Stolen Wife

by Carina Blake

  “Are you considered a suspect in his murder?”

  “No, and I shouldn’t be. I wasn’t even here when he initially disappeared. I’d been on a month-long business trip in Africa with my wife. I didn’t have a hand in his death, but I’m not in the least bit sorry he’s gone. Now, that’s all I’m going to say. The rest speaks for itself.” I spin on my heel and start toward the house.

  “Just one more question...” I pause and turn back around. “Do you have a clue who did it?”

  “No, I don’t. He had a lot of enemies. I wouldn’t put it past anyone, but they deserve a fucking medal in my opinion. Have a great day.”

  “Congratulations on your new son.”

  “Thank you.” Giada hadn’t gotten pregnant right away. I wasn’t surprised that it took several months because she’d been malnourished for months, but Giada worried there was more to it. After seeing the doctor and reading up on all the medical articles and journals, we learned that after stopping birth control it can be hard to get pregnant right away. Since she hadn’t taken it for more than a year, we didn’t have to wait that long for the news that she was having my baby. Two days ago she gave birth and now my wonderful tiny family is resting. I think it’s time I joined them.

  “Martin, I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the day.”

  He grins, knowing that I’m greedy to hold my son. My father missed these moments, and I don’t want to take them for granted. “Yes, sir. What about dinner?”

  “I’ll ask Giada what she wants. She needs her strength back.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll let Rita know, but I can’t promise she’s not going to sneak up to see the little guy.”

  “I know. I’m sure my mom is already up there with Giada.” He nods and walks away.

  I open the bedroom door to see Giada on the bed, glowing as she nestles our son to her breast. My mother turns to look at me, and tears roll down her face. I walk over to her and pull her into my arms. “You look so much like your father. Sometimes it takes me by surprise. He’d be so proud of you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m going to give you some time alone. I made Martin promise to take me to lunch.”

  “Sounds great. Take extra security.”

  “I will.” She gives me a kiss and then leaves the room, closing the door. I direct my attention back to my wife.

  “How are you feeling, tesoro?”

  “I’m wonderful. Even the residual pain can’t bring me down. Is everything okay?”

  I kick off my shoes and climb onto the bed next to her. “Yes, I spoke to the reporters.” I brush my baby boy’s tiny fingers, amazed at this little miracle we made together.

  “I’m sure they were itching for a story.”

  “Of course. I gave them a little to stir the pot, but nothing to bring them back to us. I hope they don’t darken our doorstep with their bright lights and greed for gossip.”

  “I’m glad it was you. I probably would have bitten their heads off.”

  “You’re a sweetheart, but even you can’t hold back on your hate for him.”

  “Any news on his other son?”

  “Yes, Marie’s mother has custody of him. I’m going to see if we can liquidate all of Marchetti’s assets and then give it to them. It’s hard because he used a lot of it to pay his lawyers.”

  “Well, I know that we don’t owe the boy anything, but I’d like to do something for him. It’s not his fault he got stuck with a shitty family.”

  “You have the heart of an angel. I was thinking the same. I’m planning on setting up a small trust that he’ll have access to when he reaches twenty-one.”

  “That sounds so wonderful. Have you ever met him?”

  “No, but I hope he’s going to be okay. I’d hate it if he fell into the same path as Rafael.”

  “Me too. It’s possible with the right role models that he can have a good normal life.”

  “Have you spoken to his grandparents?”

  “Yes, but they stopped talking to Marie two years ago when Rafael threatened them.”

  “Oh.”

  “They want him to stay completely out of the family business. Marie had been naïve and impressionable when she ran off at sixteen to New York, but Cara Mia, let’s just focus on our little guy for now. I don’t want these memories tainted with the past.”

  “Of course, my love, but someone is sleeping.” She pulls him off her breast and covers herself up, to my disappointment. I love seeing her tits, which have grown even more as they fill with milk. “Getting your fill?”

  “Not yet, but I suppose you can cover those delicious mounds.” I drop my head and kiss her lips. “I love you so much, Giada. Thank you for my son and your love.”

  “I wouldn’t be here without you.” She softly chokes back tears.

  It breaks my heart to see her cry. “I would have come for you even if it wasn’t that night.”

  She mumbles under her breath, but I slide my hand under her chin and lift it to my gaze. I want to hear what she has to say. “What was that?”

  “It would have been too late. I mean that in all seriousness. If you hadn’t kidnapped me from my room, they would have killed me. They told me that very day that if I got my period again, I’d come up missing. So every day I thank goodness that you had fallen for me.”

  In that moment, I realized how lucky I’d truly been. I can’t even fathom the thought that I could have been too late. There’s no way I can picture my life without her. “I won’t let anyone take you from me. Ever.”

  Giada

  Four years later

  I breathe in the warm, fresh breeze as the sun sets. Texas, I think I’m in love. It’s so wonderful here. I’m so glad Santino took us away from New York and moved his company headquarters to just outside of Houston. His mother lives on the same plot of land, but in her own home. With baby number three on the way, we need all the space we can get. Michael, Carlotta, and soon-to-be-born Gio are our loves. I rub my belly, feeling his little foot destroy my abdomen. It’s amazing and painful at the same time.

  I feel Santino’s hands slide around my waist from behind, closing over my own hand. “Sorry, tesoro. I wish I could take the pain away.”

