Chapter

Lena’s POV

“I didn't teach you how to shoot, just so you could point a gun at my father.” He deadpanned as he met me sitting by the fountain, his eyes darkened. His expression was unreadable.

I stood up immediately, “I really fucked up, didn't I?” I said as panic surged through me.

“He’s impressed.” His face softened, “Says you are exactly the type of woman our family needs.”

I blinked several times, not believing what I just heard. “He said that?”

“Sickly, he sees himself in you.”

“How so?”

“We weren't always wealthy, yunno.”

“Hmm.”

“That's a story for another day. But I think we might have a problem.”

“Problem?”

“He wants us to stay for three months. It's non-negotiable.”

“What!”

<<Two months later>>

The sun peeked through the blinds, illuminating everything with its soft glow, including Lucano's well-defined abs that were glistening as beads of sweat trailed down, disappearing at the waist of his joggers.

I let out a yawn, gaining his attention. “Happy birthday. Wifey.” He uttered with a smile. My ears tipped up, and my cheeks warmed to the sound of genuineness in his tone.

The last two months have been perfect. I started living for myself, and it felt nice for once. I talk to my mum and sister everyday. Lucano had them moved to a better hospital as he promised, and for the first time in two years, I heard my sister speak. That was the best birthday gift I could ever ask for.

I play chess with Mr. Baricelli every now and then. I also help Patricia groom her flower garden; she loves me as her own daughter.

The Mafia life isn't as bad as I thought.

“What's on your mind?” Lucano’s voice snapped me from my thoughts.

“Nothing,”

“Good, cause I have something for you downstairs.”

I followed him downstairs only to find a black Mercedes parked. I was stunned, and I couldn't find the right words to express how I felt, knowing fully well this was going to end in five years.

“Thank you,” I muttered as a heavy weight of sadness settled on my chest.

“My father has planned a surprise dinner for you.”

“It's not a surprise anymore, is it?” I said, and he shrugged with a dubious smile, hinting he told me on purpose.

Later that evening, I picked a silk cream-colored dress, applied lip gloss to my lips, making it look luscious. Packed my hair into a messy bun to shape my face.

“Buon compleanno.” Santos yelled, in a thick Italian accent, the moment I stepped into the dining. Everyone was present…except….Lucano.

As if on cue, his oud and musky scent hit my nostrils before I saw him. “He means happy birthday,” He whispered against my ear.

My heart skipped a beat in my chest as I felt his presence warming me. “You wore this dress to taunt me. It's not going to end well.” He threatened, and I smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.

Patricia hugged me with a wide smile as I reached the table, and so did Mr. Barricelli. “Let's get started, but before that,” he brought out a white envelope, handing it to me. “Happy birthday, Lena.”

I grabbed the envelope, confused. When I finally open it. I froze as I felt a swirl of joy and sadness rippling through me.

“Scholarship and Acceptance letter into Colombia University of Paediatric Surgery.”

Tears of joy streamed down my face as I thanked him. “Don't thank me.” He turned to Patricia, “It was her idea.” More tears traced a path on my cheeks as I thanked her.

“Can we eat now?” Santos, the party pooper, muttered.

I brimmed with happiness as I diced the beef, savoring the tenderness on my taste buds as it melted in my mouth. “Hmm,” I uttered, washing it down with a glass of wine.

A wave of nausea hit me. I cleared my throat, adjusting on my seat as I felt my stomach churn slightly.

“Are you okay?” Lucano asked as he noticed my fork hanging in the air.

“Yes,” I nodded, adding a smile.

Returning to my food, I sliced another piece of beef, chewed, and swallowed it. And that's when another round of nausea hits me like a violent wave, crashing into the walls of my stomach. Bile rose to my throat as I felt an influx of acid.

My bones weakened, and I suddenly felt like emptying the contents of my intestines. I rose abruptly, causing the chair to scrape against the tiles, and tumbled over.

I clasped my hands over my mouth as I hiccupped, bolting for the bathroom in our bedroom.

My throat made retching noises as I vomited my dinner into the toilet.

“Lena,” Lucano called, “Open up. Are you okay?” He asked with worry etched in his voice. “Do I need to break down this door?”

