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VALENTINA

A Month Later

It’s not running if I don’t leave. That’s the thought that solidifies everything.

I’m not leaving, at least not right now.

There are too many unanswered questions, too many things I still don’t understand about Luca, his world, and the quiet pull he has on me.

Sofia has been incredibly patient through the month it’s taken me to admit that.

But the more time I spend with Luca, the clearer it becomes that any escape plan putting her at risk isn’t a real solution, especially when I’m still not sure what I want.

She sent another message this morning, asking what I plan to do. I can’t leave her waiting anymore.

The man who promised me power and control last night is the same man I find staring at me with an unspoken need when he thinks I’m not looking.

The same man who could command armies yet sits in silence, waiting for my word.

There’s no child tying me here. No tiny life depending on my choices except my own.

For once, I can afford to stop and see where this will go.

My phone buzzes on the bedside table, Sofia’s name lighting up the screen. I let it buzz until it stops, then type a quick reply: Sorry for being late. Will explain soon.

It’s vague enough to keep her satisfied, but it lets me hold the reins.

Luca isn’t awake when I slip out of the room. The house is quiet, the kind of hush that feels too poised to be natural. I head toward the dining room, where breakfast is usually laid out like a feast fit for kings. My stomach churns, not from nerves, but from hunger.

I’m halfway down the hallway when it hits. At first, it’s just a prickling sensation in my belly, faint and easy to ignore. But it sharpens, a stabbing pain that doubles me over and forces a gasp from my lips.

I grip the wall, the cool plaster grounding me as I fight to straighten up. My vision blurs, black spots darting at the edges. Something’s wrong.

I press a hand to my stomach, trying to steady the swirling nausea, but it’s like a storm raging inside me, relentless and unforgiving. My legs wobble beneath me, and before I can stop myself, I drop to my knees, clutching my middle.

“Signora?”

The cleaning lady’s voice comes from somewhere far away, faint and warped like it’s traveling through water. I open my mouth to answer, but the words dissolve into a dry heave.

My throat burns, my body convulsing as I crawl toward the nearest doorway. The bathroom. I need the bathroom. The maid rushes toward me, her face a blur of concern. “Signora, are you?—?”

I wave her off, barely making it into the bathroom before the sickness explodes out of me. Acid burns my throat as I retch, each wave worse than the last. My knees dig into the cold tile, and tears stream down my face as my body betrays me.

The door creaks open behind me.

“No, don’t,” I croak, barely finding the strength to lift my head.

But she doesn’t leave. Her voice rises in panic as she calls out, “Signore Salvatore! Please! It’s the Signora!”

A new fear grips me, one that cuts deeper than the pain clawing at my insides. I hear the thunder of his footsteps before I see him. Heavy, deliberate, and full of fury.

The door swings open, and Luca fills the frame, his green eyes narrowing as they take me in, slumped and trembling on the bathroom floor. “What the hell happened?” he demands, his voice sharp enough to slice through my haze.

“She…she just collapsed,” the maid stammers, backing away. “I didn’t know what to?—”

“Out.” The word is a growl, and the maid flees without another word.

He kneels beside me, his movements unnervingly calm for a man who looks like he’s barely containing an eruption. “Valentina,” he says, softer now, but still carrying that streak of absolute authority. “What’s wrong?”

I can barely breathe, let alone answer. Another wave of nausea grips me, and I clutch his arm as if he can somehow anchor me.

“It hurts,” I whisper, my voice ragged.

He doesn’t hesitate. In one swift motion, he scoops me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. “We’re going to the clinic,” he says, and there’s no room for argument.

“No... I can?—”

“Quiet.” The word lands hard. Not cruel, just final.

The estate’s private medical wing is only minutes away, but the ride stretches forever.

My head rests against Luca’s chest, the steady beat of his heart the only thing keeping me tethered while the pain pulses low and dull.

His hand stays on my back, large and warm, but his body is stiff.

By the time we arrive, the lights are already on and the doctor is waiting, called in the moment I collapsed.

Luca doesn’t let me go until the examination room is prepped.

Even then, he only steps back because the doctor insists.

Dr. Ashley Carter is calm, efficient, and all business, though I catch the way her eyes flick to Luca before she begins. She’s used to working in high-stakes silence. Used to the weight of men like him. “You gave us a scare,” she says, checking the monitors, her voice kind and clear.

“I’m fine now,” I say quickly, though I can tell neither she nor Luca believes me.

Dr. Carter glances at the monitor, jotting something down before looking at me again. “You’ll recover. But there’s something you need to be aware of—both of you.” Her gaze flickers to Luca.

The air shifts. My chest tightens as I watch her carefully, trying to decipher the meaning behind her words.

“Your fainting spell wasn’t just from stress or exhaustion,” she continues. “You’re pregnant. Very early stages, but everything appears healthy so far. You’ll need to take it easy for the next few weeks.”

Pregnant. The word echoes in my mind, slow and surreal. I blink at her, unable to process the reality behind it.

“You’re sure?” Luca’s voice cuts through the fog, steady as ever, though I can feel the tension radiating off him.

“Yes,” Dr. Carter confirms. “We’ll run more tests to ensure everything is progressing normally, but right now, the most important thing is for her to rest and avoid any unnecessary stress.”

She speaks directly to him, as though I’m incapable of understanding. But my gaze is fixed on my hands, trembling slightly where they rest on the blanket.

A child.

Luca’s child.

The thought sends a jolt through me—fear, disbelief, and something I can’t name, all battling for dominance. I glance at Luca, expecting anger or frustration. But his expression is unreadable, his jaw tight, and his green eyes are locked on me.

The doctor excuses herself, leaving us alone in the silence.

“You didn’t know,” Luca says finally, breaking the tension.

I shake my head. “I had no idea.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. What we now know fills the space between us. “This changes things,” he says, his voice softer now, though there’s an edge to it.

“Does it?” I ask, barely above a whisper.

His eyes snap to mine, sharp and piercing. “Of course it does. You’re carrying my child, Valentina.”

“And that’s supposed to make everything better?” I shoot back, the words escaping before I can stop them. “You think a baby solves all the complications of this relationship, Luca?”

“No,” he admits. “But it means you’re not just my wife now. You’re the mother of my child. And I will do whatever it takes to protect both of you.”

The conviction in his tone is staggering. I want to push back, to reject the possessiveness that comes so naturally to him. But there’s something in his eyes, something raw and unguarded, that gives me pause.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper, my hand unconsciously moving to my stomach.

“You’re my wife,” he replies quietly. “This is… surprising, but not unexpectedly so.”

I’m still reeling, since we were careful. My birth control obviously didn’t work. My mind is running through all the scenarios when he says, “It’s going to be okay, Valentina. I’ll be here for you.”

For the first time, I see something beyond the ruthless don, beyond the control and power he wields so effortlessly. There’s vulnerability there, buried deep, but it’s unmistakable. And maybe that’s what scares me the most.

“I need time,” I say finally, my voice trembling. “To process all of this.”

Luca nods, his expression going blank. “Take all the time you need.”

As he steps back, giving me space, I realize how much everything has shifted. The lines between us, once so clear, are now hopelessly blurred. He turns to leave the clinic. “Rest, Valentina. I’ll have food sent here.”

I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion pull me under. But even as sleep claims me, one thought lingers. This child changes everything. And yet, it might not change anything at all.