Page 47

MARIA

I wake up in Matteo’s arms. For a moment, I let all the doubt slip away and allow myself that one singular moment of reprieve.

His warmth surrounds me, the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back grounding me in the early morning stillness. His arm is draped over my waist, his hand resting just above my hip, holding me close even in his sleep.

For a brief moment, I allow myself to sink into it—to close my eyes and pretend that nothing is wrong. That there isn’t a flash drive hidden in my nightstand, waiting to unravel everything. That I’m not holding a secret inside me, a possibility that could change my life forever.

But the moment doesn’t last very long because I feel movement behind me.

Matteo shifts slightly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the back of my shoulder. “You’re awake,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with sleep.

I force a small smile, even though my stomach twists uncomfortably. “I was just enjoying the quiet.”

He hums in response, his hand skimming lightly across my stomach before settling against my waist again. He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel him studying me, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

“You’re tense,” he finally says, his voice still low, but sharper now.

Crap.

I stiffen slightly, but then I school my expression, turning in his arms to face him. “Just tired.”

Matteo’s eyes search mine, and for a second, I think he might push—might call me out on the lie. But then he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll have someone bring you breakfast in bed.”

I shake my head, sitting up. “No. I’ll be fine once I’m up.” I force another smile. “Besides, I don’t like people preparing food for me anymore.”

I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that. The last thing either of us needs is to be reminded of the Emily incident.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter under my breath.

“I understand. The fridge has everything you could want. But I’ll ask Valerio to make any runs you need—for anything. I don’t want you wandering outside for too long.”

He brushes the back of his hand over my cheek. I lean into his touch and revel in its warmth for a moment longer. I close my eyes and will myself to hush the internal voice that keeps roaring loudly in my head.

When my eyes open, I meet his raging pupils that stare into the deepest parts of my soul. “You should get to work.”

His eyes flick over me once more before he finally nods.

I watch as he rises from bed, the muscles in his back flexing as he moves toward the closet. Matteo is not a man who misses anything, and I know that even though he’s letting this go for now, it won’t be for long.

So I do what I have to.

I fake another smile. I kiss him goodbye. I let him think that everything is fine. And then, as soon as the door closes behind him, I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

I fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if it’s even worth looking at the flash drive—or if it’ll just bring new battles we’ll have to face.

The house is quiet as I make my way to the kitchen. A few of Matteo’s men nod in greeting, but I barely acknowledge them—my mind too tangled in itself. At first, the extra security bugged me, especially with the fact that they were now inside the house.

But as the days moved on, I got used to them. Now, I barely notice their presence unless they speak.

I brew a cup of tea, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic, hoping it will steady me. It doesn’t.

My stomach churns, and for a moment, I think it’s just the stress—the weight of everything piling onto my shoulders. But then a sharp nausea rolls through me, and I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m on my knees, retching into the toilet.

I gasp for air, my forehead pressing against the cool porcelain as my body betrays me. My mind runs with wild ideas of what could have possibly upset me this bad. Is it that drive? Or is it the fact that I’m hiding something from my husband?

The flash of my ring against the light makes me pause. I flush the toilet and get myself back on my feet. My ribs scream in agony from the force they just underwent. I can’t remember the last time I got sick like this. Maybe it was what I ate yesterday—barely anything at all.

“Stress, it has to be stress,” I say to myself.

I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the edge of the sink, my hair curtains my face as I blink back the moisture. My reflection in the mirror is pale, my lips slightly parted as I take slow, measured breaths.

The wave of nausea passes, but my mind won’t quiet. Could I be…?

I shake my head, the blaring of my phone breaking my internal freak-out. I grab it with unsteady hands and see Ginny’s name flashing on the screen.

I hesitate for only a second. “Hey.”

The moment she hears my voice, she knows something isn’t right. “What is it?” This woman has begun to know me all too well now.

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers against my temple. “I just don’t… I don’t feel well.”

Ginny is silent for a moment. “Are you sick?”

“A lot on my mind, I guess… and I just threw up, so maybe it was the tea? Or something I ate last night. I don’t know.”

