by Reilly, Cora
Soft laughter bubbled out of Aria, her pale cheeks flushing. “Oh Luca, don’t tell me you are jealous of my doctor?”
“You know I’m a possessive bastard. Why does that still surprise you?”
She shook her head. “Can you help me stand?”
I straightened and lifted her to her feet, supporting her weight. She swayed lightly. “We’re going to that Dr. Max now. I want to have a word with him.”
“Luca,” Aria chided. “I won’t go if it’s only so you can intimidate my doctor.”
“Not only to intimidate. I also want to know why he isn’t capable of stopping you from losing weight.”
“Some things can’t be changed, Luca. Pregnancy isn’t something you can influence. You have to trust in my body.”
I trusted Aria, and I loved her body, but it was obvious that she needed help. I was used to finding a solution to problems, and if I wasn’t able to find a solution myself, I forced people to find one for me—and I was going to make Dr. Brightley see what kind of man he was messing with.
“I need a shower but I’m worried I’ll faint,” Aria said. I led her toward the shower, then turned on the water and waited until it turned warm before I gently led Aria inside and took the shampoo. I squirted a small amount on my palm, but Aria shook her head. “That’s not enough.”
“That’s double of what I’m using,” I said.
Her eyes darted up to my short hair. “If I had short hair like yours, I’d need less shampoo as well.”
“No,” I said with more force than intended.
She rolled her eyes but I could tell that she still didn’t feel well. I doubled the shampoo amount and began massaging it into Aria’s hair. I loved her blonde strands, but cleaning them was a hell of a bother. In the time it took to get every trace of shampoo out, I would have been dressed and on my way to the doctor, but I enjoyed touching her like that. Aria closed her eyes as the warm water streamed down her face, and again my eyes slid lower to the proof of her pregnancy. “How far along are you?”
“Fourteen weeks,” Aria murmured as she glanced up at me. I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. A pregnancy took nine months; that was pretty much all I knew. I wrapped her in it then lifted her out of the shower, careful not to hit her head on the glass.
“I can still walk,” she said with a smile, but I carried her back into the bedroom and set her down on the bench in front of our bed. I took my time drying her, enjoying the feel of her soft skin as my fingertips brushed over it. To think that I had denied myself this for so long.
“Do you know what it is?” I asked, trying to keep my voice relaxed even if the thought that Aria had found out without me at her side felt like a stab to the heart.
“No,” she said softly, raking her fingers through my wet hair. “It’s probably still too soon and I didn’t want to know. I’d hoped we could find out together.” Her voice broke, and I pressed my forehead against her bare thigh. She smelled faintly of vanilla and Aria’s very own clean sweetness.
“We will. I will be there for you every step of the way from now on, I swear.”
I felt Aria nod and when I looked up, she was crying again. “Aria,” I said in a pained voice. “Why are you crying again?”
I hated to see her tears. They made me feel like a monster because I knew I was the reason.
“I’m being emotional because of the hormones, Luca, that’s all.” She tried a smile but it came off shaky. “The due date is in July.”
Five and a half months to go. Suddenly, images of my own father popped up, uninvited and unpleasant. I had few good memories of the man. Matteo and I had definitely never loved him. He hadn’t been what anyone would consider a good father, not even in our world. How was I supposed to be a father to our child? Aria, she was a natural caretaker, but I was a destroyer, a killer.
Those thoughts tormented me as I helped Aria get dressed. She chanced the occasional glance at me, obviously picking up on my mood. Insecurity filled her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, principessa,” I told her, linking our fingers.
She gave a hesitant nod. “You don’t look happy.”
“I’m happy that you are pregnant, Aria, trust me,” I said firmly. I raised our linked hands and kissed her palm. “How could I not be happy about a small version of you?”
Her expression relaxed. “It could be a boy, then it would be a small version of you.”
