Chapter 2

The next morning, I was woken by the commotion downstairs.

I dragged myself out of bed on shaky legs and walked to the second-floor railing. The entire foyer was packed with luggage—suitcases and trunks crammed wall to wall.

Valentina stood in the middle of it all, barking orders at the staff like she owned the place.

"These cases go in the master bedroom closet. Be careful with them. Some of those pieces are antique jewelry Domenico gave me personally, and if anything gets damaged, it's coming out of your pay.

"I don't like the color of the curtains. Have them changed today. And the nursery needs to be redone. Clear everything out."

She was wearing a cream-colored dress, one hand resting lightly on her stomach, carrying herself as though she were already the lady of this house.

I gripped the railing, my face pale, and watched it all unfold. Then Valentina finally glanced up, as if she'd only just noticed me standing there. She flashed me a sweet smile.

"Nadia, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "Perfect, there's actually something I wanted to talk to you about."

I took a step back, already bracing for whatever came next.

Valentina clicked her way up the stairs in her heels, her gaze drifting past me to the master bedroom door.

"I've been having terrible insomnia lately. My doctor said emotional well-being is crucial during pregnancy, and that I should be in a south-facing room with the best light and ventilation. And looking at the whole estate, the only room that fits the bill is the one you're staying in."

She even had the nerve to look a little sheepish about it. "You wouldn't mind, would you, Nadia?"

The air went still. Downstairs, every one of the staff had stopped what they were doing, holding their breath, sneaking glances up at us.

Everyone knew what that room meant. It was the room of the Madre of the Ferrante household. I had decorated it myself after Domenico and I got married. Our wedding portrait still hung on the wall.

Before I could respond, footsteps came from behind me. Domenico stepped out of his study. He'd clearly heard every word. His brow creased, barely perceptible, and his voice carried a quiet warning.

"Valentina."

Her eyes turned red instantly. She pressed a hand to her belly.

"I just really haven't been sleeping well," she said. "My stomach was hurting all night, and I was so scared something might happen to the baby."

She dropped her gaze, her voice trembling with just the right amount of hurt. "If Nadia doesn't want to, then forget it."

Domenico said nothing. But I knew him too well. Every time Valentina pulled that expression, he caved.

And sure enough, after a few seconds, he turned to me.

"Nadia." His voice was low, careful, meant to soothe. "She's pregnant. She can't handle stress right now. It's only temporary. Just let her have the room for a while and move to the east wing suite, alright?"

He even placed his hand on my shoulder as he said it, like he was coaxing an obedient wife into doing the reasonable thing.

"Once the baby's born safely, everything goes back to normal."

I'd already braced myself for this, but hearing him actually say the words "just let her have it" still cut straight through me.

But I was already planning to leave. There was nothing left here worth fighting for. So I nodded.

"Fine."

Domenico looked caught off guard. He clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily.

In the past, anything involving Valentina had always ended in an argument between us. But this time, my silence was unsettling.

Something uneasy flickered behind his eyes. "Nadia, you really don't mind?"

My hands paused over the suitcase I was packing. "It's just a room. Valentina's pregnant. Her comfort matters more."

Relief softened his expression. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, his voice warm. "Nadia, you're being really wonderful about this."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. But Valentina, standing right there beside us, heard every word of that praise, and her gaze turned ice-cold.

She'd been counting on me to throw a fit. She wanted me to scream and fight so Domenico would grow even more tired of me.

But my surrender had backfired on her. Instead of resentment, it made Domenico feel guilty and grateful toward me, and that wasn't the outcome Valentina wanted at all.

"Ah!"

She knocked into a maid carrying a tray of hot tea, sending the scalding liquid splashing across her own hand.

Domenico's face went white. He rushed over and caught her by the arm. "What the hell happened?"

Valentina's eyes brimmed with tears, but the first thing she did was look at me. She shook her head quickly, her voice shaking.

"It wasn't Nadia's fault. I just lost my balance."

But everything about the way she looked, the trembling, the wide eyes, the wounded little flinch, painted the picture of someone who'd just been terribly wronged.

Domenico's expression darkened. For the first time, his voice carried real reproach when he spoke to me.

"Nadia, she's pregnant. Don't provoke her."

I stood there, frozen.