It's been three days since I discovered I was pregnant, and I've found myself playing an awkward game of hide-and-seek with my parents around the house. My heart flutters with excitement about the new life growing inside me, but that joy is overshadowed by the dread of my mother's potential reaction and the certainty of my father's insults once the news breaks.

The irony of the situation isn't lost on me. Stefano and I had been careful after our first time together - I got on the pill and even took the morning-after pill as an extra precaution. Yet here I am, apparently that elusive 1% that defies all odds. It's as if fate has a twisted sense of humor, choosing me to be the exception to the rule.

I still can't believe my baby survived the beating. At that early stage, my little angel probably hadn't even fully formed. Despite the circumstances with Stefano, I'm grateful he's the father of my child.

I walk downstairs for dinner after the maid comes to tell me Santiago is here. I'm planning to tell my parents tonight, and I really need his support. Santiago was initially upset that Stefano wasn't more careful, but when I lied to missing a day of my birth control pill, he attributed it to God's will. I know he only said that to make me feel better about my mistake, but I'm genuinely excited to become a mother.

Entering the dining room, I find everyone already seated. "Hello, Mom," I say, kissing her cheek before taking my place opposite her. I nod at my father. "Dad." He grunts in response.

"How are you feeling, Princess?" Mom asks, her voice laced with concern. "I heard you skipped work today because you weren't well."

I cringe inwardly at the childhood nickname. At twenty-three, I suppose I'll always be her little girl. I had hoped to delay this conversation until later in the meal, but it seems God has other plans.

"About that," I begin, my nerves fraying. "There's something I need to tell you and Dad." I glance at Santiago, who nods encouragingly.

"What is it, dear?" Mom prompts, focusing her attention on me. Dad, however, barely acknowledges my presence.

"I'm..." The words stick in my throat, my fingers twisting anxiously in my lap. Mom waits expectantly, her gaze unwavering. It's not her reaction, I fear, but rather the idea of admitting I'm pregnant with the child of a man who left me.

"She's pregnant," Santiago interjects, and I feel a rush of relief.

"Oh, my God! My baby is having a baby!" Mom exclaims, her face lighting up with joy. She gestures for me to come closer, pulling me into a warm embrace.

Dad, however, remains silent. The clatter of his fork hitting the plate is the only indication of his reaction. I look to Santiago, who merely shrugs.

"I'm so happy for you, dear," Mom says, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Thank you..." I start, but I'm cut off by the screech of Dad's chair as he abruptly stands.

I brace myself for insults or backhanded remarks, but his next words catch me completely off guard. "Pack your things. You leave first thing tomorrow morning."

"I shouldn't be surprised you're kicking me out because I'm pregnant," I say bitterly, though a part of me expected a more civil response to the news of his first grandchild.

"Kicking you out?" Dad's brow furrows, and my own confusion grows. "You're taking the jet to Sicily tomorrow. The Costanzo family needs to know you're pregnant with the heir to their empire."

His words hit me like a sledgehammer, and I suddenly remember the gravity of my situation. This isn't just any baby growing inside me—it's the child of the Mafia prince, the future of the Costanzo dynasty. A chill runs through my veins as the reality sinks in. What the hell am I going to do now?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. As much as I dread facing Stefano and his family, I know I have no choice. Dad made it clear that this news has to be delivered in person. The Costanzo family deserves to hear it directly from me that I'm carrying their grandchild.

With a heavy heart and a churning stomach, I take the jet to Sicily, as Dad instructed. Now, here I am, my nerves frayed as the plane begins its descent. I clutch the armrest, bracing myself for the confrontation that awaits me.

During the flight, my mind races with thoughts of how Stefano might react to the news. He claims he doesn't love me anymore, so he probably won't want anything to do with our baby. The thought alone causes my heart to clench painfully in my chest, but I push the ache aside for now. I'll find out soon enough when I see him.

