The Night My Womb Warned Me

Tony’s expression didn’t flicker. He simply retrieved them, bagged them discreetly, and passed them over.

“Thanks, Tony. About this…”

“I didn’t see a thing, Mrs. Marino,” Tony said. He knew the score.

Back at the estate, I ran straight to the master bathroom.

I ripped open the packages and followed the instructions.

The three-minute wait felt like three centuries.

The results came back.

Three tests. All of them showed a single line.

Not pregnant?!

I reread the instructions in disbelief. Nope. Two lines meant pregnant.

I collapsed onto the floor, my mind racing.

When was the last time we’d been together?

Vegas, two weeks ago… but that felt too recent.

The wild night in Napa before that?

My thoughts were a panicked jumble.

Maybe it was just too early to tell. But the single pink line felt like a death sentence.

[Don’t panic, Mom,] my son’s voice soothed me. [Right now, the most important thing is to hold on to Dad! Give it some time, the test will be positive soon!]

Right. My son was right.

I took a deep breath and decided to find Cassian in the study.

If I couldn't prove I was pregnant, it was time for Plan B: Seduction. I’d remind him exactly what he was about to lose.

I changed into my sexiest silk nightgown, spritzed on the perfume he loved, and tiptoed toward the study.

It was empty.

I searched the house and finally found him in the living room.

Cassian was sitting on the fifty-thousand-dollar Italian leather sofa, a Cuban cigar in his hand. The air around him was heavy, dangerous.

Shrouded in smoke, he looked less like a man and more like a devil surveying his personal hell.

“Cassian…” I said softly, ready to turn on the charm.

He looked up at me, and his cold expression made the words die in my throat.

“If you’ve made up your mind about leaving,” he said, flicking the ash from his cigar, his voice flat, “the lawyers will be here tomorrow.”

“The Manhattan penthouse. Your boutique on Oak Street. And a fifty-million-dollar trust fund. They’re yours.”

Fifty million?!

A sharp pain shot through my chest.

I knew it was pocket change for the Marino family, but it was enough for a lifetime of luxury.

But I didn’t want it.

The back of my throat burned. My eyes stung with fresh tears.

“I’m not leaving, Cassian,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m Mrs. Marino forever. You’re not getting rid of me.”

And I’m not letting that bitch Oriana take my place, I thought.

Besides, once this crisis blew over, Cassian would shower me with far more. Why settle for crumbs?

Cassian’s expression was still grim, but it softened slightly.

He put out his cigar. “Whatever you decide,” he said, his voice tired, “I’ll give you your freedom when you want it.”

He stood up to leave.

“Wait!” I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind.

God, even through the fine cotton of his shirt, his abs were pure steel. I couldn’t resist. My fingers tightened, just for a second.

“Where are you going?” I looked up at him, putting on my most pitiful face.

“The docks. We have ‘cargo’ arriving.” His voice was ice. “This is family business. Not for you.”

I knew exactly what he meant by ‘cargo.’ It wasn’t a legitimate shipment.

Cassian broke my hold and strode toward the door.

Watching his back disappear, a wave of panic hit me.

“Cassian!” I shouted. “Come home soon! I’ll be waiting for you!”

I’ll be waiting. The baby and I will be waiting. I couldn’t say the last part.

Cassian paused in the doorway, his back to me. For a long second, the only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock.

Then, without turning, he gave a low grunt. “Hmph.”