Page 35 of Mafia Pregnancy
Danielle
F riday afternoon arrives with the kind of crisp October air that makes everything feel sharper.
I finish my half day at the estate and drive directly to Dr. Martinez’s office for my fourteen-week appointment, wearing the loose cardigan over my polo shirt that has become part of my uniform for hiding the changes in my body.
The waiting room smells like disinfectant and is filled with women in various stages of pregnancy reading magazines or scrolling through their phones. I check in with the receptionist and settle into a chair, trying to calm my nerves about what I might learn today.
“Danielle Arden?” Not even five minutes later, a nurse with kind eyes and graying hair appears in the doorway. “Ready for your ultrasound?”
I follow her down a familiar hallway to the same room where I first saw this baby four weeks ago. “How are you feeling?” Dr. Martinez enters with her usual warm smile, reviewing my chart as she settles onto the rolling stool beside the examination table.
“Tired, but the nausea is getting better.” I lie back and lift my shirt, exposing the slight curve of my belly that’s becoming harder to disguise each week.
Instead of the technician today, the doctor herself spreads the cool gel across my skin and positions the ultrasound wand, and within moments, the familiar sound of a rapid heartbeat fills the room.
The baby appears on the screen, so much bigger than last time, with clearly defined features and active movements that make my chest tighten with love and fear.
“Everything looks perfect,” Dr. Martinez says, taking measurements and noting details in my file. “I see a strong heartbeat and good growth patterns. I see no concerns at all.”
“That’s wonderful.” I watch the baby move on the screen, one tiny hand seeming to wave at us.
“The baby is in a good position for gender determination if you’re interested in knowing.” She pauses the image and looks at me expectantly. “Would you like to find out?”
I hesitate for a long moment, thinking about all the ways my life might change once I know. There’s something final about learning the baby’s gender that makes this pregnancy feel more real and immediate. “Yes,” I say quietly. “I’d like to know.”
She moves the wand to get a better angle, studying the screen with professional concentration. “Congratulations, Danielle. You’re having a girl.”
A girl. I’m going to have a daughter. The knowledge settles into my chest with a mixture of joy and terror that makes my eyes fill with unexpected tears.
“I’ll print some pictures for you and prepare the gender results in an envelope if you’d like to share the news with anyone special.” Dr. Martinez cleans the gel from my belly and helps me sit up. “Any questions about what to expect over the next few weeks?”
We discuss nutrition and exercise and warning signs to watch for.
It’s all routine information that feels surreal given the complicated circumstances of this pregnancy.
When she hands me the sealed envelope containing the gender results, I tuck it carefully into my purse alongside the ultrasound photos.
“Thank you.” I shake her hand and schedule my next appointment, going through the motions of normal prenatal care while my mind races with thoughts of the future for this baby and Leo.
Outside the clinic, I pause on the sidewalk to take a deep breath of the crisp air.
Something feels off, like the sensation of being watched that I can’t quite shake.
I scan the street and parking lot, looking for anything that seems out of place, but the area appears normal.
A few cars pass by, pedestrians walk with purposeful strides, and nothing seems threatening.
I shake off the feeling and tighten my cardigan around my body, conscious of the way the fabric drapes over my growing belly.
In a few more weeks, loose clothing won’t be enough to hide the pregnancy, and I’ll have to make decisions about what to tell people and when.
I’ll have to tell Radmir or be gone by then.
It’s like there’s a clock ticking off the seconds to countdown in the back of my mind.
The drive to Little Scholar Academy takes fifteen minutes through afternoon traffic that’s heavier than usual. I park in my usual spot and check my phone while waiting for the three-thirty dismissal. I have nothing that requires immediate attention.
The preschool doors open, and children begin streaming out with their usual energy and excitement. I spot Leo immediately, his yellow jacket bright against the muted colors of fall, and wave to catch his attention.
“Mama!” He runs toward me with his backpack bouncing against his shoulders. “Guess what we learned about today?”
“What did you learn about, sweetheart?”
“Butterflies. Did you know they start as caterpillars and then they make a house called a chrysalis and then they turn into butterflies? Miss Jennifer showed us pictures.”
“That sounds fascinating.” I help him into his car seat, listening to his detailed explanation of metamorphosis while my mind drifts to my own transformations. “You’re getting so smart.”