My stomach tightened. I knew Made Men, especially a Capo, were supposed to produce an heir, but I didn’t want a son. With a son the chances that I’d act like my father to make the boy strong were too great. I didn’t want to become like him. Again Aria picked up on my hesitation, and frowned at me. Fuck. She knew me too well.
“You want a girl?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. There was no sense in pretending I didn’t care about the gender.
She searched my face as if the answers to her questions were hidden there. “Are you worried you won’t be able to love a son like a daughter?”
“I’ll love our child no matter the gender because it’s your flesh and blood, Aria. But with a boy, I’d need to think of his future.” I didn’t say more, didn’t want to elaborate. There was no use in discussing this when we didn’t even know if it was a boy.
“We should head out now,” I said, tugging her along. My grip on her tightened when she swayed again, and I pulled her against me as I led her out of our bedroom and downstairs. The first floor was deserted. Matteo had probably gone in search of Gianna.
“Does Gianna know about your pregnancy?” I asked as I led Aria toward my new black Mercedes G-Class parked in the driveway. I’d bought it to distract myself. Of course it hadn’t worked.
“She and Lily…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“And Romero,” I finished.
Worry filled her face. “I needed to involve him so he could guard me when I went to the gynecologist. I knew you would have hated it if I’d gone there without protection, and I couldn’t ask Sandro. He would have told you right away.”
I nodded as I held the door open for her. I’d have to have a talk with Romero anyway. She slipped in, but not without another worried look. “Don’t be mad at him. He helped me a lot. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
I stifled my anger. It wasn’t directed at Aria, not even at Romero. She shouldn’t have been forced to rely on Romero in the first place. I closed the door, walked around the hood and climbed behind the steering wheel.
Aria fell asleep during the drive back to New York and I let her. She looked exhausted. With her shirtdress, her bump wasn’t noticeable, and yet my eyes kept returning to the spot.
After I’d parked the car in a loading zone, I woke Aria. She sat up, startled. Her eyes took in our surroundings. “Are we already in Manhattan?”
“You slept through the ride,” I told her.
“Sorry.” She peered out of the window. “Are you sure we won’t get towed?”
“Yes,” I said. I got out, catching the eye of the restaurant owner whose loading zone I was barring. He recognized me. He paid us for protection.
I helped Aria out of the car and took her hand. She stiffened her spine, holding her head high. This was the public. Aria knew what was expected of both of us. We could always be followed by paparazzi. Usually my contacts checked in with me before photos got published, but I preferred not to have compromising photos in the first place. The Dante/Aria fiasco had been bad enough, and still made my blood boil.
“I hope Dr. Brightley has time for us,” Aria said as I followed her toward a building with several doctors for all kind of medical problems. That way at least people wouldn’t suspect Aria was pregnant. I didn’t want word to get out so soon, and if possible never. We were at war and children were too vulnerable. It was bad enough that Dante knew about the pregnancy, but I needed to keep it a secret from our other enemies, and that meant we would have to make sure t
here was never a press photo of Aria pregnant or with our child. I’d move heaven and earth to guarantee their safety.
When we stepped into the reception area of the practice, the eyes of the receptionist snapped toward us, widening when she took me in. Of course she knew me. I darted a look toward the closed door of the waiting room to our right. I wasn’t keen on other patients seeing us here and spreading rumors. We stepped toward the reception.
“Mrs. Vitiello, we didn’t expect you today,” the receptionist piped up.
“I reckon that won’t be a problem,” I said with a closed-lipped smile that always had the same effect on people. Aria’s cheeks turned red.
The receptionist blinked up at me, then quickly looked away, paling. “Uhh, of course. I’ll just have to check with Dr. Brightley first. We have quite a few patients in the waiting room. Perhaps you can sit down until I call you.”
“No,” I said. “You certainly understand that I don’t want to draw attention to my wife and me. I trust you’ll honor our wish for secrecy.” The smile got wider but my eyes narrowed.
She nodded and waved at another woman who was dressed in a bluish nurse’s uniform. “Can you please take Mr. and Mrs. Vitiello to a treatment room?”
