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When Labor Became My Prison
When Labor Became My Prison
Author: Crispy Coco

Chapter 1

Author: Crispy Coco
My head was spinning. They pushed me into a storage room in the hospital basement. A makeshift cell.

"Put her here."

I knew that voice.

Elena Falcone. My husband's sister.

She moved closer. A cold blade touched my cheek. That's when I saw the scalpel in her hand.

"Don't blame Vittorio, Alessia," she said, looking down at me. "The baby in Ornella's belly is my dead brother Marco's only child. He's the only one who deserves to be the heir."

"I never... I never wanted to compete with her..." I whispered.

She clamped her hand over my mouth before I could finish.

"Your pathetic acting makes me sick! Did you forget pushing Ornella down the stairs last month? A pregnant widow who just lost her husband?"

My eyes shot open. "I didn't..."

"She almost lost the baby!" Elena’s voice was a shriek. "If the maid hadn't found her, Marco's only bloodline would have ended because of a snake like you!"

A tearing pain ripped through my belly. I couldn't breathe.

Elena sneered. She dragged the flat of the blade across my cheek. The metal was ice against my skin.

"Family rules are absolute. First to deliver the heir, wins. So you and your little bastard? You just lost."

I clutched my belly. A new wave of contractions was fighting the drug.

The pain was so bad, my vision was going dark.

"Get a doctor. I'm having the baby, for real..."

"Having the baby?" Elena laughed like it was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. "Stop the act. Ornella already explained your whole game to my brother. She said you'd pull a stunt like this today."

Elena turned and nodded to two big guards outside.

"Watch her. If she screams, tape her mouth shut."

The door slammed shut.

A single, dim emergency light lit the basement.

I lay on the floor. The blood had already soaked through my dress.

Vittorio took my phone when we got to the hospital. He said he wanted me to focus on the delivery, that he'd keep it safe for me.

Now I knew why. He was afraid I'd call for help.

I curled into a ball, trying to breathe through the pain. All I could see was Vittorio’s face when he ordered them to lock me up. The disgust in his eyes.

Like I was the enemy, not his wife, not the woman about to give him a child.

He believed every lie Ornella told. Every crime she pinned on me.

Elena, too.

I remembered seven months ago. His brother, the original Don Marco, was killed in a hit by a rival family.

At the funeral, while everyone was lost in grief, Ornella threw up in front of everyone.

She was pregnant.

That child became the family's last hope.

I tried to comfort the old, grieving Don. "Don't worry," I told him. "My and Vittorio's child will grow up to be a pride of the family, too. They'll be here for you."

The old man just looked at me. He said nothing.

I get it now. From that moment on, my child was already written off.

Time dragged on.

The drugs started wearing off. The contractions came back.

Each one was worse than the last, like someone was twisting my insides with a pair of pliers.

I could feel the baby was about to come out.

I dug my nails into my palm to stay awake, then crawled to the door, leaving a trail of blood, and started pounding on it.

"Please!" I yelled. "I need a doctor!"

Nothing.

"Please!" I slammed the door with all my strength. "My baby is coming..."

My voice was raw when a guard finally answered, bored.

"Save your breath. Ornella's about to pop. You can see a doctor after she's done."

"But the baby will die..."

"Then that's what you deserve. An eye for an eye."

I collapsed, my body freezing cold.

So that's what this was. In their eyes, my baby's death was payment for my sins.

Just when I was about to give up, I heard Elena's voice in the hall. She was on the phone, not far from the door. She wanted me to hear.

"Vittorio, how are things on your end?" Elena’s voice was bright.

Vittorio’s voice came through, tired but steady. "Ornella's contractions just started. The doctor says everything's fine. What about your end? Is she behaving?"

"Behaving? She's screaming the place down. Putting on a real show."

Elena scoffed. "You're getting soft, Vittorio. A woman like this? You can't show mercy. Or did you forget her stealing the oxytocin? Trying to force her labor early? If Ornella hadn't caught her, we'd be burying Marco's heir."

Oxytocin? I didn't steal anything!

How could Vittorio think that?

Vittorio was silent for a second. Then his voice turned to ice. "I haven't forgotten. And I haven't forgotten the doctor telling me how close Ornella came to losing the baby after that fall. Marco's only child... I won't let anything happen to it."

"Exactly," Elena said. "So don't you worry. I'm watching her. She can't pull any tricks. Is the dose the doctor gave her strong enough? She won't actually pop early, will she?"

"Don't worry," Vittorio's voice was final. "The doctor swore it only delays labor. He said it won't harm her or the child. A little pain will teach her a lesson. A lesson about trying to pull a fast one. After Ornella delivers the true heir, she can have her baby."

"Good. You focus on Ornella. I've got this."

The call ended.

