Everyone Thought I Was the Don's Mistress

I practically stumbled back into the bedroom. My vision kept blacking out and returning in waves, and the hand resting on my stomach would not stop trembling. The joy I had felt at the babies’ arrival a few months earlier had turned into an equally deep hatred of their father.

Marcello Mancini, my newlywed husband, came over with a glass of warm water and gently rubbed my back.

"Feeling sick again?"

I shifted away instinctively. He assumed I was unwell and tucked a cushion behind my lower back.

"We're having lunch at Mamma's tomorrow. If you're not feeling up to it, we'll leave early."

He pressed my vitamins into my palm, and I fought down a wave of nausea.

"Just leave them here. I want to rest on my own for a while."

Marcello paused and studied me for a moment.

"Are you still upset about Valentina? Fine, I won't bother you tonight. Call me if you're not feeling well."

I got up and locked the door. I never touched the water.

The next day, I went to the estate with Marcello. The moment we walked in, his childhood best friend, Valentina Greco, came running out of the kitchen.

She wore one of Marcello's baggy old shirts, its hem barely covering the tops of her thighs, and she was holding a strawberry.

"What took you so long?"

She threw herself at him and wrapped her legs around his waist. Marcello stumbled half a step back and caught her with practiced ease.

"Careful. If you fall, you'll blame me again."

Valentina laughed, bit into the strawberry, and fed him the other half. Only then did she turn her head, as if she had just noticed me. Her gaze lingered on my face, and her smile grew even smugger.

"Sorry. I always wore his clothes as pajamas whenever I stayed over. Old habits die hard."

Marcello patted her back, and she slid down.

"She's always like this, not caring about what others think. Don't read into it."

I walked around them and into the dining room.

Marcello's mother, Rosaria Mancini, was directing the staff as they set the table. When she saw Valentina, she smiled and waved her over to the seat beside her.

"I had the kitchen make your favorite pan-fried fish."

The fishy smell drained the color from my face, and my stomach churned. Still, nobody cared about me.

Valentina casually pulled out the chair next to her for Marcello. The three of them looked like a family while I sat alone across from them.

Over lunch, they talked about the yacht party the month before. Valentina laughed and complained, "Serafina, you really should come out with us sometime. Whenever you're not around, they always pick on Marcello and me during truth or dare."

Marcello chuckled. "Whose fault is it that you keep losing? You're terrible at poker, yet you still insist on playing."

"What do I have to be scared of, with you around?" Valentina said sweetly, then arched an eyebrow at me with exaggerated concern.

"Then again, Serafina, you're pregnant now. You've lost your figure, and you can't drink, so you'd better be a good girl and stay home with the baby. I'll keep an eye on Marcello for you."

I did not answer and only gave her a cold look.

I knew Marcello's childhood friends. They were rich boys coasting on their family names, and not one of them was a Made Man. I had never associated with them before, and I certainly would not start now.

Annoyed by my silence, Valentina let her gaze drop to my belly.

"Shouldn't you start planning the gender reveal party? You’re only four months along, right? But you’re already so big!”

Rosaria looked over as well. Valentina tilted her head, as if she were only making small talk.

"I wonder if the baby will be blond or dark-haired."

Marcello's knife stopped mid-cut. His hair was black, and everyone in the family knew the Don had a head of pure golden hair in his youth.

I gave her a half-smile. "It's twins. This is my first pregnancy, though, so I don't know much about these things.

"I didn't realize you were so experienced. You can tell how far along I am with one look at my belly."

The smile vanished from Valentina's face. She glanced at Marcello beside her without thinking, and panic flickered in her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I'm complimenting you on how much you know." I took a slow sip of water. "After all, you know your way around the OB-GYN department at Santa Maria Hospital much better than I do, don't you?"

"I went with a friend! I've never been pregnant!"

She slammed her glass down, and juice splashed onto the table beside her hand.

"Who was the one in such a rush to marry into this family, with a baby already on the way?"

The table went quiet. Marcello frowned and pushed the beef he had cut across to me.

"Sera, Valentina has never even been in a serious relationship. How could you say that about her?"

The irony was not lost on me. At the wedding, Valentina had made me sound like a tramp over nothing more than my dad’s gifted bracelet, and he had told me to let it go. Now that I had pushed back once, he suddenly knew how to defend a woman’s honor.

Rosaria said nothing, her eyes still on my belly.

"Are both babies healthy? Have Marcello go with you to your next checkup."

"There's no need. I've already made an appointment with my doctor."

Marcello wanted to say something, but Valentina had already regained her composure.

"Right, why would you need him to worry about you? Serafina's never short of men to take care of her.

"Why aren't you wearing that bracelet? It’s so expensive, yet you won't even wear it for your mystery man to see? You'll break his heart."

"I'd love to know who exactly this man is supposed to be."

She dragged out her words and twirled a strand of hair. "It was only a joke. Why are you so touchy?

"Honestly, I'm jealous of you. Vito is so much stricter with the rest of us. All you have to do is sit at auctions and buy things.

“Must be nice."

Valentina's gaze swept over my belly again.

"By the way, do you still have to go to his estate and report to him? With a belly that big, some things must be getting a little inconvenient."

I set my glass down.

"What's inconvenient about it? Vito would never force me to do anything."

Valentina hooked her arm through Marcello's, her fingertips trailing slowly along his cuff.

"Marcello, did you hear that? Older men really do know how to take care of their women. We'll have to count on her to put in a good word for us from now on."

I slowly dabbed the corner of my mouth.

"Your numbers really have been poor. I'll mention it to Vito."

Marcello tossed his knife onto his plate.