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Chapter thirty-two

Alessa

I wait for the doctor to throw his head back and laugh at his sick joke.

He doesn’t. So, I wait some more, my heart pounds against my chest like it’s trying to break free.

“I’m sorry, what?” It’s Dominic who breaks the pregnant silence.

Pregnant.

The word echoes in my mind, suddenly taking on a whole new meaning.

My hands remain locked in his, his grip tightening like he’s afraid I might shatter if he lets go. And honestly, I might. With the cocktail of painkillers swimming through my system, everything feels like I’m underwater, sounds muffled, vision blurring at the edges. All I want is solid ground.

“You’re pregnant, Ms. Russo,” the doctor repeats with clinical detachment. No smile. No laugh. Because this isn’t a joke, is it? “Your blood work just came back and your hCG levels are higher than what we’d normally expect. That usually only means one thing…you’re pregnant. But we’ll do further tests to confirm.”

“Let’s do that,” I manage, my voice a stranger’s. The words feel mechanical, disconnected from the chaos erupting inside me.

“Alright. I’ll order another blood test to make sure you really are expecting and we can estimate how far along you are. Then we’ll get you an ultrasound and a consultation, and we can discharge you before the day ends.”

I can’t form words as I stare at my hand, riddled with IV needles. I’ve survived my mother’s death, my father’s betrayal, a bombing, a gunshot wound—and somehow maintained my composure through it all. But this? This news hits differently. Not a wound I can bandage or a threat I can outrun.

A baby. A life growing inside me right now.

Sure, I’ve thought about having children someday in that distant, hypothetical future—the same way people think about retirement or writing a novel. But now? While I’m literally in a hospital bed from a gunshot wound? While I’m sleeping with a man who kidnapped me? While my father is being hunted by the most dangerous organization in the country? The timing couldn’t be worse if it tried.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the doctor and nurse leave. The door closing with a soft click that somehow feels deafening. Only then do I look up, a warm tear escaping before I can stop it.

“What the fuck.” I sob, my voice cracking. “I–I–wh-what the actual fuck.”

Dominic rises from the bed suddenly, my body swaying at the unexpected absence of his warmth. The hollow ache returns immediately. He moves to the duffel bag at the entryway, tossing it onto the chair against the wall. At least he’s not breaking things. That’s something.

Whatever this is between us—it started as mutual attraction mixed with Stockholm syndrome in the world’s most fucked-up meet-cute. Now it’s something more complicated, something I don’t have words for yet. But a baby? That’s throwing gasoline on a fire we’ve barely started.

Dominic paces in front of me, craning his neck backward, wiping his mouth with one hand. My eyes follow him, the doctor’s words still ringing in my ears.

You’re pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

With Dominic’s child.

And just like that, I have something irreplaceable to lose.

Not just me looking out for myself anymore. A tiny life I’ll be responsible for. Their safety. Their health. Their future. Every decision I make from now on affects someone else who can’t protect themselves.

I’m going to be a mother.

And Dominic—he’s going to be a father. Just as he’s cementing his place in the Commission, he’ll have to balance that life with something equally important—our child. He’ll need to split his time, not just between power plays and business, but with the little person who’s going to need him. I refuse to have our child grow up feeling like an afterthought. Whether he realizes it or not, this changes everything.

“I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out unbidden as more tears blur my vision. I blame the medication, the shock, the hormones—anything but the fear that he’ll reject us both.

“Don’t apologize, Alessa.”

His voice comes out firm but not harsh. Quiet, like he’s processing each word carefully before speaking. I don’t know what response I expected—anger, panic, coldness—but I’m grateful for this controlled calm, even if it’s just a facade.

“I didn’t know,” I admit, shaking my head as I wipe tears with the back of my hand. “I lost track of everything. I meant to ask for birth control and morning-afters, but then the bombing happened and everything after—” My voice catches. “I’m so sorry, Dominic. I know—”

“Hey, eyes on me, baby.” Dominic approaches the bed, towering over me. His hand finds my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze. Then, something I never expected—he sinks to his knees before me, slow and deliberate. His eyes don’t leave mine as his hands find my thighs. There’s nothing sexual in the touch—it’s grounding, almost reverent. “You’re in shock, okay?”

“Dom—”

“Listen to me,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I nod, another sob escaping. “It’s not your fault, alright? It’s been a shitshow these past weeks, and I should have been more responsible with all of this, but it’s not your fault.”

“You’re not mad?” My voice sounds small, even to my own ears. “It changes everything. The Commission—”

“The Commission isn’t important right now.” His jaw clenches briefly, the only sign that this is affecting him more than he’s letting on. “And, sure, the timing isn’t ideal but I’m not mad at you. Never.”

My heart swells painfully in my chest at the sight of him kneeling before me, holding me, saying everything I need to hear. His fingers twitch against my thigh, a flicker of tension before he buries it.

“I know this is all scary, and I don’t know shit about being a parent. But if this is real, I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

“Say it,” he urges softly.

“You’ll be right here.”

“With you,” he corrects, his eyes locked on mine. “I’m not going to leave you. And whatever you decide, I’ll support you, okay? It will change things, but not between us.”

“I’m scared.”