Ginny remains silent on the other side of the line. I remove my ear from my phone to see if maybe she hung up. No, she’s still there.

“Ginny?”

She clears her throat but says nothing at first. Then she finally speaks, “Maria… when was your last period?”

The question lands like a punch to the stomach.

I blink. My mouth suddenly feels dry. It was the same thought I’d had just before she called—but one I refused to believe.

“I… I don’t remember.” I try to think back. I count back the weeks, and then I pause. “Oh, shit. Almost eight weeks ago, I think.”

“Oh my God,” Ginny breathes. “You need to take a test.”

A heavy, sinking weight settles in my chest. “No,” I say quickly. “It’s just stress. It’s?—”

“Maria,” Ginny cuts me off, her voice firm but gentle. “Just take the test. I can bring one to your house right now if you want me to and?—”

“No, don’t. You don’t have to do that. I can just have one delivered here.” I rush out, run a frantic hand through my hair, and then look up at the mirror. My eyes are wide, and I can see the fear floating in them.

Pregnant.

I grip the edge of the counter. My heart pounds so loudly, I can hear it echoing in my ears. A single word—pregnant—and it terrifies me more than anything I’ve faced before.

“You’re scared to find out you might be pregnant?”

I open my mouth to give her an answer, but the truth is I don’t know. With the flash drive nonsense still swimming in my head, I don’t know if I want to be pregnant right now. Giacomo is still a problem, and Emily is wandering the streets of New York, likely biding her time.

I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around the phone. “I don’t know. Matteo and I only just started getting along, and with him still at odds with Daniele, I don’t know if now is the best time to… have a baby.”

“Aww, honey. Whatever the outcome of the test, I am sure that he will stand by your side. The man loves you with everything he has in him.”

“I know.” The words slip past my lips, but I don’t even know if I believe them myself. “Look, I need to go, I will text you later, okay?”

I hang up before she can say anything else. Immediately, I order the test online and have it delivered to the penthouse.

“Ten minutes.” I check the delivery app—that’s how long it says it’ll take. My eyes lift back to my reflection, meeting it once more.

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at myself, my pulse echoing in my ears. My hand finds its way to my flat stomach, and this sudden warmth overtakes me at the thought of a little life growing inside of me.

A baby. Our baby.

Being a mother has always been one of my greatest goals in life. I know that I was put on this earth to be one.

Then, without another thought, I step out of the bathroom and walk to the foyer to await my delivery. The guards watch me curiously, but they say nothing to me.

The doorman finally calls, and I allow the delivery man up. He hands me the box, and I make my way back to my room. I close the door behind me and head into the bathroom to pee on the damn stick. All the while, my mind goes round and round in circles trying to think out all the different scenarios.

I read the instructions—three minutes. That’s all it takes to rewrite my life.

I cap the stick, set it aside, and lay on the bed, trying to breathe through the storm building inside me.

The seconds tick by like minutes. Then my gaze snaps to the side table.

The flash drive—still hidden where I left it after the gala.

For days, I’ve gone back and forth, debating whether to open it.

“I need to know what’s in this thing.” I open the drawer and pull out the flash drive with shaking hands. I look back down at the pregnancy test that is still processing. “Let’s do this.”

I walk over to the desk where my computer sits, and with anxiety gripping my chest, I plug the drive into my computer. It’s now or never.

I stare at the screen, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs. My hand hovers over the trackpad, the small, blinking folder taunting me. With a deep breath, I double-click the folder.

A single video file sits inside. Antonio.mp4

My stomach churns violently. Why would Giacomo give me a video with my brother’s name on it? I already know that whatever is on this is going to shatter my heart. I can feel it.

My hand hovers over the play button, my fingers shaking. Every part of me is screaming to stop. To shut the laptop. To walk away.

But I can’t. I have to know.

I press play.

The screen flickers, grainy footage filling my laptop. The timestamp in the corner is from that night—the night he died. Oh my God…

The camera is shaky, like it was taken from a security feed or a hidden vantage point. The warehouse in the background is familiar, but what catches my attention first is him.

Antonio.