Aurora should be waiting for me at the airport. I didn't tell her the reason for my visit, feeling she also deserved to hear it in person. I can already imagine the joy on her face when I share the news, but I bet her eyes will also hold a glimmer of pity.

As expected, Aurora is there to greet me as I step off the plane. We embrace, exchanging the usual pleasantries, but I can see the questions burning in her eyes. I promise to explain everything once we reach the estate.

The drive passes in a blur of catching up and carefully avoiding the elephant in the room. Before I know it, we arrive at the Costanzo estate, the grand house looming before us. As soon as I sink into the plush couch in the living room, Aurora turns to me, curiosity finally getting the better of her.

"So, what's the reason you're here?" she asks, eager to unravel the mystery.

Taking a deep breath, I let the words tumble out, a smile playing on my lips. "I'm pregnant."

Aurora's eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock. "You're what?" she asks, her face slowly splitting into a grin.

"I'm pregnant," I repeat, savoring the way the words feel on my tongue.

"I heard you the first time," she laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I just couldn't believe it!" She pulls me into a tight hug, her excitement palpable. "I can't believe I'm going to be an aunt. I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you," I say, returning her smile, my heart swelling with gratitude for her support.

As we pull apart, Aurora's expression turns serious. "Have you told Stefano yet?"

I shake my head, a flicker of apprehension in my eyes. "No, I haven't. Please don't tell him. I want him to hear it from me."

"I promise I won't," she assures me, squeezing my hand. "Your secret is safe with me."

Relief washes over me, knowing I can count on Aurora to keep my news under wraps until I'm ready to face Stefano.

***

I pace nervously around Stefano's penthouse, my fingers twisting together as I try to calm my racing heart. I thought telling my parents about my pregnancy was nerve-wracking, but this is a whole new level of anxiety churning inside me.

Stefano refused to see me at his office earlier. I'm sure he assumes I'm here to beg him to take me back, unaware of the real reason I need to speak with him so urgently. Thankfully, with Samuel's help, I was able to get into Stefano's place here in sun-drenched Sicily to wait for his return.

Restless with anticipation, I wander through Stefano's penthouse to pass the time, my heels clicking against the polished floors. Though I've never been here before, I'm eager to drink in every detail of the space he inhabits.

I start in the sleek, modern kitchen, trailing my fingers along the cool marble countertops. Stainless steel appliances gleam under the recessed lighting, everything pristine and precise, much like the man himself. I can almost picture him moving through this space in the early morning hours, espresso in hand as he scans the news on his tablet.

Curiosity propels me onward to his office. Peeking inside, I'm a bit disappointed to find it rather unremarkable. A large mahogany desk dominates the room, flanked by towering bookcases filled with what I assume are business books. The space exudes power and control but reveals little of the complex man behind the impeccable suits and piercing green eyes.

Almost in a trance, I drift up the sweeping staircase to the second floor, the siren song of Stefano's bedroom luring me in. Crossing the threshold, I'm instantly enveloped by his intoxicating scent - a heady fusion of crisp bergamot, smoky sandalwood, and something uniquely him that I've never been able to define but would recognize anywhere.

God, how I've missed that scent. Missed him, if I'm being honest with myself.

Sinking down onto his king-sized bed, I let my fingers dance over the sumptuous charcoal gray duvet, wondering how many nights he's spent tangled in these very sheets. The ache of longing in my chest intensifies, a bittersweet pain I've grown accustomed to since he walked out of my life a months ago.

Being surrounded by Stefano's essence is both a balm and a torment, soothing the ragged edges of my heart while reminding me of everything I've lost. Everything I still desperately crave, even after all this time.

Curling up against his pillow, I breathe him in deeply, letting his familiar scent comfort and ground me. The exhaustion of the last few weeks suddenly crashes over me like a tidal wave, the weight of the secrets I carry pulling me under.

