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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Viviana

I can’t let Romeo go. If he does, who knows what could happen? I have to keep him here, have to give him a reason to stay—

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“I’m pregnant.”

A loud rumble of thunder punctuates my statement, as if the heavens are underscoring the importance of the words that have just fallen from my lips.

Romeo freezes mid-step, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe as though the weight of my confession has physically stopped him. Matteo, standing just behind him, looks equally stunned, his eyes darting between us before muttering something under his breath and quickly leaving the room.

Romeo doesn’t turn to face me right away. His shoulders tense, the muscles visibly flexing under his shirt, and for a moment, I think I’ve broken him. When he finally turns, his dark eyes lock onto mine, fathomless and intense.

“What did you just say?” he asks, his voice low, almost dangerous.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely hear my own thoughts. My hands instinctively move to my stomach, a gesture that feels both protective and exposing.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeat, my voice trembling but steady enough to be heard.

He stares at me, his expression a storm of emotions I can’t quite decipher. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Something else—something darker, more dangerous, simmering just beneath the surface.

“For how long?” he asks, his tone clipped, every word laced with tension.

“A few months now,” I admit, my fingers tightening against the fabric of my dress. “I wasn’t sure at first, but the doctor at home confirmed it.”

His jaw tightens, and he takes a slow, deliberate step toward me. “You didn’t think you should tell me?”

I lift my chin, defiance sparking despite the fear curling in my stomach. “I didn’t know how you’d react. Because I was afraid of how you’d use it against me.”

His eyes narrow, and in an instant, he’s in front of me, his hands gripping my arms, not painfully, but firm enough to hold me in place. “Use it against you?” he repeats, his voice low and sharp. “You think I would do that?”

“You’ve controlled everything else about my life,” I snap, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “Why wouldn’t you control this too?”

His grip tightens slightly, his gaze boring into mine. “This isn’t about control, Viviana,” he growls. “This is about our child. My child.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I refuse to back down. “Exactly. That’s why you need to stop playing these games. You can’t keep running headfirst into danger and expect me to sit here and wait for the worst.”

His eyes soften, just barely, and he exhales through his nose, his hands loosening their hold on me. “You think I don’t know the risks? You think I haven’t considered what it means to have a family in a world like mine?”

“Then act like it,” I say, my voice trembling with both anger and desperation. “Stop risking everything. For once, think about someone other than yourself.”

He steps back, running a hand through his hair, his movements restless. “You don’t understand, Viviana. I can’t just stop. If I don’t end this, Salvatore will come for us. For you. For the baby.”

“Then find another way,” I plead, stepping closer. “Locking me away, throwing bodies at the problem—that’s not protecting us, Romeo. That’s just making the target bigger.”

His gaze snaps to mine, dark and full of something primal. “You think I would let anyone touch you? Touch my child?” His voice is low, deadly. “If I have to burn the world to keep you safe, I will.”

The intensity of his words leaves me breathless, but it also terrifies me. This isn’t love—it’s obsession. And while part of me is grateful for his protection, another part of me wonders if I’ve just made everything worse.

“You can’t keep me locked away,” I say quietly, trying to inject as much conviction into my voice as I can manage. “I won’t let you.”

He steps closer, his hand lifting to cup my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a gesture so tender it feels out of place.

“You need to stay safe,” he says softly, but his tone is absolute. “You’ll stay by my side, where I can protect you. If you try to run, Viviana, I will find you. If I have to, I’ll lock you away somewhere no one can reach you. Not even Salvatore.”

His words steal the breath from my lungs, and I stare at him, my heart pounding. “You don’t mean that,” I whisper, though I know he does.

“I mean every word,” he replies, his voice steady, his gaze unwavering. “You’ll stay guarded. You’ll stay safe. Our child will be protected at all costs.”

I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes as the weight of his possessiveness bears down on me. “Romeo, this isn’t protection. This is a prison.”

“It’s a prison that keeps you alive,” he counters, his hand dropping from my face. “I’ll take that over the alternative.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy and oppressive, the storm outside nothing compared to the one brewing in this room. He watches me with an intensity that makes my chest ache, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of me, every flicker of emotion on my face.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he says again, his voice softer now but no less resolute. “Even if it means you hate me for it.”

I don’t respond. I can’t. The conflict raging inside me—between fear, anger, and something dangerously close to hope—leaves me frozen in place. All I know is that Romeo Valenti has just staked his claim on me and our child, and no matter what I say, no matter how hard I fight, he won’t let go.

“Romeo, you can’t lock me away for years. You can’t lock our child in a prison, either,” I snap, my voice trembling but firm. “This child can’t be leverage for you to wield in whatever game you’re playing.”

Romeo’s jaw tightens, his eyes dark and stormy as he stares at me. “This is dangerous,” he says, his voice low and lethal. “This is about survival. For you. For the baby. For us.”

“Don’t you dare say us like it’s something I agreed to,” I fire back, stepping closer, my anger overriding my fear. “I’m not going to let you dictate my life, Romeo. I won’t let you decide my future—or our child’s.”

His lips curl into a humorless smirk, though there’s no amusement in his eyes. “I don’t care,” he snaps, his tone mocking. “You think Salvatore cares about your independence, your freedom? He will take you, Viviana. He will take our child, and he will destroy everything that matters to me. Do you want that?”

“No, I don’t!” I shout, my voice cracking. “I want you to give me a life that someone might want to live, Romeo!”