There it is—the raw truth. Not of pregnancy or childbirth or even the responsibility that comes after. I’m scared for our lives. I don’t even know for certain if there’s a life growing inside me, but already the instinct to protect it burns like a wildfire. The love forming is terrifying—vast and all-consuming. And with it comes a fear that cuts bone-deep, a dread that if anything happens to it, the pain would destroy me completely. A kind of agony I can’t even comprehend.

“I know,” he says, rising to his feet and wrapping his arms around me. I press my head against his stomach, finding comfort in his solidity. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” Dominic cups my cheeks and leans down to kiss me once. Twice. “Alessa.”

“Dominic.”

He sits beside me again, his hand never leaving mine.

“I know our situation isn’t exactly...family-friendly. This mob thing. The Commission.” His voice grows harder, more determined. “I have enemies who would target you and our child to hurt me, but I will leave that life behind if you want me to.”

“You will?” The offer stuns me.

“In a heartbeat.”

The memory of my mother surfaces. The truth is, no one ever really escapes, do they? The Commission has endless resources to track down anyone who tries to slip away. And if our child grows up defenseless, unaware, vulnerable—just another piece of collateral—I couldn’t live with myself.

Dominic’s position makes it even more dangerous. If word gets out about his child, there will be people lining up to use us against him. Running has been my instinct my entire life—I’ve spent years trying to escape the Cosa Nostra’s grip—but now, I see the value in staying. If I want to protect this child, I can’t afford to be clueless anymore.

“We’re not going anywhere,” I say, the decision solidifying as I speak it. “It’s a cold world out there, Dominic. If we play our cards right this time, maybe we won’t have to run from all of this.”

“Are you sure, Alessa?”

“My mother meant well, but I ended up as someone else’s collateral and lived constantly in fear. Would you want that for our child?”

“I’d prefer it if he knows how to kick ass and protect himself.” A small smile touches his lips. “Or her. I mean, he could be a her.”

“All the more reason why she’ll need to learn how to protect herself.”

“Do you want us to celebrate tonight?”

Dominic parks the car in the driveway of the safehouse, and I freeze at the sight of it. The last time I was here, Raffy was dragging me towards the door before shooting me in the back. A scar I’ll now carry forever.

“It’s going to be a badass scar, Alessa,” Dominic says while helping me into the car earlier. “A great story to tell this kid someday.”

And yes, after a full day of tests, ultrasounds, and consultations with the OB-GYN, it was confirmed that I am indeed carrying a child.

“Six weeks. Maybe six and a half,” the OB-GYN says. “It’s too soon to tell exactly, but your blood test and the transvaginal ultrasound both confirm you’re pregnant, Ms. Russo.”

Dominic hasn’t left my side since the first announcement. He holds my hand the entire time, rubbing it with his thumb, telling me I’m doing great. He listens attentively as the doctors explain which warning signs to watch for and when to schedule follow-up appointments.

We are both quiet when he wheels me out of the hospital. But once we’re alone in the car, he cups my face and kisses me with such intensity I wince at the sudden movement.

“What is it?” I ask between kisses, our mouths moving together, tongues meeting. If not for my wound and the pain, I would take him right here in the parking lot.

Dominic pulls away, catching his breath. “This life takes everything and rips it right out of your fucking hands before you even know it’s gone. But you? I’d burn the whole fucking world before I let it take you.”

I swallow the three words that have been threatening to escape since morning, knowing it isn’t the right time with everything happening.

Instead, I answer, “Guess we’ll have to burn it together, then.”

Now here we are sitting in his car, the engine still humming.

“I mean, you’re pregnant and you’re alive,” Dominic says with an uncharacteristic nervousness that makes me raise an eyebrow. This man is many things—stubborn, ruthless, sometimes an asshole—but nervous? That’s new territory. “Don’t you think that’s something to celebrate?”

“It is,” I answer, reaching for his hand on the gear stick. “But let’s celebrate when all of this is over, okay? When you officially become a made man.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re moving into my bedroom tonight, and I can have someone whip up a mocktail for us.”

“Can we fuck?” I smirk playfully, biting my lower lip. He chuckles at my bluntness. “We can do it slow. I need you.”

“I can’t do slow. Not with you, baby.” His voice drops, sending heat straight to my core. “But I can make you come as many times as you’d like.”

He leans toward me, tilting my chin up for a kiss so deep it steals my breath. This man will be the death of me.

“I’ll take it.”

“Good girl.”

Dominic unbuckles, the click of his seatbelt cutting through the moment. A heartbeat later, my door opens, and he’s there—solid, steady. His hands find me, firm but gentle as he helps me out, adjusting his grip to keep pressure off my wound.

“Hey, Dominic?” My body hums as I lean against him.

“Yes, baby?”

“After we settle in, I want to see my father, okay?”

I feel him stiffen at my words, our progress toward the house momentarily halted. But then he exhales, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Tomorrow, okay? You need to rest.”

“Tomorrow,” I agree.

For the first time in my life, I have something to lose—and something to fight for. Something worth staying for instead of running. Something more valuable than pride or independence or even revenge.

Family. My family. Growing inside me and standing beside me.

And God help anyone who tries to take it away.