She laughs softly. “You need to eat up. Remember, you’re eating for two now.”
My grandmother stands just four-foot-eleven—small but fiery.
She’ll curse you out in Italian in two seconds if you get out of line.
I know not to cross my grandmother.
Being married to an Italian gangster must have hardened her somehow.
I can’t help but wonder if she’d ever laid eyes on a dead body or helped torture her husband’s enemies.
My nana is beautiful. Her skin is smooth and sun-kissed. Her large, gray eyes sparkle beneath perfectly arched brows, and her heart-shaped lips curve into a knowing smile. Though she’s seventy-two, she looks no older than sixty. Her long, dark hair istied loosely in a low ponytail, cascading down her back, brushing the seat.
When I arrived on the front doorstep of her mansion, I introduced her to the new bodyguards my father had assigned to protect me. They stepped inside to thoroughly sweep the house for any listening devices. Though Nana has her own security team and I trust the place is secure, my father prefers to be extra cautious.
As soon as I crossed the threshold, our eyes met, and I unraveled. I collapsed into her embrace, her hands gently rubbing my back.
“Let it all out, Serenity,” she urged, her thick Italian accent wrapping around the words.
Nana pulled back, cupping my face, her gaze traveling over me. “Serenity, are you pregnant?”
How had she guessed? We FaceTime’d often, but maybe it was the tears betraying me.
“Yes,” I whispered.
She guided me to the sofa, sitting down and letting me rest my head on her lap as I cried myself to sleep. I went from holding back tears to sobbing uncontrollably every few minutes. Stupid hormones. I told myself the crying would stop once the baby was here. On the jet, I’d ordered several baby books to help on my pregnancy journey. They should arrive soon.
“How many days do I get to spend with my granddaughter?” she asks, pulling me back from my thoughts.
I glance at her as she sips her Italian coffee.
“I’ll be in Italy for a long time. If I can stay here for a little while. Just until I find a house.”
She grabs my hand. “You will stay right here until you’re ready to return to America.”
My heart lurches in my chest at the mention of home.
My shoulders relax. “Thank you, Nana.”
I peek at the half-eaten lasagna, then at her. “I’m not returning to America.”
Her jaw drops. “Serenity Francessca Cichello, are you running from your problems?”
I lift my head. “If I were running from my problems, I would’ve attended high school here. I will face those bastards, eventually.” I run a protective hand over my belly.
My grandmother knows all about the hell I endured at fourteen. She wanted me to live with her then, but I couldn’t’t do it. I was in and out of the psychiatric ward all summer before I started at my new high school.
“I refuse to let them take my baby. I’m placing my child for adoption, and it will be a closed one.”
She stands there, mouth hanging open. “What did the child’s father say about you leaving the country and putting his child up for adoption?” she demands bluntly.
“This is my baby,” I answer with unwavering conviction.
She lifts a brow. “Did you go to a sperm bank?”
I slide my hand over my wavy hair. “No. I slept with two men. I don’t know who the father is.”
She grips my hand tighter now. “So you slept with both men without using protection?”
