by Cora Reilly
“I don’t see them very often,” I said. “But of course they asked me about the gender. Your father didn’t seem very happy when I told him I didn’t want to know.”
“Men. I’m really surprised Dante isn’t more interested in finding out if he’ll have an heir soon. But he’s always been laid-back about these things. Many men would have found a way to produce an heir elsewhere if their wife was infertile, but Dante never blamed Carla. He stood by her even when our father urged him to find a mistress to impregnate.”
“That’s horrible,” I said. There was still an odd pressure in my lower abdomen, but it seemed to get better now that we weren’t walking so much anymore.
“It is. Father suggested Dante and Carla could bring up the child as their own, but Dante refused to do it.”
“Maybe because he worried it was him who didn’t deliver,” Bibiana said quietly. I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about this in public. Dante wouldn’t be happy if he found out. Of course, now we knew that it must have been Carla who was infertile, even if Dante and I hadn’t talked about it again since our major fight.
“So what do you say?” Bibi asked with a bright smile, still holding up that onesie with the cute quote.
I nodded with a resigned smile. “Okay. I’ll get it. Even if I’m having a boy, maybe next time it’ll be a girl, so it’s not like I’m wasting money.”
Ines touched my belly lightly. “I can’t wait. Nothing’s better than the scent of a newborn and those tiny toes and fingers.”
“True,” I said as I peered into the stroller where Ines’ little girl was sleeping deeply.
Bibi and I both bought the onesies. Then we said goodbye to Ines, who headed back to her car with her own bodyguard, while Taft trailed after me and Bibi as we walked back to the Mercedes. He pretended he wasn’t there. For which I was grateful. When I was married to Antonio, I often went out of the house on my own, but that was a thing of the past now.
Taft drove us back to my house. Bibi and I wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon together, browsing books with baby names and eating the delicious Italian almond cake Zita had baked this morning.
The slight discomfort in my belly I’d felt all day increased as we walked up the few steps to the front door and entered my home. Taft excused himself quietly and would probably return to the guardhouse now that he was no longer needed. It was quiet in the house, except for the distant rumble of male voices. Dante was probably still in a meeting.
“Come on. Let’s take our purchases upstairs. I want to show you the lamp I bought for the nursery,” I told Bibiana.
I put my foot on the first step and froze. A sharp pain shot through my belly. I dropped the bags I’d been carrying and clutched my stomach immediately as my other hand shot out to hold on to the banister. Something warm trickled down my legs. I looked down my body in horror. My beige pants were quickly turning darker. Did my water just break? It was too soon. Way too soon. It didn’t seem like enough water, but what did I know?
Bibiana let out a shocked cry. I was too stunned to utter a word. “Valentina? Talk to me.”
“It’s too soon,” I said quietly. Fourteen weeks too soon. I began shaking as I clutched my belly.
“You’re bleeding,” Bibiana whispered. She was right. My pants had a light red tinge. My vision swam.
“We need an ambulance,” Bibiana said. Then she shook her head. “We need to call Dante.”
My legs started shaking, and I had to lean against the wall or risk falling. Dante was in an important meeting. And I wasn’t even sure if he wanted this child. He probably still thought I’d cheated on him to conceive. “No, Dante is busy.”
Bibi gave me an incredulous look. “The hell he is. Help! Help!” she started screaming.
I was busy staying on my feet, so I didn’t try to stop her. The door to Dante’s office was ripped open and Dante charged out, gun in hand. My father and Rocco Scuderi were behind him, their own weapons drawn. Dante’s fiery eyes settled on me, and the fury slid off his face and was replaced by panic.
“Valentina?” Dante said as he rushed toward me, already putting his gun back in his holster. “What’s happening?”
“It’s nothing. I didn’t want to disturb your meeting.”
Dante wrapped an arm around my back as my legs gave away. His gaze traveled down my wet pants. I’d never seen that look on his face. Was he really worried about me? I gasped as pain sliced through me again. My father appeared in front of me. “Valentina?”
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Bibiana said sharply.
Dante nodded and lifted me up.
“Your shirt. You’re getting it dirty.”
Dante held me even tighter and carried me outside. At once, Taft and Enzo stormed in our direction. “I want you to make up the front,” Dante ordered. The calm efficiency was replaced by something urgent in his voice. They nodded before they rushed off. My father held open the passenger door of the Mercedes and Dante gently sat me down.
“I’ll get your mother,” Father said as he touched my cheek. “We’ll be in the hospital soon.”
He closed the door, and the moment Dante slipped behind the steering wheel, he revved up the engine and we shot out of the garage and down the driveway. The car with Enzo and Taft waited at the front but shot onto the street when we’d almost reached them.
Dante drove well over the speed limit. Every bump in the street made me wince. The pain wasn’t as strong anymore, now there was only a dull ache, but what if that was a bad sign? “We should have put a towel on the seat. I’m getting it wet,” I said.
Dante glanced my way. “I don’t give a fuck about the seat, or the car, or anything right now. You are all that matters.” He reached out and took my hand, which was resting on my belly. “We’re almost there. Are you in pain?”
