Heart Of The Mafia

Adriana's POV.

The cold marble floor echoed under my hesitant steps as I pushed open the heavy glass doors of the doctor’s office. My hands trembled, betraying the calm I was trying to hold onto. This wasn’t just a routine visit, this was the moment that could change everything.

“Mrs. Moretti?” The voice was soft but firm.

I turned to see Dr. Phillips, her expression gentle but professional.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, managing a weak smile.

“Come with me,” she said, leading me down the sterile, white corridor. Each step was a countdown, a tick of fate drawing me closer to the truth.

I climbed onto the exam table, the cold leather beneath me making my heart beat faster. The room was silent except for the soft hum of the ultrasound machine coming to life.

Dr. Phillips pressed the probe gently against my stomach. The cold metal sent a shiver through me, but I stayed still, eyes locked on the machine’s screen.

Then, her eyes widened, a crack in her professional mask.

“Mrs. Moretti... you’re pregnant,” she said, voice steady but touched with a rare warmth.

My breath hitched, and my fingers dug into the edge of the table. “Pregnant?” I echoed.

“Yes,” Dr. Phillips smiled. “About six weeks along. Congratulations.”

The word hung heavy in the air. *Pregnant.*

I thought of Vincent, cold, powerful Vincent Moretti, and the empire he was building around us, brick by bloody brick. He has always talked about wanting to start a family but did he really mean it. I guess I'll find out today, I can't wait to break the news to him.

I swallowed hard, tears prickling behind my eyes. I was beyond excited.

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said with excitement.

I just hope this child will be welcomed with love because in the Moretti world, nothing was ever just about love.

Dr. Phillips handed me a few brochures, her voice steady but kind. “These will give you all the information you need. And remember, Mrs. Moretti, take care of yourself. Make sure you come back for regular check-ups. Congratulations, again.”

I nodded, clutching the papers like a lifeline, then gave a small wave goodbye before stepping out into the cold hospital air. The city buzzed around me, but inside, a fierce fire was growing. I was carrying Moretti blood, a symbol of hope and danger all at once.

By the time I reached the mansion, the weight of the news pressed heavily on my chest, but happiness fought to break through. I climbed the grand staircase two steps at a time, my voice light with excitement.

“Vincent! Vincent! I have news,” I called out, the words bubbling up with a joy I hadn’t felt in months.

But as I neared the bedroom door, my steps faltered. A faint murmur stopped me cold. A chill ran down my spine. Was it just my imagination? Or did I hear laughter, the kind that didn’t belong in a house built on blood and loyalty?

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and pushed the door open.

The world shifted.

Vincent stood there, tangled with Stella, my closest friend, my confidante. Their bodies were too close, their smiles too knowing. The room was thick with betrayal, suffocating and raw.

My breath caught, my legs threatened to give out. The woman I trusted, the man I loved, their faces so close, so cruel. Stella’s smile was sharp as a knife; Vincent’s gaze was cold, unreadable.

“Vincent… Stella…” My voice was a trembling whisper. “What is this? How could you…”

Vincent’s eyes didn’t even meet mine. Without a word, he turned on his heel and left, his footsteps echoing in the heavy silence.

I stood there, shattered, a pawn caught between two kings at war.

I faced Stella, my hands trembling with rage, knuckles white at my sides. “How dare you?” My voice cracked, but it still carried venom. “You were supposed to be my best friend.”

Stella simply raised an eyebrow, unfazed. Her tone, when she spoke, was laced with venom. “Oh, please. Save the tears for someone who cares.” She folded her arms, the silk robe sliding off one shoulder, a deliberate act. “You really thought you could have it all? The name, the money, the mansion… Vincent?” Her lips curled into a sneer. “I’m tired of living in your shadow.”

Her words felt like a blade twisting into my gut. “What are you talking about?” I whispered, broken. “You were like a sister to me. I trusted you. I would have given you anything.”

“You already gave me everything,” she said coldly. “I just took it.”

Then her voice turned lethal. “And your father was right about you… you’re a stupid, naive little girl playing queen in a kingdom built by real men.”

That… That was the lowest blow. She knew how strained my relationship with my father was. She knew how deeply his rejection had scarred me.

I staggered back as if her words had physically struck me. “I never knew you hated me this much,” I said quietly, the tears threatening to choke me. “All these years… and it was all fake?”

Stella tilted her head, mocking pity. “I waited. I played my part. But now? Now I’m done pretending.”

I couldn’t even recognize her anymore. This wasn’t the girl I’d grown up with. This was someone else… someone ruthless.

“This is just the beginning, Adriana,” she said with venom, then pushed past me and disappeared down the hallway.

My legs moved before my brain could catch up. I rushed out of the room, down the grand staircase, the cold marble unforgiving beneath my feet.

I found him.

Vincent.

He stood alone in the living room, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring into the fire like a man who’d already decided to burn everything down.

“Vincent,” I whispered. He didn’t turn. He didn’t even flinch.

I stepped closer. “Why, Vincent? Why would you do this to me?”

Still, silence. Like he couldn’t be bothered.

I reached for him, my hand grabbing his arm, demanding he face me. “Answer me!” My voice cracked with pain.

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words shattered the silence like a gunshot.

His shoulders stiffened. Slowly, he turned and for a fleeting second, I saw the man I fell in love with. That look. That warmth.

But then, it vanished.

His eyes turned to stone.

“You’re going to be a father,” I said, my voice gentler now, desperate to reach whatever was left of his heart. “We can finally have the family we talked about.”

His reply shattered everything.

“No, Adriana.” His voice was ice. “I’m not the father of that bastard you’re carrying.”