His hands clench at his sides, the veins in his arms visible as he struggles to contain his frustration. “You’re asking me to do the impossible,” he growls. “You’re asking me to risk your life when I’ve already lost too much.”

“You’re asking me to give up everything I am,” I counter, my voice softer now but no less resolute. “I can’t do that, Romeo. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the tension between us thick and suffocating. Romeo’s chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, his eyes locked on mine as if he’s searching for something—an answer, a weakness, a reason to believe me.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he says finally, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Whether you like it or not.”

“And what about what I want?” I ask, my voice trembling. “What about what I need?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he steps closer, his hand lifting to brush against my cheek. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, I feel the crack in his armor—the vulnerability he hides so well. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

“You matter more than you think,” he murmurs, his gaze softening just enough to make my heart ache. “But I can’t lose you, Viviana. Not you. Not the baby.”

I shake my head, stepping back and breaking the connection between us. “You can’t have me like this, Romeo,” I say quietly. “Not when you don’t trust me to make my own choices.”

The tension between us lingers like a storm cloud, unresolved and suffocating. I retreat to my room, needing space to think, to breathe.

My hands tremble as I sit on the edge of my bed, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. And there's my phone staring at me from the nightstand.

Me having it back may be a fucked up trust building exercise.

I’ve barely settled my thoughts around this when my phone vibrates on the nightstand.

The sight of the number—unfamiliar and untraceable—makes my stomach drop. With shaking hands, I pick up the device and open the message. It’s a video, and the thumbnail alone is enough to make my blood run cold.

It’s my father.

I hit play, my heart pounding as the video begins. Antonio is slumped in a chair, his face swollen and bloodied, his breathing labored. Behind him stands a man I recognize immediately—Salvatore. His face is calm, almost smug, as he leans closer to the camera.

“Romeo Valenti,” Salvatore says, his voice smooth and cruel. “I have two of your people now. One of Romeo’s loyal dogs…and your father.”

My hand flies to my mouth, a choked gasp escaping me. “No,” I whisper, my vision blurring with tears. “No, no, no.”

Salvatore continues, his tone dripping with venom. “If you value their lives, you’ll meet me. Alone. No guards, no Matteo, no traps. Just you. If I sense even a hint of betrayal…” He trails off, pulling a knife from his pocket and pressing it against Antonio’s throat. My father flinches, his eyes filled with fear, but Salvatore only laughs.

“You have twenty-four hours,” he finishes. “Tick-tock.”

The video ends, and I sit frozen, my mind spinning. My father. They have my father.

I grip the phone tightly, my breathing shallow as I try to process what this means. It’s not just about Romeo anymore, or Marco. This is my family. My blood. Now, I’m just as much a part of this war as Romeo is.

I can’t sit here and do nothing. I can’t let Salvatore win.

My hands tremble as I rise from the bed, my determination hardening with each passing second. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure my father gets out of this alive. Even if it means confronting Romeo. Even if it means risking everything.

I grip the phone so tightly my knuckles turn white, the image of my father’s bloodied face burned into my mind. My pulse pounds in my ears, my breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

I can’t sit still. I can’t face Romeo right now—not when I know exactly what his reaction will be.

I push open the door to my room and head down the hall, my feet moving before I can fully think through my plan. The estate is quiet except for the distant murmur of guards outside, but I know where to find Matteo. He’s always nearby, always hovering in the shadows like a ghost.

I find him in the study, standing by the window with his phone pressed to his ear. His sharp gaze flickers to me the moment I step inside, and he quickly ends the call, slipping the device into his pocket.

“Viviana,” he says, his tone cautious. “What’s wrong?”

I hold out the phone, my hands trembling. “Salvatore,” I say, my voice breaking. “He turned on my father.”

Matteo’s expression hardens instantly. He takes the phone from me and watches the video, his jaw tightening as Salvatore’s words echo in the room. When the video ends, he exhales sharply, setting the phone down on the desk.

“This changes everything,” he says, his voice grim. “He’s trying to make you put pressure on the situation for him.”

I shake my head, tears pricking at my eyes. “There has to be another way. He can’t just go charging into another bloodbath. Salvatore is expecting it—he’s counting on it.”

Matteo’s gaze meets mine, unwavering and resolute. “Romeo won’t back down. Not after this.”

“He has to,” I insist, my voice rising. “If he goes after Salvatore, more people will die. My father, Marco…even Romeo himself.”

Matteo’s lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, he looks almost sympathetic. “You don’t know him like I do,” he says quietly. “Romeo doesn’t negotiate. Not when it comes to the people he cares about.”

The weight of his words settles over me like a lead blanket, and I feel my knees threaten to buckle. “This is exactly what Salvatore wants,” I whisper. “He’s setting a trap, and Romeo is walking right into it.”

Matteo steps closer, his expression softening just slightly. “You’re right. It is a trap. Try convincing him of that. He’s not thinking rationally anymore, Viviana. Not since you told him you were pregnant. Honestly, he hasn’t been thinking clearly since you came into his life.”

The implication in his words makes my stomach twist, but I can’t let it distract me. “There has to be another way,” I say again, my voice trembling. “Please, Matteo. Help me stop him.”

Matteo hesitates, his gaze flickering toward the door as though expecting Romeo to appear at any moment.

Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I’ll try,” he says reluctantly. “Don’t get your hopes up. Once Romeo has his mind set on something, there’s no turning back.”

His words hang in the air, a grim reminder of the man I’m dealing with.

I refuse to give up.

For my father, for Marco, for the life growing inside me—I have to find a way to stop this before it’s too late.