After one glance at me, the nurse scurried off and opened a door for us. We stepped through and she closed the door behind us, giving us privacy. Aria turned to me with an exasperated expression. “Luca, did you have to be so…” She waved a hand in my direction as if that said it all.
“So?” I echoed.
“So dominant,” she finished before she sank down on one of the two chairs in front of a white desk. The other furniture in the room was the chair that no man ever wanted to see close up with its strange metallic leg holders, and a pallet with an ultrasound machine beside it.
I cocked an eyebrow.
Aria shook her head. “Never mind.”
I moved to her side but didn’t sit down. My surroundings made me prefer to stand.
“Luca,” she began. “Dr. Brightley is very upfront. I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and act all Capo.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply because the door opened and a tall figure stepped in, a woman with short brown hair and glasses. Dr. Brightley, her name tag read. I sent Aria a look, and she smiled innocently. The doctor approached me without hesitation or initial shock. Her receptionists must have warned her. I accepted her outstretched hand, surprised by her firm grip. If she’d been a man, I would have answered with my own version of a strong grip. “I’m Dr. Brightley, and you must be the elusive father, Mr. Vitiello.” Her words were clipped, her smile disapproving.
I gave her a tight smile. “You must be the doctor incapable of helping my wife,” I said in a deadly voice.
Aria rose from her chair and stepped up to us to shake Dr. Brightley’s hand. “What he means is that I still can’t keep any food in me.”
Dr. Brightley frowned, her eyes checking Aria from head to toe. “Have you lost weight since the last time we saw each other?”
Aria nodded. “Not much.”
“You are underweight, Mrs. Vitiello,” she said with a sigh before she leveled her gaze on me. “Sadly, my options are limited. I could give your wife an infusion to improve her nutrient supply but apart from that, there’s little I can do.” She turned back to Aria. “Your sickness could be related to emotional stress, have you considered that?”
Aria blanched, and I tensed. Had Aria talked to the doctor about our personal problems? Her eyes met mine and she gave a small shake of her head to tell me she hadn’t. The doctor must have based her assumption on me missing the previous appointments. Regret left a bitter taste in my mouth. I met the doctor’s gaze, my face a mask of calm. It wasn’t her business what went on behind closed doors.
“I don’t think it’s that,” Aria said quietly but firmly. She took my hand and I squeezed lightly in return. “We wanted to find out the sex of our baby today, if possible?”
Dr. Brightley nodded. “Please unbutton your dress and lie down on the bench. I can’t promise you anything since it’s still early.”
When the doctor began the ultrasound, I felt fucking nervous. I held Aria’s hand but my eyes were focused on the ultrasound screen. I didn’t see much at first, only unidentifiable shapes in gray and black which shifted constantly, but then suddenly a face became distinguishable. A perfect little face. Nose, ears, lips. Next the doctor showed us the hands, ten tiny fingers, and feet. I couldn’t believe a fully formed human, our child, was inside Aria. The doctor zoomed in on the area between the child’s legs and smiled. “I can’t be entirely sure until later in the pregnancy, but it looks like a girl.”
I almost sagged with relief. A girl. A little version of Aria. Not a boy who would harbor my darkness, a darkness I would have to encourage to help him survive in the Famiglia.
Aria squeezed my hand and I turned to her. She smiled. I gave her a small nod, feeling the eyes of the doctor on me. “It would be good if your wife got as much relaxation as possible. The baby is still growing but if she keeps losing weight, we might have to admit her to the hospital to be safe.”
I gave a terse nod. “She will gain weight, don’t worry.”
We headed to our penthouse after the appointment. Aria was too tired for the hour-long drive back to the Hamptons, and I had a feeling she wanted to return to our apartment. She had spent almost all of her time in the Hamptons over the last few weeks.
