Owned by the mafia boss

MIA

I was pregnant.

While Alessio was gone, I took a test. The trauma doctor wanted me on an antibiotic, and he asked for a urine sample to make sure I wasn’t expecting and bingo. If I tracked our conception to our wedding day, I was six weeks along. The transvaginal ultrasound had detected a faint heartbeat.

I was having Alessio’s baby.

He had no idea.

I hadn’t said a word because the doctor told me not to get attached. It could’ve been an early miscarriage. I didn’t want to get his hopes up if I lost the baby.

I’d tell him later, when the pregnancy was a sure thing. All I thought about from the ride to the airport to the Airbnb we’d checked into was that I carried our future inside me. I was happy, but mostly I was scared.

What if I lost the pregnancy?

What if he didn’t love me?

We strolled the quiet streets of Portland, caught in a freezing mist that beaded the umbrella. Alessio’s hand squeezed. The sensation filled my body with a blazing heat that flooded my cheeks.

He kissed my head. “Do you think Portland has decent Italian?”

“Is that what you want when you’re on holiday?”

“I go to Italy for vacation.”

“You’re just like my dad,” I snorted. “He has no interest in anything that’s not Italian. Live a little. Venture out of your comfort zone and eat a crêpe.”

“I have. They’re called crespellas.” Alessio laughed when I groaned.

I learned more about him six hours into this trip than I had in weeks.

Alessio obviously didn’t appreciate West Coast food culture and shook his head at the political signs posted on people’s lawns. The coffee wasn’t dark enough for his liking, but he enjoyed the milder weather. We stopped at a pizza restaurant. A deep frown wrinkled his forehead when he read the cashew and corn special on the chalkboard.

I forced him to buy two slices. He declared it inedible after finishing three-quarters of his piece. Pizza restaurant aside, it was fun sampling Portland’s many delights with my husband. He perked up when we hit our first brewery because the LCD screens played a Real Madrid game, and apparently, Alessio was a soccer fan. He nursed an IPA and hissed abuse at the goalkeeper as I sipped my water. When the match ended, Alessio’s amused gaze dragged across the rustic bar and settled on me.

“Do you think you would’ve liked it here? If you’d followed through with your plans?”

“Yeah. It’s a smaller city, but the people are super friendly. Everything’s more relaxed, and it seems like a good place to-”

Raise a family. Shit.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

Not here.

“What about you? Would you live here?”

Alessio shook his head. “It’s too weird.”

“Don’t tell me cashew on pizza made you write off Portland.”

“Out of everything I’ve seen today, that was hands down the most egregious. Worse than the vegan strip club.”

“Why did you suggest going, then?”

“Because.” He kissed my temple. “I knew you wanted to take in all the strange sights. I’m happy to tag along.”

“Next time we’ll visit somewhere you like.”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m with you, I’m having a ball.”

A lump lodged in my throat, rising with it the threat of tears.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing.” I bit my lip, barely keeping it together. “Can we go back to the house?”

We zipped to the rental home I’d insisted on getting instead of a hotel, and I dabbed my eyes the whole way. Alessio frowned at my on again, off again crying jags. The lack of control frustrated me. Every feeling in my heart wanted out, especially my love for Alessio.

Alessio snapped the door to the cottage and hung our jackets, his weight creaking the old wooden floorboards. He strolled into the bedroom and tugged his jeans off his muscled thighs. He sprawled on the mattress, a lazy smile staggering over his face.

He beckoned me. “Come here.”

I joined him, nuzzling his neck. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I didn’t think it could be this simple.” Alessio made a rumbling growl of deep contentment as I sank into his arms. “Getting out changed everything.”

He was already connecting the dots himself.

I beamed. “It’s been nice to have you to myself.”

“You’re different.”

I love you. “Life would be amazing if we left Boston.”

“It only feels that way because you’re away from your problems.”

“Alessio, we’re free. We can do what we want without worrying about Costas or the gangs.”

“Those issues will exist wherever we go.”

That wasn’t true. “We could have this happiness all the time.”

He hardened. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t feed those fantasies. We’re not an ordinary couple. You can’t expect to have the same marriage as everyone else.”

“What if I can’t live without certain things?”

“Like?”

“Love.”

Alessio pushed himself upright and cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his head. I curved my finger around his jaw until he looked at me. I’d never seen so much vulnerability.

“I’m trying to tell you that-”

An ear-splitting chime shattered the air.

Alessio lunged for his phone and jumped out of bed. “Michael, hey. No, it’s fine. What’s the matter? What?”

I sat up straight as his gaze flicked at me.

“Nico’s been arrested.”