  “It’s fine. You know I love carrying your babies.”

  “Still. You should be pampered.”

  “I hardly do anything, my dear husband,” I say, lifting up onto my toes to kiss his chin. “I love this scruff.”

  “Maybe we should go inside, and you can show me how much you love it.”

  “Now that’s a fabulous idea, Mr. Benedetti.” Before I can react, Santino swoops me up into his arms, cradling me as he marches back into the house. We make it through the door when his phone rings. “Give me one minute,” he growls, setting me down on the settee in the foyer.

  “Hello, Mom,” he answers on speaker.

  “Santino, you need to come quick. Michael cut himself and we need to take him to the hospital.” I’m off the settee, grabbing my purse. I have to get to my babies.

  “Shit, we’re on our way. Call an ambulance,” he barks in fear. My heart starts jumping out of my chest and my stomach hurts. The pain is different and yet all too familiar. I hope we make it to the hospital before things accelerate into a full blown labor.

  “I did.”

  “Is it bad?” I shout over Santino’s arm as we run out of the house.

  “He’s going to need stitches,” my mother-in-law says.

  We get to the house in less than two minutes and they’re bringing Michael out. Santino scoops him up and sits on the porch to look at the cut on his leg. “How are you, my baby boy?”

  He frowns and points to the bandage. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I wanted to be a big boy, but it hurts.” He sobs against Santino’s chest.

  “It’s my fault. I went to help Carlotta with mixing the cookie dough and I turned my back for a minute.” She’s crying hysterically and Martin is carrying Carlotta outside. “Michael knocked the bowl down.” Sh
e’s crying too. We’re all a mess as we wait for the ambulance.

  “Maybe we should just take him in ourselves,” I suggest, rubbing my hands together, wringing them while looking at the large grove of trees that lead to the main road. Damn it, where are they?

  Seeing my panic-stricken face, Santino nods. “Yes, we’re going to take him in.” Just as he says it, the ambulance comes down the drive.

  “What do we have here?”

  “He broke Grandma’s favorite bowl and was punished for it,” Carlotta’s three-year-old mouth says. I close my eyes, hoping that they don’t take it like she hurt him intentionally.

  “Oh, I know. Well, I cut myself two months ago. I leave the cooking to my wife,” he tells her.

  “That’s smart,” she informs the medic.

  “Okay, let’s see how bad this is.” They take off the bandage and the cut is pretty rough looking. “Well, it’s not as bad as it could be, but he’s going to need stitches. Do you want to ride in an ambulance?” he asks Michael.

  “With my mommy and daddy?”

  He looks at both of us and then notices my large belly. “I don’t think it’s very comfortable for your mommy, but maybe your dad could ride with you.”

  “I’ll take them in the truck,” Martin says.

  “Is that okay, tesoro?” Santino asks, staring into my eyes.

  “Yes, please just get him to the hospital already so I can stop freaking out.”

  Before we move away from the porch, they re-bandage his leg with fresh gauze. I go to give him a kiss, and a popping sound is heard, a flow of rushing water follows. “Oh no.”

  “It looks like Mommy’s going to the hospital in the ambulance, but she’s going to need the bed. Is that okay?” Michael nods, trying to be a big, brave boy.

  “Mommy’s peeing. Bad Mommy. That’s not good even outside. Especially for a girl.”

  I double over, and Santino’s rubbing my back. The time has come for the next little Benedetti.

  “We’ll follow you guys to the hospital with Carlotta.”

  “Thank you.” They load us into the ambulance. Santino’s holding Michael while his leg rests on the edge of the stretcher. I’m lying on it in almost a sitting position. They call out to the hospital and inform them of the situation.

  “How far along are you?”

  “Thirty-eight weeks,” Santino answers as the first contraction hits me.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mama.”

  “Thank you, big boy.”

  Santino

  I want to be by Giada’s side, but I can’t leave Michael alone. Yet, the contractions are coming quick. Thankfully, they give Michael four stitches and then I carry him out to Grandma and Martin. “I have to go to Giada.” I kiss my kids’ foreheads and run back to the labor and delivery room.

  I just make it inside to hold her hand for the most crucial moment. “I’m sorry. I love you so much, but I couldn’t leave Michael.”

  “No, I know. You’re a wonderful husband and fatherrrr,” she cries out the last part as she pushes our son’s shoulders out. A loud wail from between her legs echoes in the room and causes my heart to squeeze. I love watching my babies come into this world by my queen.

  “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Benedetti. You have a big baby boy with an apparently healthy set of lungs.”

  They place Gio on Giada’s chest, and it never ceases to amaze me how lucky I am. “I have a feeling this one is going to give us trouble.”

  “He’s definitely going to keep us on our toes.” They take Gio to clean him off. Smiling and watching them work, I add, “I’d have it no other way.” I kiss her lips, wondering if I should tell her that Carlotta told the whole ER that her mama peed on herself and needs a timeout.

  “By the way, is Carlotta shouting out to everyone that I peed on myself?”

  “How did you know?” The little girl’s a chatterbox with no off switch. I love her to pieces. She’s what I imagine Giada would have been if she’d been given the proper love a child should have.

  “She could never be in the mafia. She has no filter at all.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  THE END