With His Baby, Without Him

The night before I was supposed to marry the heir to the Moretti family, I found a string of ninety-nine filthy texts on my fiancé Leo’s phone.

A woman named Ava Collins, telling him she loved him. Shameless. Desperate.

She was begging him to call off our wedding, threatening to kill herself if he went through with it.

I didn’t waste a second.

I shoved the phone in his face and demanded an explanation.

The silence stretched for an eternity before he finally broke.

“Her brother was Liam. My underboss. He took a bullet for me. My bullet. I promised him I’d look after her.”

"Jennifer, we grew up together. You know it’s you. It’s always been you. I swear, I’ll handle it. I’ll cut her off."

I searched his eyes, hunting for the lie.

I swallowed the acid in my throat and chose to believe him. The wedding was on.

This was bigger than us.

It was a treaty signed in blood between two families.

And God help me, I still loved him.

But on our wedding day, as we stood at the altar, vows on our lips, Leo got the call.

It was her. Ava.

On a bridge, threatening to jump. Demanding he come. Now.

The diamond ring, a breath away from my finger, clattered to the stone floor of the church.

Not a word.

Not a single explanation.

He just left. Left me, our families, our future... left me standing alone at the altar.

Through a blur of tears, I screamed after him, "Leo, if you walk out that door, we are done!"

His only reply, tossed over his shoulder, “She needs me.”

He never looked back.

Carrying his child, I vanished from his world and never looked back.

...

"Do you take this ring, as a symbol of your vow to the Moretti family?"

The priest's voice boomed through the hallowed church.

Leo held the family signet ring, the heavy gold passed down for five generations.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered, "I've waited my entire life for this, Jennifer."

The pews were lined with Chicago's most powerful families, their eyes on us like daggers.

I looked into Leo's deep brown eyes. "I do."

The ring touched the tip of my finger.

Leo was about to say his "I do."

Then his private line buzzed, the one only three people had the number to.

His father, his underboss Marco, and me.

But his father was overseas.

And Marco and I were standing right here.

So who on earth was calling?

Leo frowned and glanced at the screen.

The color drained from his face.

The hand holding mine trembled, and he almost dropped the phone.

"Leo?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer. He just turned his back to me and took the call.

"What? Where are you?" Leo's voice was tight with panic. "Don't do anything stupid! I'm on my way."

The ring slipped from his hand and fell onto the crimson runner.

A hush fell over the entire church.

Two hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on us.

Leo hung up and looked at me, his eyes full of apology. "Jennifer, I have to go."

"Now?" I couldn't believe it. "Leo, we haven't finished our vows."

"She's going to jump," Leo breathed, more to himself than to me. "I can't let her die."

A cold dread snaked up my spine. "It's Ava, isn't it?"

Leo was already turning to leave. He paused, without looking back. "She… she needs me."

And then he ran.

At our wedding, in front of every family that mattered, Leo Moretti abandoned his bride.

The crowd erupted in whispers.

I heard the angry muttering from the Moretti elders, heard the crack of my father's fist hitting the armrest of his chair.

Marco rushed to the altar. "Everyone, please, stay calm. This is… an emergency."

My father stood up. "What emergency is worth breaking a vow before God?"

"Ava Collins is on the Clark Street Bridge, threatening to jump," Marco said, his voice tight. "She's unstable. If the cops get involved, it brings heat on both families."

I thought about last night’s texts. About Leo swearing she meant nothing to him.

It felt like a shard of ice had pierced my heart.

I stood frozen at the altar in my million-dollar gown, the Moretti signet ring burning a cold circle on my skin, halfway to my knuckle.

Two hundred pairs of eyes, all on me. Waiting.

I pulled out my own burner.

I dialed Leo.

Busy.

Again.

Busy.

Thirteen times.

Thirteen times, his ghost answered. Voicemail.

"Jennifer, maybe we should…" Marco tried to calm me.

"Shut. Up." Each word was a shard of ice. He flinched, taking a step back.

Five. Whole. Hours.

I waited at that altar for five hours.

The first hour, I lied to myself. He’ll be back. It's just an emergency.

The second hour, the stares of our guests felt like they were peeling my skin back.

By the third hour, the whispers had faded to a suffocating silence as pews emptied.

My heart wasn’t just broken; it was a block of ice in my chest.

I kept tracing the ring on my finger.

First, to feel its promise. Then, to wrench it off.

Finally, nothing. I felt nothing at all.

Even the core members of our families couldn't take it anymore.

My mother came to my side. "Jennifer, sweetheart, let's go home."

"No." I shook my head. "The vows aren't finished."

"The vow is broken," my father's voice was pure venom. "This is an insult to the Rossi name."

I felt dizzy.

Maybe from not eating. Maybe because my heart was shattering.

"I need to be alone."

I walked to the confessional booth at the back of the church.

The small wooden box gave me a sliver of safety.

I knelt on the bench and folded my hands. "Forgive me, Father, for the sin I am about to commit."

Silence answered.

Only the oppressive darkness of the confessional.

My vision tunneled.

The air grew thick, impossible to breathe.

Then, black.

When I woke up, I was in a bed at the Rossi family's private clinic.

The ceiling was white, the lights blinding.

I tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea hit me.

"Don't move, Jennifer," Dr. Romano, our family doctor, said, walking over. "You were dehydrated, low blood sugar."

"Where's Leo?" I asked.

"He hasn't come back yet," Dr. Romano said, avoiding my eyes. "But… there's something I need to tell you."

My heart started to pound. "What is it?"

"You're pregnant. About six weeks."

The world went silent.

Pregnant.

I was carrying the Moretti heir.

A bitter, hysterical laugh tried to claw its way up my throat.

What a cruel, cruel joke.

The door opened.

My father and a few family elders walked in.

Their eyes held a mix of emotions.

Anger, calculation… but under it all, a flicker of hope.

Their eyes weren't on me.

They were on my stomach.

As if my womb was the last chip on the table, the only thing that could salvage their pride.

"Jennifer," my father said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "This is good news. The Morettis will have to come crawling back to us. The alliance won't be broken…"

I couldn't hear a word he was saying. All I could see was Leo's face.

I remembered growing up with him.

I always knew I'd marry him.

From kids playing games to our first real kiss, I never once doubted his love for me.

We trained together, learned the family business together.

He taught me to shoot, I helped him with the books.

We made a blood oath.

But today, in front of God, he chose another woman.

He stomped on our love, on our family's honor.

Dr. Romano checked my blood pressure. "Congratulations, Jennifer. This child... this child is the future of both our families."

I closed my eyes, tears burning behind them.

I couldn't speak.

The heir they’ve all been waiting for?

I’m keeping him.

But he will never be a Moretti. He will be a Rossi.

As for me and Leo… we’re done.