“I was on birth control and somehow I still got pregnant.”
“Did the condoms break?” she asks.
“Nana, I don’t wish to talk about it.”
“This isn’t Nico’s baby?” she pushes.
My eyes widen. “Nico? How do you know about Nico?”
She chuckles. “You and your dad are alike in a lot of ways. He’s vented to me about that boy over the years. Says he won’t walk away from you. Said he came to his office looking for you.”
I jump to my feet, stumbling backward.
My grandmother swiftly approaches and grips my arm, steadying me. For seventy-two, she’s surprisingly strong.
“When did he see Dad?” I ask.
“Early this morning,” she answers.
My heart pounds fiercely against my ribs.
“Does he know I’m here?” I whisper, panic coursing through me.
“No,” she replies.
I close my eyes and blow out a breath.
“So you took a mafia man’s baby out of the country?”
Why is she pushing for this baby to be Nico’s?
“They’re both in the mafia. So yeah.”
She stares at me a beat. “When you want to really talk, I’m here.”
I offer a small smile. “Thank you, Nana.”
I feel bad about lying to my grandmother. Only one of the men is in the mafia, but I said they both were to shut down her line of questioning.
That night, I settle onto the bed in the room I’ve always stayed in whenever we come to visit my grandmother.
Thirty years have passed since my grandfather died—killed in a brutal mafia war. Nana never remarried, and I find myself wondering why.
I exhale deeply, my breath heavy, as my mind turns to the plans I’ve laid out for the coming thirty-five weeks.
Serenity Cichello is having a baby. It feels so far-fetched. Deep down, I wanted to marry and start a family with Nico Pitucco. Secretly in high school I doodled Serenity Pitucco in my notebook over a hundred times. That was before he broke my heart. If only he hadn’t broken my heart and we weren’t in the mafia, we could’ve been happy. I feel at ease knowing this baby is my little secret. Only a few people know about my pregnancy. It’s for the best. This child will be adopted into a good family.
When I close my eyes, I see Nico’s deep whiskey-brown gaze fixed on me as he says he wants me to be his wife. My breathstammers in my throat. I love him with a pain that cuts to the bone. Yet, I can never be with him. My heart will never belong to another man—it will always belong to Nico. Trying to date other men was agonizing. Every time Nico made love to me so intensely, I felt foolish for even attempting to let go of him. Now, miles away, all I want is to run back to him. I realize the longest I’ve been apart from him—almost a year. This time, I walked away for good. I’d threatened it countless times before.
The hollow coldness inside my cold, dead heart is what I deserve. I shattered my first love’s heart. The mafia boss had bared his soul to me, and I crushed it underfoot—not on purpose. I told him I was broken, wasn’t fit to marry or have children. Nico will have to marry soon. The thought twists my stomach. There’s no one to blame but myself.
My eyelids lower and the tears flow again as I doze off.
SERENITY
TWO WEEKS LATER
I bounce down the stairs on my way to my favorite room. The kitchen. Nana made another one of my favorite pasta dishes last night. Homemade Ravioli. I can’t wait to prepare a heaping plate.