The world went dead silent again.
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  • When Labor Became My Prison   Chapter 11

    Three years later. The Moretti headquarters in New York City, top floor office.I sat in the chair that once belonged to my father, a billion-dollar acquisition deal in front of me.My pen glided across the paper, signing my name.Alessia Moretti."Signora, we have news from Sicily," Luca said, entering the office. "Your father's vineyard had a record harvest this year.""Good," I said without looking up. "He should be enjoying his retirement."Outside my window, the New York skyline glittered in the setting sun.In three years, I had expanded the Moretti empire to heights it had never seen before.From New York to L.A., Chicago to Miami. Our influence was everywhere."Anything else, Luca?" I asked."The report you asked for," he said, handing me a file. "About Chicago."I took it.A status report on Vittorio Falcone.After our last meeting three years ago, he had simply vanished.He was living in a tenement in the South Side of Chicago. Surviving on welfare checks.He drank every day.

  • When Labor Became My Prison   Chapter 10

    In just three months, Vittorio sold off everything. The estate, the casinos, the docks, even the family jewels.Most of the money went to pay off debts.With what was left, he did something that surprised me.He bought a cemetery plot. Right next to "mine.""Papa, I want that number," I said."What number?""My old cell phone number. The one Vittorio thinks is dead."My father frowned. "Why?""I want to hear what he has to say."My father handed me an old phone.The screen showed 47 missed calls.All from Vittorio. And dozens of voicemails.I played the first one.Vittorio’s voice, raw and broken, filled the room."Alessia... I know you can't hear this, but I have to say it.""I know the truth. About Ornella, about the baby. About what she did to you.""It was my fault. I killed you."I listened, my face a mask.The second message."I got rid of Ornella. And her bastard.""Elena's locked away, too. But none of it brings you back."The third."I sold everything. The estate, the business

  • When Labor Became My Prison   Chapter 9

    Vittorio summoned his most trusted men that night."I want to know everything about the oxytocin," his voice was ice. "Every single detail.""Don, we already confirmed Ms. Ornella picked it up—""I want more," Vittorio cut him off. "Why did she want it? Who did she talk to? I want to know her every move."Three days later.Luca walked into my room with a satisfied smile."Signora, we have all the proof you wanted."He placed a file in front of me.The first photo made my blood run cold.Ornella in a motel room with a man who wasn't Vittorio.Her body was pressed against his, their lips locked.The time stamp on the photo: two months pregnant."Who's the man?" I asked."Roberto Santini. Second-in-command of the East Side crew," Luca answered. "A sworn enemy of the Falcones."I flipped the page.A DNA report.Subject: Son of Ornella Ricci.Alleged Father: Vittorio Falcone.Probability of Paternity: 0%.I laughed coldly. The so-called "heir" was the enemy's bastard."Has Vittorio seen thi

  • When Labor Became My Prison   Chapter 8

    I sat in the center of my father's war room on the Sicilian estate.A detailed map of Chicago hung on the wall, covered in small red flags.Each flag marked a Falcone family vulnerability."First shipment has been intercepted," Luca reported. "Thirty million in arms. Our guys 'anonymously' tipped off the Coast Guard on the high seas."I nodded, drawing an 'X' over a mark on the map."And the casinos?""The IRS hit three of their biggest fronts this morning," another man reported. "Took the books, everything. Vittorio's looking at a fifty-million-dollar loss. Easy."Another 'X'."The docks?""The East and South side ports have new owners. Our partners were happy to take over the business."I kept drawing X's on the map.One month.The Falcone empire, built over decades, was crumbling piece by piece."How's Vittorio holding up?" I asked.Luca pulled up a monitor.On the screen, Vittorio sat in his office, buried under a mountain of paperwork.He looked like hell. Gaunt, with deep, dark c

  • When Labor Became My Prison   Chapter 7

    The small chapel on the Falcone estate. Candles flickered, casting long, dancing shadows.Vittorio carried the small, shrouded coffin himself. He placed it before the altar.He waved everyone away."Don, you need to rest—" one of his men started."Out," Vittorio’s voice was ice. "All of you. Out."The doors closed, leaving him alone with the coffin.I watched it all through a hidden camera.Vittorio knelt before the coffin, perfectly still.Hours passed. The sky outside grew dark. He didn't move."What's he doing?" my father asked from behind me."His performance," I answered, my voice flat.The next day, and the day after that, Vittorio was still there.No food. No water. He didn't even stand up.His suit was a wrinkled mess. His face was covered in stubble, his eyes sunken.On the third night, Ornella finally showed up.She was holding the baby, dressed in an elegant black mourning dress.The hypocrisy of it all."Vittorio?" she called softly.Vittorio didn't turn around."You haven'

  • When Labor Became My Prison   Chapter 6

    The Moretti estate, Sicily.I sat in my father’s study, staring at a bank of monitors.The screens showed every corner of that private hospital in Chicago."The body is in the morgue," Luca reported from behind me. "Our man on the inside made sure there are no loose ends."I nodded, my eyes glued to the screens.The third monitor showed the party on the top floor.Vittorio stood there in a tailored suit, holding the baby.Ornella's son. The heir.Falcone family members crowded them, faces beaming.The clinking of champagne glasses, the sound of laughter, the endless congratulations."Congratulations, Don Vittorio!""The future of the family!""Marco would be so proud if he could see this!"I watched it all in silence.No one mentioned me. No one even asked where I was.It was like I never existed."The bastards," Luca spat. "While you were fighting for your life, they're popping champagne."I wonder, Vittorio. Will you still be celebrating when you find out I'm dead?On the monitor, Vi

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