What the fuck? “This test says otherwise.”
The rage building inside me isn't just toward her, it’s toward myself for letting my guard down.
For believing I could have something good without consequences.
My father's voice echoes in my head. You let your dick make you weak.
"I trusted you." That’s my problem. I gave her something I don’t give. And now I remember why.
Her gaze snaps to me. “I trusted you too, Marco. I didn’t fuck myself. This didn’t happen on its own.”
I place the test back on the counter, unable to look at the result.
I think back to after the sauna incident.
She’d encouraged me to use a condom when I didn’t think I needed to.
The fact that I considered not using it is more proof of my weakness.
Normally, I’d have never risked it even with a woman on birth control.
But Gabriella had been different.
She’s like kryptonite.
Now I realize she never actually claimed she was on birth control. She let me assume, let me believe what I wanted to hear.
“You let me believe you were on birth control. You told me everything was fine. That was a lie.”
Her chin lifts defiantly. "I call it not wanting you to look at me exactly how you're looking at me now."
"And what way is that?"
She laughs. Actually laughs. “Like a man with a gun to his head… only worse.” She shakes her head in what seems like pity, and my rage boils hotter.
“Don’t turn this on me. I’ve been clear from the beginning that—”
“Yes, yes, I know.” She sighs. “How nice for you that you won’t have to change your life. I told you everything would be fine and it will be. Me and this baby don’t need your love. We definitely don’t need…” She looks at me with disgust. “All this.”
She returns to the bedroom.
I start to follow her, but my phone rings. I glance at the screen, Roman's name appearing.
"I need to take this." I’m pissed at my own weakness that I'm grateful for the interruption. "What is it?"
Roman's voice is terse. "We've got movement on that situation with Blackwood. He's meeting with that Fed that’s been on Dominic. The one who’d talked to Isabella."
“Ricci?”
“Yep. Could be two colleagues shooting the breeze or they could be coordinating.”
“See what you can learn.”
“Will do.” There’s a pause. "Everything okay? You sound—"
"I'm fine." I cut him off. "Just handle it."
I end the call, standing motionless in the center of the bathroom.
The pregnancy test still sits on the bathroom counter.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
When I return to the bedroom, it's empty.
A strange sense of panic wells.
I go to the hall and follow the sound to the guest room Gabriella originally stayed in.
I find her pulling clothes from drawers and tossing them into an open suitcase.
"What are you doing?"
She doesn't look up, just continues packing. "What does it look like?"
"You can't leave." I can’t believe I’m saying that.
I want to be as far away from her and her baby as possible. Don’t I?
"I don't need your protection anymore." Her voice is annoyingly calm. "I can be protected just as well at my father’s house, although how convenient for you if something did happen to me.”
Did she just say I’d be happy if she died? “What the fuck, Gabriella?” I feel like the floor under my feet is giving away and I can’t find steady ground.
“There’s no reason for me to stay.”
"We're in the middle of something here." I gesture between the two of us.
She finally meets my eyes, and the hurt I see there makes me want to look away. "No, Marco. We're at the end of something. You've made that perfectly clear."
"Gabriella—"
"You don’t want this.” She shrugs. “Fine. I'm setting you free."
I gape at her. “It’s not that easy. There’ll be questions,” I say, glancing at her belly that shows no signs of a baby. Maybe the test is wrong.
“Don’t worry, Marco. Like I said, it will be fine.”
Fucking hell, I wish she’d stop saying that. “How?”
“I'll go to Italy and stay with Luca. It’s early enough that everyone can think I was with someone else. You’ll be off the hook. No suspicion on you.” She gives me a brutal smile that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the history of the world. “Not your problem.”
Then it dawns on me that she’s got this all figured out already.
Which means she’s been thinking about it for some time.
Which means she wasn’t going to tell me.
The pain that sears through my chest is unexpected.
“You weren’t going to tell me about the pregnancy.”
"You don't want me or this baby,” she says matter-of-factly.
"You'd just take my child halfway across the world?"
Her hands still on the suitcase, her dark eyes turning toward me filled with rage. "Your child? Five minutes ago, you were accusing me of trapping you. Now suddenly, it's 'your child'?"
