Guilty Until Proven Faithful

Dr. Whitfield handed me the consent form for a paternity test.

I signed without hesitating.

Carlo looked surprised, a probing look in his eyes.

I gave the form back to the doctor, then turned to Carlo, my voice cold.

"Sign it too. Then leave. I don't want to look at you."

Carlo acted as if he hadn't heard me.

"As long as you can extract genetic material, you can identify the baby's biological father. Correct?" he asked the doctor.

After a pause, the doctor answered in a carefully professional voice. "Yes, Don Moretti. But your wife has just lost her baby. Right now, she needs your support more than anything."

The door closed behind him. Carlo and I were alone.

Carlo sat on the edge of my bed and took my hand gently.

"Madison, don't blame me. I just need to know the truth. Once the results come back, I'll take care of that man. Then we can go back to the way things were."

I closed my eyes, exhausted, and gave a bitter little smile.

"No. We can't."

He heard the finality in my voice and frowned.

"Even after all this, I never considered leaving you. Why are you throwing a tantrum?"

I pulled my hand free with the little strength I had left.

"I'm the one who doesn't want you anymore."

His expression hardened.

"You're not thinking clearly. Don't say things just to hurt me."

A chill settled somewhere deep in my chest. My throat ached.

To Carlo, everything I said was just me lashing out. Every time I defended myself, it was an excuse. Yet every accusation he leveled at me was, in his mind, a perfectly reasonable search for the facts.

He couldn't even recognize the damage he was doing.

I turned my face toward the wall. What was the point of arguing with a man who didn't trust his own wife?

Then the anesthesia began to wear off.

Pain tightened through my lower abdomen. I curled onto my side, cold sweat soaking my hospital gown.

Carlo jumped up, panic plain on his face.

"Madison? What's wrong? I'll get the doctor. Just hold on!"

He ran out. His fear looked real.

I watched him disappear through the doorway and drifted back into unconsciousness.

We'd been married for five years. Carlo was a ruthless Mafia Don, but he had always saved his softness for me. I was the one person who could make him lose his composure.

When we were dating, I once mentioned wanting to collect rare gemstones. He spent millions at auction on the Belmonde Rose, a rare pink diamond, then built an entire private underground gallery for my collection.

But now our baby was dead, and his first thought had been to order a paternity test.

Not a trace of grief.

When I woke again, it was the middle of the night.

My room was empty. Voices drifted through the door, which had been left slightly ajar.

"Don Moretti, I have to warn you," Mia was saying. "With an embryo this early, genetic testing is difficult. Even if the tissue was preserved, separating the fetal DNA from the mother's can be unreliable."

Carlo's reply was icy.

"So the result could be wrong?"

Mia sounded indignant.

"I can't guarantee one hundred percent accuracy. And Madison signed that consent form awfully quickly. Maybe she looked into the testing limitations beforehand. She could be counting on an inconclusive result.

"She'll use it to trick you into forgiving her. Don't fall for a few tears..."

"Enough." Carlo cut her off. "Madison just miscarried. You shouldn't be making those assumptions about her."

Mia sighed as if she were the injured party.

"I'm only thinking of you and the family's reputation. I've known you since we were children. How could I stand by and watch someone fool you? Just think about what I've said."

The door opened.

Mia stepped inside, saw me watching her, and froze.

"Madison! You're awake. You didn't... hear any of that, did you?"

I scoffed. I had no interest in playing along with her act.

"Every single word."