“Miss Jennifer says I ask really good questions. Can we go to the park today? I want to look for caterpillars.”
“Maybe tomorrow, baby. Today we need to go home and?—”
“Danielle.”
The familiar voice makes me freeze with Leo’s seatbelt halfway buckled.
I look up to find Radmir approaching my car with the confident stride of someone who owns whatever space he occupies.
He’s dressed casually in dark jeans and a sweater, but there’s nothing casual about the intensity in his expression.
“Mr. Vetrov.” I force my voice to remain steady despite the panic rising in my chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I might take you and Leo to an early dinner.” He leans down to look through the car window at Leo, who waves enthusiastically from his car seat. “Hello, Leo. How was school today?”
“Mr. Radmir, hi. We learned about butterflies, and I told Miss Jennifer you know about dinosaurs, and she said maybe you could come talk to our class sometime.”
“I’d be honored to talk to your class about dinosaurs.” Radmir’s smile is genuine, and I see something soft in his expression when he looks at Leo that makes my throat tight. “But first, would you like to go get some pizza? I know a place with really good cheese pizza and games you can play.”
“Can we, Mama? Please?” Leo’s excitement is immediate and pure. “I love pizza.”
“Leo, I don’t think?—”
“I insist.” Radmir’s tone is pleasant but firm, and when I meet his gaze, I see steel underneath the surface politeness. “My car is right here. I can drive you both to the restaurant.”
I want to refuse, to make some excuse about prior commitments or Leo’s bedtime routine, but the way Radmir watches me suggests this isn’t really a request. “Leo needs his car seat. We’ll follow you.”
“Of course.” He straightens and points toward a sleek black sedan parked a few spaces away. “Mario’s Pizza on Fifth Street. Do you know it?”
I nod, though I’m already calculating whether I can lose him in traffic or find some way to avoid this confrontation.
The thought dies when I notice a black SUV positioned at the parking lot exit, and another one visible down the street.
His men are already in place, making sure I follow through with this dinner invitation.
“See you there in a few minutes.” Radmir taps the roof of my car gently before walking away, and I watch him go with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“This is going to be so fun.” Leo chatters happily as I finish securing him in his seat and get behind the wheel to start the engine, completely unaware of the undercurrents swirling around him.
“I can show Mr. Radmir how good I am at the claw machine, and maybe he’ll want to learn about butterflies too. ”
The drive to Mario’s Pizza feels both endless and too short. I follow Radmir’s sedan through familiar streets while my mind races through possible scenarios for how this evening might unfold. He knows Leo is his son—I’m certain of that now. The question is what he plans to do with that knowledge.
At the restaurant, Leo practically bounces out of his car seat with excitement. The place is clearly designed for families, with bright colors and cartoon characters painted on the walls, plus an arcade area filled with games and rides that immediately capture Leo’s attention.
“Can I play games, Mama? Please?” He tugs on my hand, already pulling toward the flashing lights and cheerful music.
“After we eat, sweetheart.” I guide him toward a booth in the back corner, where Radmir is already waiting with menus spread across the table.
“This place is amazing.” Leo slides into the booth beside Radmir with casual familiarity that makes my chest ache. “Do they really have games AND pizza?”
“They do. After we eat, I’ll give you some tokens so you can try whatever games you want.” Radmir hands him a children’s menu with activities printed on the back. “Do you know what kind of pizza you like?”
“Cheese is my favorite, but I also like pepperoni sometimes.” Leo immediately starts working on the word search puzzle despite barely knowing the alphabet, poking out his tongue in concentration.
The only words he can write are his first and last name, so he fills in the squares with his childish writing, repeating Leo and Arden a few times before Radmir lifts a crayon.
“Maybe I show you how to spell a different name?”
My stomach drops as Leo nods. Radmir carefully writes out V-E-T-R-O-V on the menu. “Do you think you can spell that?”
“Sure,” says Leo. “Will you order my cheese pizza, Mr. Radmir?”
“Of course. Cheese pizza it is.” Radmir signals the waitress and orders a large cheese pizza, drinks, and a basket of garlic bread. When she leaves, he turns his attention to me with a rigid expression.