I couldn't answer and just kept coughing. Just then, it occurred to me that this happened last week at breakfast, too.

“No, no, no,” I rushed to the cabinet, panic rising in my chest as I said a prayer within me.

I brought out the test kit and peed on it and started pacing in the bathroom, nervously biting my finger nails and running my hands through my hair.

It beeped.

I took slow, tentative steps towards where I kept it. My heart threatened to jump out of my throat as Lucano’s warning rang loudly in my mind.

I picked it, and the results froze me in place. Just then, Lucano opened the door with a bang, stumbling in. Only to freeze at the spot as his eyes trail to my shaking fingers.

“Tell me that's not what I think it is,” His face contorted into a frown as he muttered in an icy tone.

My lips quivered, my blood ran cold with the displeasure and rejection his voice carried.

He yanked it from my fingers, looking at the result as though it were a curse. A disease. Something powerful enough to scrub him from the face of the earth.

His jaw tightened, his eyes darkened. “Do you have any idea what you've just done?” He yelled, his face morphing into something so deadly it could burn me where I stood.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes, hot and suffocating. “Me?” My voice cracked. “I did this by myself?” I managed to say as I felt my heart ripping into a million pieces.

His eyes burned with an intensity. “Get rid of it.” He said disdain and venom dripped from his tone. “Or I’ll do it myself,”

Nine words were all it took to break through the will I had used to keep my tears from falling.

I sniffled, “I won't do it.”

“Suit yourself,” He stormed out, knocking over a flower vase on his way out. The broken piece jumped, pricking my skin, and blood trickled.

As I stood there, tears streaming down my eyes. I played out everything in my head. I knew one thing: Lucano wasn't joking. He’ll try to get rid of my baby.

A steely resolve took over as I rushed to my wardrobe, grabbed my passport, my car key, packed my clothes, and the scholarship slip.

Luckily, the security guard on duty was someone I had connected with. I sold him a lie, and he believed it.

The road leading to the airport was a few miles away. I had to get away from Lucano. There is no telling what he’d do. He had warned me about getting pregnant, even included it in the contract. He even took me to the hospital monthly to ensure I renewed my contraceptives. I was so caught up that I forgot to go last month.

There is no doubt he is the only man who has managed to ignite a fire in me. But tonight, while he glared at me, for the first time in forever, I confirmed what the whole world said was true.“ He is a man who’d kill and ask questions later.”

My phone chimed.

Mr. Giovanni Barricelli’s name popped up on the screen, my father-in-law. I picked it up.

“Where are you?” His voice was low, dripping with urgency.

“On my way to the airport.”

“I need you to come back immediately.”

“No.” I said in a stern tone, “He’s going to kill our baby.”

“Lucano is just scared. He lost someone dear once, to our crime world.” My hands softened on the steering wheel, “Come back and I’ll explain everything. It's not safe for you out there.” He let out a sigh, “I know you killed someone.” My heart dropped to my belly. “His name is Marco Vincente Senior.” My stomach tightened. “He was a powerful Mafia lord, an enemy of the Baricelli’s, and if I know, it's just a matter of time before his son finds out it was you.” My head swamped, my body trembled at the name. Everyone knew who they were. Psychopaths. Now it turns out it was their boss I killed?

I was still lost in thought when a trailer stopped in front of my car, blocking my path. I honked several times for the driver to move out of the way.

The next thing I saw were figures in black emerging from the darkness, armed to the teeth with big guns, masks covering their faces revealing only their eyes.

As they marched forward, my heart rate spiked dangerously, and heat spread all through me. Causing my head to pound steadily.

“Lena.” My father-in-law called, “Please come home.”

“I can't,” I muttered, dread washing over me, fear biting into my skin and grounding my nerves. “They found me.”

I tried to open the door to make a run for it. But a cold metal connected with my head. Before I blacked out, I could hear a voice cold as ice.

“If you can hear me, Lucano." He let out a wicked laugh, "I have your wife. If you love her, come get her. You have twenty-four hours or she dies. Old saw mill. Come alone. Don't be late.”

The line disconnected.

My vision blurred. Everthing began fading, not from the blow, but from the ache clawing at my chest.

He said 'if' you love her.

But what if he doesn’t?

What if no one comes to save me?