Chapter 5

Three days after my weapons access was revoked, I threw up violently in the bathroom for the second time.

There was nothing left in my stomach, but the sour bile kept coming. I braced myself on the sink. The mirror showed me how pale I was.

In my last life, I never got pregnant.

At least, not before I died.

When the doctor at the private clinic slid the test results across the desk, I stared at the words "seven weeks pregnant," and it took a long time for the news to sink in.

"Ms. Moretti?" the doctor said gently.

I looked up. "Are you sure?"

"It's confirmed. The gestational sac is in the right place. But you've had some mild cramping lately, so you need to rest."

She glanced at my file. "Would you like us to let the father know?"

"No," I said before I could think.

Then I went quiet.

The report was one thin sheet of paper, but it weighed a ton. Five years of loving him and hating him came crashing down on me all at once.

Luca and I had come so close to having a real home.

Not an alliance between two powerful families. Not a grand engagement ceremony. Not a ring or a new last name.

Sitting down together for every meal. Someone waiting up for you to come home at night. A child of our own.

I folded the report carefully and tucked it into my bag.

When I got back to my apartment, Luca was already waiting in the living room. He was sitting on the couch with a paper bag at his feet.

"Where were you?"

I tensed up. "Just out. Walking around."

He studied me for a few seconds but didn't push. He waved me over. "Come here."

I walked over.

Luca took a motorcycle helmet out of the paper bag.

I went still.

It was the one I'd cracked when I crashed my bike a few months ago.

"Wasn't the shell wrecked?"

"I had the shell replaced and the whole lining redone."

He put the helmet in my hands.

My fingertips brushed the faint scratches along the side.

They were the original marks.

"You kept the old scratches?"

"You said this was the helmet you wore the day you beat me in that race, so you'd never throw it out." Luca's voice was even. "I had them preserve the original scratches."

My eyes stung.

He always remembered the little things.

He could remember an offhand comment for years. That was exactly why I'd once been so sure he loved me deeply.

Then Luca reached into the bottom of the bag and pulled out a pair of tiny riding gloves, the kind made for a little kid.

My breath caught.

"What are those?"

"The store packed them in by mistake."

He slipped the gloves onto two of his fingers, and for once, he actually smiled.

"Can you believe how small they are?"

I couldn't take my eyes off those gloves.

Luca said it like it was nothing. "If we ever have a daughter, the first thing I'm doing is locking up her motorcycle keys."

My throat closed up.

"What makes you so sure it'd be a girl?"

"A boy can run as wild as he wants."

"Why?"

"A boy falls down a couple of times and learns what pain is."

He raised his eyes to mine.

"But someone like you? You'd break your leg and still hit the throttle."

I should have argued with him.

But the report in my bag felt red-hot, and my fingers were already reaching for the zipper.

"Luca."

"Hm?"

"If we have a kid someday," I said, holding his gaze, "are you going to decide everything for her too?"

He thought I was still stuck on our argument about the motorcycle keys. Luca came closer and pressed a light kiss to my forehead.

"If she's as reckless with her life as you are, my first priority will be keeping her alive."

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Then she can yell at me all she wants."

My heart tightened with a mix of tenderness and dull pain.

I came this close to telling him I was pregnant.

That was when his phone rang.

When he got off the call, Luca's face had gone hard again. "The seating for the engagement banquet is set."

"And?"

"Viola will sit at the Moretti family table."

I didn't say anything.

He kept going. "Also, your weapons access won't be restored until after the engagement. And she'll represent the Moretti women at the next two public family events."

I slowly looked up.

"Who decided that?"

"Antonio."

"And you agreed?"

Luca hesitated. "It's only temporary."

"Sure."

I gave him a bitter little smile.

"Temporary. Again."

"Isabella, you're my fiancée. Not her."

"I know."

I set my bag aside. In the end, I never took the report out.

Luca frowned, looking me over. "Are you not feeling well?"

"A little."

He reached out to feel my forehead.

"Do you have a fever?"

"No."

"Then I'll have the doctor come over."

"I'm going in tomorrow." I looked at him. "I already made the appointment."

Luca nodded and didn't ask anything else.

That night, after he left, I went into the bathroom and found a little blood on my underwear.

It wasn't much.

But a chill spread through my whole body, and I called the clinic right away.

The doctor told me to come in early the next day for a follow-up appointment. If the bleeding got heavier or the cramping got worse, I was to go straight to the ER.

I put the appointment time in my notes app. Then I sat alone on the edge of the bed and looked at the tiny riding gloves Luca had left behind.

I never planned to use the baby as a bargaining chip to make him take my side or love me more.

I just wanted to know one thing. Baby or no baby, when I asked him to trust me, could he really choose to stand with me?

I put the test report in the box with the gloves.

Everything came down to tomorrow's checkup.

If it all came back fine, maybe I would tell him the truth.