“It’s not as bad as before,” I whispered. Then, because I just couldn’t let it drop, “It is your baby, Dante. I never cheated and I never will.”
Dante sucked in his breath. “Is that the reason for this?”
“You think my water broke because I was upset with you?”
“I don’t know.” There was something close to despair on his face. “I’m a fucking bastard, Val. If you lose this child…” He shook his head and focused back on the windshield as we pulled up in front of the hospital entrance. The car with our guards was already there, and so were a doctor and a nurse with a stretcher. Dante jumped out of the car and jogged around the hood to help them get me out of the car. Once I’d lain down on the stretcher, I was rolled into the hospital. Dante never left my side. And he only let go of my hand when he got in the way of the doctors and nurses.
* * *
After hours of ultrasounds, blood work and all kinds of other checkups, I was finally rolled into a room. I was tired and scared, though not as badly as before. Dante settled on the edge of the mattress and brushed a few strands of hair from my face. My eyelids were heavy but I didn’t want to sleep. Dante had talked to the doctors, as I didn’t feel like my brain could follow their explanations right now. “What did they say?” I asked.
“He said you had a preterm rupture of membranes. That’s why you lost some of your amniotic fluid.”
“What does it mean? Do they have to deliver our baby early?” Fear felt like a vice around my throat. It would be too soon. What if I lost our child?
Dante settled himself against the pillow and pulled me against his chest. “No, they don’t. It didn’t rupture completely, but of course there’s a higher risk of an infection now, which is why you’ll have to take antibiotics for a while. You didn’t go into labor, so that’s a plus. They hope to delay the birth until week thirty at least. You’ll have to stay in bed as much as possible and aren’t allowed to exert yourself in any way.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I just want our baby to be safe.”
“It will be. We won’t let anything happen to her,” Dante said in his calm, soothing voice.
I startled. “Her
?”
Dante nodded. “I asked the doctor. They could see it when they did the ultrasound. It’s a girl.”
I wanted to be happy, and I was. I would love our child no matter if it was a girl or a boy, but I knew what was expected of me. I licked my dry lips, searching Dante’s eyes. “Are you angry because it isn’t a boy? I know you need an heir. Your father—”
Dante cupped my cheek, stopping me from saying more. “I’m happy. I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl. And my father will eventually see reason.”
He sounded honest, but I knew the realities of mob life, and the need for a Made Man to have a boy who could follow in his footsteps, be inducted into the mafia and guarantee the success of the Outfit. A man needed a son to be fully respected by his fellow Made Men. “You don’t have to sugarcoat things for me, Dante. I know how things work in our world.”
Dante pulled back a few inches, eyebrows raised. “I’m not sugarcoating anything. I told you the truth. I’m happy that we’re having a daughter. I’ll be happy about every child we have. I’m not going to lie—many people in the Outfit will see it as something less desirable. They will only really congratulate me once you’re pregnant with a boy, but I don’t care about them. You’re still young, and we have time. We’ll have more children and maybe there’ll be a boy among them. But for now let’s be happy about our daughter.”
“Are you happy?” I asked, already getting teary again. That was the one thing I hated most about being pregnant: my loss of self-control when it came to my emotions, especially my tears. “Since I told you I was pregnant, you never once asked about the baby. You pretended it wasn’t there. You made me feel horrible for something that should have been cause for joy. Why did you change your mind? Because I almost lost our baby?”
“I didn’t change my mind. I’ve been happy about your pregnancy for a while now.”
I gave him a doubtful look. “That’s not what I saw.”
“I’m good at hiding my thoughts and emotions,” Dante said regretfully. “But I shouldn’t have done it in this case. You are right, I ruined your first weeks of pregnancy for you. All because I was too proud to admit I’d been wrong.”
I waited patiently for him to say more. I wasn’t ready to accept his unspoken apology yet.
Dante rested his palm lightly on my stomach. “You were right during our fight after you told me about your pregnancy. I never wanted Carla to see a doctor about her inability to conceive because I didn’t want to find out it was me who was infertile. I’m a proud man, Val. Too proud, and somehow I had convinced myself that I couldn’t become Capo if I found out I was incapable of getting my wife with child. I would have been half a man.”
“No, you wouldn’t. But I understand where you’re coming from. But if that’s the case, then why weren’t you elated when I told you I was pregnant with your child? After all, that meant you weren’t infertile. Shouldn’t you have been proud?”
Dante’s smile was solemn. “Yes, I suppose I should have been.” He paused, and I gave him the time he needed to figure out his next words. I had a feeling he’d share something very personal with me. “But when you told me about your pregnancy, it almost felt like an attack on Carla’s memory, as if you were blaming Carla for her inability to give me children by getting pregnant so quickly.”
“I never wanted to attack your wife,” I said, horrified. “I know you loved her more than anything. I knew it before we married, and you never let me forget it in all the time we’ve been together.” The last part came out more accusatory than intended.
“I know,” Dante said, his cool blue eyes tracing my face. “I treated you badly. You did nothing to deserve it. When you gave yourself to me for the first time, I should have held you afterward. It would have been the decent, the honorable thing to do. Instead, I left. I didn’t want to allow myself to be close to you. I’d allowed myself to love once, and after I had to watch Carla die a slow, horrible death, I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t let a woman into my life again.”