Just a quick nap, I tell myself as my eyelids flutter closed. Just a stolen moment of peace in the eye of the hurricane that is sure to come when Stefano learns the real reason for my visit

Some time later, I wake up to the feeling of fingers caressing my hair and face. My lids flutter open, and I suck in a startled breath to find Stefano himself perched beside me, his chiseled features etched with fatigue and strain.

"Stefano," I gasp, bolting upright, my heart hammering against my ribs. He looks as if he hasn't slept in days, his usually vibrant blue eyes dull and shadowed. Aurora mentioned he's been working himself ragged, ignoring the toll on his health.

Stefano jerks his hand back as if scalded, rising swiftly from the bed, his voice hard and flat. "What are you doing here, Andrea?"

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I need to talk to you."

"I told you, I don't have feelings for you anymore," he says coldly, his handsome face an expressionless mask. "There's nothing to discuss."

The words pierce me like shards of ice, proving that his rejection stings just as brutally the second time around. I thought I had steeled myself, but the utter lack of emotion sends fresh fissures through my heart.

Blinking back the prickling threat of tears, I force myself to continue. "I'm not here to talk about us, Stefano. But I really think you'll want to hear what I have to say. Please, sit."

His eyes flash with annoyance, and he takes a step back. "Didn't you hear me? I don't want to hear anything you have to say! Leave now, or I'll have security remove you."

Desperation claws at my chest. It's now or never. Meeting his gaze directly, I take a deep breath and lay my truth bare.

"Stefano, I'm pregnant."

Silence crashes over the room as he stares at me in shock as if I've suddenly morphed into an alien creature before his eyes. I watch the emotions play across his striking face - confusion, disbelief, and then an explosion of pure, incandescent joy that steals my breath.

"Really?" he whispers, closing the distance between us in two long strides. His eyes drop to my still-flat stomach, then rise to search my face intently. At my nod, the most brilliant, beautiful smile I've ever seen on him breaks across his face like the dawning sun.

"I can't believe I'm going to be a father!" Stefano lifts me into his arms and spins me around in a dizzying circle of elation. Tears spring to my eyes, partly from the swirl of motion but mostly from the overwhelming relief and happiness expanding in my chest.

I had worried he might not welcome a baby as he doesn't love me. But I underestimated his reaction to such momentous news. All my doubts and fears melt away in the warmth of his obvious delight.

"Wait, I hope spinning you like this won't hurt the baby," he says suddenly, freezing with me suspended in midair, his brow furrowed with concern.

A laugh bubbles out of me, giddy and watery. "No, it won't hurt the baby. We're fine."

"This is wonderful news, mi amore," he murmurs tenderly as he sets me gently back on my feet.

My heart stutters and trips at the endearment. "What did you just say?" I breathe, scarcely daring to hope I heard him correctly. Did Stefano really call me "my love"? Does this mean he wants to reconcile for the sake of our child?

As much as I yearn for us to be a family, I don't want him to feel obligated to be with me solely because of the baby. If we do find our way back together someday, it needs to be because he loves me, not out of duty or responsibility.

Something flickers in his eyes before he glances away. "I said this is wonderful news, Andrea."

"That's not what you said," I press, pulse racing.

"It is what I said," he insists, shuttering his expression. "How far along are you?"

It's obvious he's trying to change the subject and I decide to let it go for now, even as disappointment pricks at my hopeful bubble. He clearly didn't mean to let the loving endearment slip out. Likely, it was just a force of habit.

Rubbing a hand over my stomach, I meet his eyes again. "Seven weeks."

Stefano nods, his manner shifting into decisive action. "We'll get you an appointment with the best OB-GYN here in Sicily. And then I'll arrange for your trip to another country."

"Trip to another country?" I ask, wondering what he is talking about.

"Yes, you can't be in the US or Italy while you are pregnant."

"Why?"

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Until I see Vladimir burned to ashes, no child of mine will be safe here or in the US. I won't risk either of you."