Chapter 16
Vivian
Ryan made it as far as the private airstrip.
He shaved his head, wore sunglasses and a suit two sizes too big, paid cash for the car and the fake passport.
But money doesn’t buy luck, not in the end.
He got tackled at the security gate, dragged away in handcuffs, screaming about “Bellandi” and “revenge.” No one cared.
The feds stacked the charges: fraud, embezzlement, racketeering, even a charge for taking the office printer.
The trial was fast. The verdict, faster.
Fifteen years, minimum.
I went to the sentencing, not because I wanted to see him, but because I needed to.
He looked at me from the table, eyes empty, and for a second I almost pitied him.
When the judge asked if he had anything to say, he turned to me, hands shaking.
“I’m sorry, Vivian. I never meant to lose you.”
I nodded, calm as glass. “You gave me the greatest gift—letting me go.”
He started crying, ugly and loud, until the guards took him away.
I walked out and never looked back.
Lisa visited the estate before she left town.
She was different—older, quieter, moving with a carefulness I’d never seen.
We sat in the garden, sun warm on our faces, the air full of honeysuckle.
“I’m leaving the city,” she said. “For good. I want my son to have a better life.”
She handed me a letter, folded and sealed.
“Don’t open it until I’m gone,” she said.
We hugged for a long time. I wished her luck, and this time, I meant it.
She left that afternoon. I watched from the window as her car disappeared down the driveway.
Inside the letter was one page.
Vivian,
I spent so long wanting what you had. I thought stealing it would make me happy.
It didn’t.
I hope you find every happiness. I hope your baby is loved like you were.
I’m sorry. For all of it.
Love,
Lisa
I cried for her, for me, for the years we wasted.
But when I was done, I felt lighter.
I found out I was pregnant soon enough not a surprise though! Alejandro was amazing through the pregnancy and when it was time, let’s just say I discovered the meaning of a mafia boss!
Holy freaking heck—
Alejandro surprised me with the nursery.
It overlooked the gardens, bright with morning light, painted in soft blue and gold.
He’d picked out every detail himself—the crib, the blankets, the rocking chair by the window.
There was a stuffed penguin on the shelf.
He held me from behind as we looked at the room.
“I wanted you to have a home,” he said. “A real one.”
I turned, kissed him, let the past fall away.
We spent the next few weeks getting ready. For the baby. For our new life.
Every night, we made dinner together, talked about names, read books out loud to my stomach.
Sometimes I caught him talking to the baby, promising the world.
I let myself believe in the promise.
One morning, as the birds screamed outside the window, I felt the first contraction.
It was sharp and bright and nothing like what I expected.
I grabbed Alejandro’s hand.
He grinned, equal parts terror and joy.
“It’s time?” he asked.
I nodded, laughing through the pain.
Holy. Freaking. Heck.
After everything, I was about to become a mother.