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I shouldn't be surprised.

This is a man who ordered his own wife's death and slept peacefully that same night.

"Is that what he told you? That I killed my wife?"

"He has a recording. Your voice, ordering the hit." I say, but my voice wavers slightly. "Your son is stronger than you, Vito."

"My son..." Vito's fingers tap once against the wood. "Is exactly what I made him to be. Every scar, every kill, every dark impulse that's he's fucked into you. I carved that into him. Like a sculptor with marble."

The pride in his voice makes my stomach turn. Or maybe that's the morning sickness finally catching up to me.

Vito studies me, head tilted like a predator assessing prey.

"So, Bianca, tell me. Do you believe a recording can't be manipulated? That voices can't be imitated, words spliced together to create convenient truths?"

Doubt flickers briefly, but I push it aside. "I believe Luca."

"Of course you do." Vito's smile is almost pitying. "You've surrendered everything to him, why stop now? Your freedom, your body, your future. Belief is all you have left."

His words cut deeper than they should, finding the cracks in my certainty that I've tried to ignore. The way Luca claimed me that first night, the control he's exerted since, the violence I've witnessed from his hands.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, forcing strength into my voice. "Why am I here?"

"I want to offer you a choice, Bianca." Vito leans forward, the machinery keeping him alive hissing with the movement. "The kind of choice that wasn't offered to your father."

My pulse quickens. "Yet another person who died because of you."

"Alexei Petrov died because he betrayed this family," Vito corrects, eyes hardening on me. "Because he thought love mattered more than loyalty."

"And Elena? Did she betray the family too?"

Something flickers across Vito's face—not guilt, but something equally human. Something I hadn't expected to see in the monster Luca has described. The monster I've sat across from at dinners. The man who smiled as his son married me right here onhisterritory.

"Elena was leaving me," he says finally. "She planned to take my sons. To take my heirs."

"So you had her killed," I finish for him. "In front of her child. In front of Luca."

"I protected what was mine."

There's something different in those last few words, and when his gaze drops to my abdomen, where my hands still rest protectively, I know what it is.

"As you now protect what's yours. Half Ravelli." His eyes narrow with disgust. "And half Volkov. Your father wasn't just any lieutenant who defected, Bianca. Alexei Petrov was Dmitri Volkov's nephew. His blood runs in your veins as surely as it now runs in my grandchild's."

My entire body shivers. "How did you—"

My heart pounds against my ribs as I stare at Vito.

All this time, the Volkovs' interest, Dmitri's knowing looks, Demyan's possessive stares—it wasn't just about my father's betrayal. It was about blood.Theirblood. In me.

Not to mention the fact that I haven't told anyone except Luca about the pregnancy. Except for Teresa when she noticed my dizzy spell in the bathroom. But that was mere hours ago, and Luca said Vito had left for medical treatment.

How the fuck does he know?!

"Ah,yes.You see, Bianca, I've had you watched since before you knew what you carried," Vito says. "Just as I've had Marina watched since before you were born. Just as I've had the Volkovs monitored while they pretended not to be aware of your existence."

The room spins slightly, the weight of manipulation across decades pressing down on me.

"Why?" I whisper. "Why me? Why my mother?"