The Father Of Her Baby

In the evening, Renata was taken to the church where the wedding was to take place. The space was filled with people— her father’s associates, wealthy businessmen, social elites, and those who had gathered not out of love, but out of obligation and curiosity.

Her hands trembled at her sides as the music began to play, signaling her walk toward a future she did not choose.

Each step she took down the aisle felt forced as though her own body was betraying her. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, and her breathing grew shallow. She could feel the weight of countless eyes on her, judging her, watching her, witnessing her surrender. She lowered her gaze briefly, her lips moving in silent prayer.

‘Please… Give me a way out. Please save me from this.’

Her vision blurred as tears gathered in her eyes, but she forced herself to keep walking. She had nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

As she finally lifted her head, her eyes fell upon the man waiting for her at the altar.

The old man, Giovanni.

Even through the thin veil, she could see the smile stretching across his face, which was full of lust.

When his tongue briefly passed over his lips, disgust washed over her. Her fingers curled tightly into fists beneath the folds of her dress as her body resisted the urge to step back.

Her steps faltered as she reached the altar. The distance between her and Giovanni was no more than a few inches now. Her body refused to move further.

Paolo noticed immediately and without hesitation, he placed his hand firmly against her back and shoved her forward.

The sudden force sent her stumbling a step closer to Giovanni. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she struggled to steady herself, her hands instinctively clutching the sides of her dress.

“Dad… please,” Renata whispered, her voice trembling as she turned her head slightly to look at him through the thin veil.

But Paolo had already turned his back on her as if his duty had been fulfilled. As if she were no longer his responsibility.

“You look breathtaking, Renata,” Giovanni said. His eyes roamed over her face, her body, with shameless hunger. He reached out to grab her wrist.

But Renata immediately stepped back from him, practically protecting herself from his touch.

Whispers began to ripple through the hall. Guests leaned toward one another, exchanging curious glances and hushed murmurs.

Paolo’s eyes hardened as he watched from a distance.

Giovanni’s expression darkened slightly, displeased by her resistance.

“I’ve paid your father a great deal of money,” he hissed in fury. “Do not embarrass me.”

Renata knew at that moment only she could save herself. “No, I-I don't want to marry you. You're old enough to be my father and I am pregnant!”

The moment she uttered those words Giovanni’s head snapped toward Paolo. Unable to control his rage, he stepped forward and held Renata's wrist.

“Ahh, let me go!!!” Renata’s scream reverberated in the hall. “Someone, please help me!” She begged with pleading eyes, looking at the eyes in the hall but no one stepped forward because of Giovanni’s terror.

“Start the vows!” Giovanni bellowed at the priest, who nodded in fear.

And just then, a violent gunshot echoed in the hall, bringing everyone's eyes to the door.

There stood a man, whom Renata recognized.

The father of her baby!

Domenico walked down the aisle. Though he looked calm, his eyes held something far more dangerous than anger. They held a gaze of wanting blood. He did not look at anyone else in the room. His gaze was fixed only on Renata, the woman who was carrying his baby.

Giovanni’s face twisted with fury as he realized this stranger had no intention of stopping. “Stop him!” he shouted at his guards. “What are you waiting for? Stop him!”

But his men hesitated. Something about the man approaching them made even armed guards uncertain.

Before anyone could react properly, Domenico had already reached the altar. In one swift motion, he raised his gun and pressed the cold barrel firmly against Giovanni’s forehead, making him freeze instantly. The confidence he had worn so proudly only moments ago began to crumble.

“Let her go,” Domenico said. “Or I will empty this gun into your head.”

Despite the calm in his voice, the threat in it couldn't be ignored.

Giovanni’s grip on Renata tightened for a moment, his pride refusing to surrender so easily. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped, trying to sound fearless despite the weapon pointed at him. “She is mine. I am supposed to marry her. Guards, throw this man out!”

One of the guards gathered his courage and rushed forward, attempting to obey the order.

The sound of the gunshot came instantly. The guard collapsed to the ground, lifeless, before he could take another step.

Screams filled the hall. Guests stumbled backward, women cried out in terror, and men lowered their heads, afraid to even breathe too loudly. Panic spread quickly, but no one dared move toward the exit.

Within seconds, heavy footsteps sounded behind them as more men entered the church. They moved quickly and shut the large doors, sealing the hall completely. The message was clear. No one was leaving without Domenico’s permission.

Domenico did not move the gun from Giovanni’s head.

“I am Domenico Veronesi,” he said.