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“That, Alessio, is something we are going to find out,” he snarls, his fists curling into balls. “The war is about to begin.”
I direct my grin at the windshield. Fuck yes. It's time to end these motherfuckers once and for all. God fucking help them because no one else can.
Chapter 7
Gabriella
Nausea rolls through my body once again as bile empties out of me. This has been going on for over a week, and I know there's no denying it anymore. My boobs are tender and bigger, I’ve been getting sick in the mornings, and my period is late—something that it never is.
I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant.
I rest my head against the toilet seat and ponder what I'm going to do if I am pregnant. Do I wait for Alessio to return—something he may never do—or do what I've been wanting to do for the past six weeks and run? Things between Alessio and I were never meant to be the way they were. It was just meant to be one night of fun. The first night he came to my room, I got a taste of him. I became love-drunk. I was intoxicated on him.
Having the space between us made me realize just how stupid I had been. He's dangerous. His family is dangerous. I want out of this world. I don't want to be dragged further into it. My father has managed to keep me out of the limelight, making sure nobody knows who I am. If Alessio and I are together, everyone will know that I’m part of the life. They’ll dig further into my life and uncover who I am. That’s not something I want.It's not something I crave. I don't want that power. I don't want that accolade of being a woman of a powerful man. It's not something I have ever wanted for myself.
Growing up, I learned from a very young age that the criminal world takes precedence over everything, including children. I lived with the heartache of my father putting his world first and it broke me. It's not something I want for my child.
Once I finally finish throwing up, I sit back and wonder how the hell I got to this position. I'm always so careful. I take my pill every day like clockwork. I’ve never forgotten to take them. I always have an alarm to remind me. The time Alessio and I were together was crazy. Between the beating and shooting he took, along with the fear I felt as I brought him home, not to mention us being together, it was lunacy. But I still believe I took my pill.
How the hell could I be pregnant?
I shower and get ready for the day, my mind in overdrive as I think about what my future could be like with a child. I’m so thankful that I am not working today but I do need to buy a pregnancy test. I need a definitive answer on whether or not I am pregnant. Once I know for sure, I can make a decision on what I need to do next.
Two hours later, and I'm looking at two pink lines.
Positive.
I'm having Alessio Bianchi’s baby.
What the hell am I gonna do? This is not what I wanted, not what I envisioned for myself. I had so many plans. So many things I wanted to do, to achieve. I just can't believe this is happening to me.
As I stare at the two pink lines, I think about the life that's growing inside of me. I think about the baby that is mine, and I know that no matter what happens, I'll always protect him or her. But that means I can't have Alessio finding out about him orher. I know in my soul that if he finds out, he'll demand that I be with him. And that's not something I can do. I cannot live that life. I will not put myself in that position, and I definitely won't put my child into it either.
My panic starts to rise as I begin to wonder how I'm going to get out of this situation. I know there's only one person who can help me; a man I don't tend to go to for help. But someone who will help me no matter what. My dad. Our situation isn’t normal, and our relationship isn’t what others have, but I trust him, and I know that if there’s one person who’ll not judge me nor try to force me to do something, it’s him.
It takes me a little over thirty minutes to get to my father's house.
When I arrive, his wife, Christina, opens the door. She’s dressed head-to-toe in designer outfits, and gold jewelry coats her neck, wrists, and fingers. She looks every bit like she just walked off the runway.
She glares at me. The woman knows who I am, and she absolutely hates me. I am a reminder that my father cheated on her.
“Is Joe here?” I ask, keeping my head held high. As much as the woman despises me, I won’t let her make me cower beneath the darkening looks she gives me.
She opens the door further for me to come in but doesn't speak a word to me—something that isn’t out of the ordinary. If she could, she’d pretend I don’t exist.
I follow behind her as her heels click against the marble floor. This house is huge. It’s almost as though it’s a museum. There’s art and sculptures everywhere. Every shelf is filled with innate objects, things Christina loves, all of which cost more than a normal person’s mortgage. I dutifully follow her as she weaves through the house, toward my father’s office. It’s so huge, it's a wonder no one has gotten lost in this place. There’s only Joe andChristina who live here. I know Joe buys everything Christina wants in a bid to keep her happy.
“Joe,” her nasally voice calls out. “Thatwoman is here to see you,” she says with as much disdain as possible.
My father walks out of his office, his brows narrowing as he glances at his wife. They widen ever so slightly when he sees me. The smile he gives me is bright and welcoming. As bad as things have been between us in the past, he’s always shown me that he cares. I just don't come above his work. His empire comes first, and that's something I have come to live with, even though it still hurts me to this day.
He directs me into his office, just as his wife tells him she's leaving. I know it's because I'm in her house and she doesn't like me. Christina doesn't like what I represent: what she doesn't have. And my heart hurts for her because if the tables were turned, I don't think I could stay with a man who cheated on me and impregnated another woman.
I take a seat and wait for my father to close the door. “Hey, Gab, is everything okay?”
I can’t hold back the tears any longer. I’ve been holding my emotions in check for almost three hours, and right now, I don’t have the energy to hold them back any longer. My body wracks with sobs as the tears slowly cascade down my face.
“I messed up,” I tell him. “I made a huge mistake, Dad. I need your help.”