I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry for what happened to Carla. I’m sorry you had to watch her die.”
Dante’s eyes were distant. He wasn’t crying. I didn’t think he’d ever allow himself to do so in front of anyone, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes that tore at me. “I killed her.”
I jerked in his embrace, my eyes wide. “You did what? But I thought she died from cancer.”
“She would have, yes. The doctors said there was nothing they could do for her. She was home, drugged up most days so she wasn’t in too much pain, but even the morphine eventually didn’t help anymore. She asked me to help her, to free her from the horror that her life had become. She didn’t want to spend more weeks bound to her bed, unable to get out and wracked by pain.” He paused, and I was openly crying, even if he couldn’t. I pressed my hand against his chest, trying to show him that it was okay, that I understood. “She wanted me to shoot her because she thought it would be easier for me, less personal. I couldn’t do it. Not like that. Not the same way I dealt with traitors and scum that wasn’t even worth the dirt under her feet. I injected her insulin, and she fell asleep in my arms and never woke up again.”
“I didn’t know. I was always told that she died because her organs failed in the end.”
His eyes settled on me, dark and haunted. He brushed his thumb under my eyes, wiping away my tears. “That’s what I wanted. I never told anyone.”
I shivered against him, too overwhelmed to say anything. I buried my face in his neck, seeking his warmth and scent. His hand rubbed gentle circles on my stomach. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have pushed you so much.”
“Val, you didn’t push me. When I married you I made a vow to take care of you and try to be a good husband, and I don’t take my vows lightly. I’m a man of honor, and yet I didn’t fulfill the promises I made to you.”
“Why did you ever agree to marry if you knew how hard it would be for you?”
“My father wanted me to marry, and I knew I was starting to look weak because I couldn’t move on from Carla, so I did what I thought would be best for my claim to power. You seemed like the perfect choice.”
The way he said it made it sound as if I wasn’t, but I didn’t interrupt him.
“I thought you’d be reluctant to allow closeness so shortly after your first husband died.”
The mention of Antonio tightened my throat, but I swallowed past it. “I would have if we’d been in love, or had had anything resembling a real marriage.”
“I’m not blaming you for wanting something real after how Antonio used you. Which makes it even worse that you married another man who used you for his own purposes.” He let out a low breath.
“So when you decided to marry me, you never intended to sleep with me?”
Dante laughed darkly. “I’m not that honorable. No, I thought I’d consummate our marriage and then sleep with you whenever I felt like it, without any kind of emotional attachment.”
“Then why didn’t you sleep with me on our wedding night or in the days after?”
“I wanted to. When I brought you into my bedroom on our wedding night, I wanted nothing more than to rip your gown off and bury myself in you. I was angry. I wanted to fuck you until I got that anger out of my system, but then you stepped out of the bathroom in that modest silk nightgown looking every bit the lady, and you were my wife, and you had that fucking hopeful and insecure look in your eyes, and I knew I couldn’t use you like that.”
My lips parted in surprise. “Did you suspect that I had never slept with a man?”
Dante shook his head. “No. I could tell you were unpracticed in your advances and attempts at seducing me, but I guessed your first husband had been dominant in the bedroom and didn’t let you take the initiative, although it didn’t match up with my assessment of Antonio.”
“Was I that bad at trying to seduce you?” I asked with a small, embarrassed laugh. It felt incredible talking to Dante like this, so openly, and be
ing in his arms without him trying to pull back was even better.
Dante’s lips curled into a wry smile. “I’m a man who prides himself on his self-control. Believe me, most men wouldn’t have been able to resist your charm. To be honest, when I found out I would be your first, I had an even harder time holding back. It’s probably a male thing, but I wanted to put my claim on you.”
“That sounds very animalistic.”
“It is. Before I married you, I didn’t want an inexperienced bride, but once I knew the truth about you, I had a hard time thinking about anything else other than making you mine.” Dante’s eyes darted to my round belly where his hand was still resting. “And the knowledge that you’re carrying my baby makes me proud, though it really isn’t something that should cause that notion in me. After all, it’s not a great achievement to impregnate your wife.”
I shook my head with a smile that slowly died on my lips as my eyes sought out Dante’s. “I love this. I love talking to you like a real husband and wife. Please don’t pull back from me again. I can’t go back to being lonely.”
Dante cupped my cheek. “I won’t. Today was the wake-up call I needed. I’ll try to be the best husband I can possibly be, which probably is still much less than you deserve. I’m not an emotional man, and I hate public displays of affection, but I won’t go back to ignoring you. That I can promise.”
I kissed him. “Thank you.”
We lay in silence beside each other until I felt our daughter move. I quickly shifted Dante’s hand so he could feel it too. He stilled.
“Do you feel her moving?”
Dante nodded. He didn’t say anything, but I knew this time it wasn’t because he was unaffected by what was happening. Smiling, I put my head back down on his shoulder.
“When can I return home?”
“Tomorrow. They want to keep you overnight.”