I want to scream because I can’t sort out the contradictory emotions colliding inside me.
I've spent my life avoiding exactly this scenario, yet the thought of her leaving with my unborn child makes me want to burn the world down.
"You can't just decide this on your own." There’s a desperation in my voice that unsettles me. I’m not a man who feels desperation. Especially not involving a woman.
"Watch me." She zips the suitcase with finality. "I'm doing what you want, Marco, freeing you from the burden of family. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"
Yes. No. Fuck! I don't know anymore.
I want to grab her, to shake her, to beg her to stay.
The impulse is so foreign to me that I freeze, paralyzed by the intensity of it.
This woman has worked her way under my skin, past all my defenses, and now she's walking away. Again.
She looks at me with something like pity. "Go. Your real life is waiting."
I stand frozen as Gabriella brushes past me. Something in my chest fractures. My jaw tightens. I remind myself that this is what I want.
I finally propel myself forward out into the hall and watch as she descends the stairs, her phone to her ear as she requests a ride home.
It’s probably Frank she’s calling.
She’ll be fine with him.
And she’s right, she can be protected as well at her father’s home as mine.
Unable to watch her walk out on me again, I return to my room. In the bathroom, I stare at the pregnancy test. PREGNANT.
I find it difficult to think a man as broken and… soulless as me could even create life.
And yet here’s proof that I did.
A child. My child.
Growing inside the woman who just walked out my door.
What do I know about being a father?
My own was a monster who taught me that love is weakness and family is a chain that binds you to suffering.
I'd only continue the cycle, damage another generation with my broken parts.
She deserves better. The child deserves better.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the image of Gabriella raising our child without me.
Of birthdays and Christmases I'll never see.
Of a life taking shape across an ocean, carrying my blood but none of my burdens.
This is the right thing. The merciful thing. Let her go before I ruin her and the child too.
I straighten my tie, reset my face into the mask I wear for the world.
Don Marco Calabresi doesn't falter. Doesn't feel. Doesn't need anyone.
I go downstairs to my office, the one place I’ll find my center, return to normal.
I lock away the part of me that wants to run after her, that wants to beg her to stay, that wants to try, despite everything I know about myself, to be worthy of her and our child.
Some men aren't made for happiness. I've always known I'm one of them.
I pull files toward me, staring at numbers and names until they blur together.
I don’t know how long I’m there before the door opens without a knock.
Roman walks in. “We believe Ricci was reporting to Blackwood. He’s her supervisor.”
“If she’s on Dom and he’s on me, they’re likely comparing notes and coordinating.”
Roman nods as he sits in the chair. “Wonder who’s on Ferraza and Monti?”
I shrug. “They’re old. Maybe they figure if Dom and I are sent away, La Corona will be easier to dismantle.”
Roman snorts. “They’re underestimating Leo and Antonio then.”
I concur.
"You look like shit."
I blow out a breath, wishing for strength I don’t have at the moment. "Thanks for the assessment."
“Does it have to do with a pissed off Gabriella leaving with her suitcase? At least that’s how Carlo described it."
I feel like I’m about to lose control. "Don't."
"Don't what? Mention that you're letting the best thing that ever happened to you walk out the door?"
"I said don't fuck with me, Roman." The warning in my voice would make most men retreat. Not him.
“I know you’re pretending that nothing is going on, but I know you—”
“Shut. Up.” My voice is deadly low.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" He leans forward, elbows on his knees, clearly not worried that I might shoot him. "That woman makes you better. Makes you almost human. And you're just letting her go?"
"She's better off."
"Bullshit." Roman's voice hardens. "That's the coward's way out and you know it."
"I'm not good for her. I'll ruin her life. Just like my father ruined my mother's. I’m not built like you.”
Roman shakes his head. "You're not your father, Marco. Never have been."
"I need to focus on finding this traitor."
"Keep telling yourself that." Roman stands, disgust evident in his expression. "While you're burying yourself in work, remember, some things, once lost, don't come back."
He leaves me alone with my thoughts, with the memory of Gabriella's face, with the knowledge that my child grows inside her.
The certainty that a future I was sure I didn’t want has slipped through my fingers.