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"What is going on here? What is all the screaming? Did I hear gun shots?" Lucia asks in alarm.
Mario hesitates, then lowers the gun.
Sara sobs. "Mamma, Lorenzo tried to shoot me. Dimitri saved me. I love him. I'm pregnant... with his baby."
Lucia's eyes widen in shock. She makes the sign of the cross. "Santa Maria!"
Mario turns angrily to his wife. "Our daughter's life is ruined! This Bratva scum has disgraced our family. And we will face not only the consequences of her lassitude but also of Lorenzo’s death. This could mean war between our families."
Lucia touches his arm gently. "Caro, what's happened has happened. We must now think of the child."
Sara nods, tears in her eyes. "I'm keeping this baby, with or without your blessing."
Mario shakes his head. "No daughter of mine will raise a bastard child."
"I'll marry Dimitri." Sara says. "If he'll have me…"
I step forward and take Sara's hand. "It would be my honor." I turn to Mario. "Sir, I'll care for Sara and our baby. Let me make this right."
Mario glares at me, then turns away and sits in an armchair, his head between his hands, pondering. Lucia sits near him, speaking to him quietly and stroking his arm.
I stand there, heart pounding, as Mario weighs his options. Though my face remains stoic, my heart is beating fast.
Never did I imagine I'd end up in this position. Me, Dimitri Morozov, a Bratva pakhan’s heir. I've bled for my family, killed for them. And yet here I am, prepared to break all codes of honor for the woman I love.
Love. Yes, I have felt that for Sara for a long time. This burning need to protect her, to claim her as mine? She's haunted my thoughts for so long, I can't imagine life without her. And now that she carries my child, even more so.
Mario's eyes bore into me. He could end my life with a flick of his finger. But I don't flinch from his glare.
"Please," Sara implores her father. "Don't punish Dimitri. Blame me for it, I am an adult, I am capable of making my own decisions. No one forced me to do what I did."
I squeeze her hand.
This child - our child - is sacred. I'll lay down my life to protect them both.
Mario turns from us, rubbing his temple. His wife touches his shoulder and whispers again in his ear. After a tense moment, he faces us again.
"I should kill you where you stand, Morozov," he growls.
I steel myself, prepared to shield Sara. But his next words shock me to the core.
"But you protected my daughter, and for that I'm in your debt. So I will allow this - this union." He spits out the words like they're poison.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Sara squeezes my hand, her body sagging against mine. "Thank you, sir.”
"Thank you, Papá," she says softly. A single tear trails down her cheek.
As traditional as the Amato’s are, I feared Mario would disown Sara rather than let her marry someone like me. A Bratva heir from a rival clan.
I meet Mario's steely gaze and nod respectfully. "You have my word, I will take good care of your daughter."
He scoffs. "See that you do. Or you'll answer to me." His hand rests meaningfully on the gun at his hip. The message is clear - if I ever hurt Sara, he won't hesitate to kill me.
I don't begrudge him that threat. As a father myself now, I understand. I'd do anything to protect my child.
Sara embraces her mother tearfully. Lucia pats her back and whispers soothing words in Italian. She gives me a small smile over Sara's shoulder. At least one of Sara's parents seems happy for us.
He holds up a hand. "But if you wed my daughter, you take her name. You must join our family, that is my condition. I will not have her marrying into the Bratva."