I could tell how happy she was to be back as she strode out onto the rooftop and let her gaze glide over the skyline. I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, still stunned by her bump. “How about we order sushi and lounge on the couch?”
She gave me a look. “Sushi? Aren’t your forgetting something?” She rested her hand over mine.
I didn’t get it.
She laughed. “Men are so clueless. I’m not allowed to eat raw fish or raw meat, and it’s best not to order anything uncooked in case the restaurant doesn’t wash their products enough.”
“If I told them to wash them, they would, trust me,” I said. If something happened to Aria or our daughter because anyone messed up, I’d show them that monsters walked the Earth.
“I know.” She turned around in my embrace, touching my cheek. “My big bad mobster.”
I choked on a laugh. Aria was the only one who would joke about it. I leaned down, making my voice the deadly whisper I used when people displeased me. “I am bad, and worse, I am Capo.”
Aria shivered but definitely not from fear. She wrapped her arms around my middle and pressed her face against my chest. “God, I missed this.”
I stroked her silky hair then followed her spine down to the soft swell of her ass. She shivered again and moved even closer.
“You need to eat,” I said, even if my cock had other plans. She nodded, but didn’t move. “How about pasta? That can’t be bad for the baby, right?”
“Gnocchi à la Genovese for me,” she said without hesitation. “And perhaps one of those delicious almond cakes. You are ordering at Da Daniele’s?”
I smiled. “Of course.”
Forty minutes later we settled on the couch in the living area with our ordered food, Aria in one of my white shirts, and I in only gray sweatpants and a shirt. I opened the boxes and spooned a small heap of gnocchi on Aria’s plate. “Do you want a bite of my ossobuco?”
She eyed the meat then quickly shook her head. “I don’t think I can eat it.”
I held her plate out to her and she took it and settled back against the couch, her bare legs tugged under her body. She smelled her food hesitantly. Watching her, I dug into my own dish.
Aria picked up the fork and took a bite of her gnocchi, then smiled. “It seems okay.”
I was finished with my main course, the focaccia and the tapenade before Aria had even eaten half of her plate and the box was still half full of gnocchi. Feeling my gaze on her, she glanced up. “You don’t have to watch me. I can eat.” She smiled t
o soften her words.
“Not enough,” I said. I stroked her knee. “Come on, principessa. Don’t make me force-feed you.”
She sighed. “I’m worried I’ll get sick if I eat too fast.”
“Perhaps you need to stop worrying about it.” I paused. “Was the doctor right? Did you feel sick because of our fight?”
Aria swallowed another bite before she put down the plate on her lap. “I don’t know. Perhaps? You are the most important person in my life. You are the father of our baby girl and I couldn’t confide in you for so long. It hurt, hurt worse than anything ever had.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. Remorse still was a strange sensation, unfamiliar in my body.
“It was my fault, too, Luca. I should have realized how you’d take my going to Chicago without your permission. As you said, I know what kind of man you are.”
“A possessive, controlling asshole?” And that wasn’t even the worst of my character traits, but Aria knew, she knew and loved me despite it all.
“Yes,” she said with a small smile. “And the man I love with all my heart.” She touched the spot over my heart. “Mine.”
“Only yours. Always.”
She brought another bite of gnocchi to her lips and ate it. Her voice became very soft when she spoke again. “Did you ever waver?”
“Waver?”
“Grace. Or other women.”
Her shoulders were tense.
“No,” I said firmly. “All I could think of was your smile.” And it was the fucking truth. I was completely whipped when it came to Aria.
“And you?” I couldn’t keep the growl out of my voice.
Aria actually threw her head back and laughed her bell-like laugh. She took another bite then filled her plate with the rest of her dish. “I wouldn’t even know how to flirt with a man, Luca. You are the only man I can imagine being close to. It’s like your possessiveness flipped a switch in my brain and made me incapable of tolerating any other man’s closeness.”
I smirked, and Aria huffed. She took another bite. I had to stifle a smile. She didn’t even notice how much she was eating.