PART 2 — The Woman Who Carried His Heir
Nobody moved.
For one breath, the boutique existed inside a glass box of silence.
Then Luca raised one hand.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
Just enough.
Every bodyguard froze.
Their hands stayed near their jackets, but no weapon came out. No one breathed wrong. No one blinked without permission.
That was Luca’s power.
He did not need to shout.
He only needed to exist.
“Outside,” he said.
One word.
His men immediately moved to secure the boutique doors. The saleswoman behind the counter went pale.
“No,” I snapped. “You are not turning this store into one of your private prisons.”
Luca’s gaze did not leave my face. “There are four exits. Two on Madison. One service entrance. One rear corridor. None of them are safe until I know who followed you.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “You think someone followed me?”
“I know someone did.”
The certainty in his voice chilled me.
Vanessa stepped forward, her smile returning in a thinner, sharper shape. “Luca, darling, maybe we should discuss this somewhere more private.”
Darling.
The word struck harder than it should have.
I had no claim on him. I had signed divorce papers with shaking hands and a dead heart. I had told myself a hundred times that Luca’s life no longer belonged anywhere near mine.
But seeing her touch his arm while carrying his child beneath my ribs made something inside me twist.
Luca pulled away from Vanessa without looking at her.
Her expression cracked.
Only for a moment.
But I saw it.
So did she.
“You were buying a crib,” Luca said.
His voice changed when he looked at the pale oak frame beside me. Softer, almost confused, as though the object itself had wounded him.
I swallowed. “I was leaving.”
“You were hiding.”
“I was surviving.”
That finally hit him.
His jaw flexed. “From me?”
I stared at him.
The answer sat between us, heavy and unforgivable.
His face hardened, but not with anger. With something worse.
Recognition.
Before he could speak, Vanessa laughed lightly. “This is touching, truly. But let’s be realistic. She vanished for months, shows up pregnant, and suddenly expects you to believe—”
Luca turned to her.
“Finish that sentence carefully.”
Vanessa’s mouth closed.
The warning was quiet, but everyone felt it.
A customer near the bassinet display began crying softly. One of Luca’s men guided her away from the windows. Another spoke into a hidden earpiece. The store had transformed from luxury showroom to battlefield without a single shot.
And I stood in the center of it, eight months pregnant, barefoot in fear even though my shoes were still on.
My baby kicked hard.
Pain flashed across my lower abdomen.
I winced.
Luca saw it instantly.
His entire posture changed.
“Bella.”
“I said don’t call me that.”
“You’re in pain.”
“I’m pregnant. Pain is part of the arrangement.”
His eyes lowered again, and this time there was no calculation in them. Only fear.
Real fear.
I had never seen Luca Moretti afraid of anything.
That frightened me more than his anger.
A tall bodyguard approached from the entrance. “Boss, black sedan across the street. No plates. It pulled up two minutes after she entered.”
My stomach dropped.
Luca looked at me. “Who knows where you live?”
“No one.”
“Isabella.”
“No one,” I repeated, but my voice shook.
His eyes narrowed. “Who helped you disappear?”
I hesitated too long.
That was all Luca needed.
His expression went cold. “Marco.”
My chest tightened.
Marco Bellini had been Luca’s cousin, driver, and one of the only men in that world who had ever treated me like a person instead of property. He had helped me get out the night I ran. A train ticket. Cash. A new phone. A warning.
Do not let Luca find you until the baby is born.
I had never asked why.
Now I wished I had.
Luca’s voice dropped. “Marco told me you left the country.”
“He saved my life.”
Luca’s eyes flashed. “He lied to me.”
“Maybe because telling you the truth would have gotten me dragged back into your house.”
“My house protected you.”
“No, Luca. Your house watched me.”
The words cut through him.
For a moment, the mafia boss disappeared.
The man left behind looked almost young.
Almost like my husband.
Then Vanessa ruined it.
“She’s manipulating you,” she said. “You know that, don’t you? She disappears, hides a pregnancy, walks into the most public boutique in Manhattan, and now suddenly there is a mysterious car outside?”
I looked at her. “You think I planned this?”
“I think women like you survive by making powerful men feel guilty.”
“Women like me?”
Her smile sharpened. “Abandoned women.”
Luca’s head turned slowly.
The room went colder.
Vanessa realized too late that she had stepped over an invisible line.
“I meant—”
“No,” Luca said. “You meant exactly what you said.”
Before he could say more, a sharp sound cracked through the boutique.
Not a gunshot.
Glass.
The front window spiderwebbed as something struck it from outside.
Everyone screamed.
Luca moved faster than I had ever seen.
He crossed the space between us and pulled me behind him, his body shielding mine before I could react.
His men formed a wall around us.
A second impact hit the glass.
This time, a small black device rolled across the marble floor.
One of the bodyguards shouted, “Down!”
Panic exploded.
Customers dropped behind cribs. Employees ducked under counters. Vanessa grabbed Luca’s sleeve, but he shook her off and pushed me toward the rear corridor.
“Move.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He looked back at me, furious now. “This is not a negotiation.”
“It never is with you.”
The device on the floor began blinking.
A bodyguard kicked it beneath a heavy display table and slammed the table over it. A burst of smoke hissed out, flooding the showroom with gray vapor.
Not an explosion.
A distraction.
Luca cursed under his breath.
“They want her alive,” he said.
My blood went cold.
Alive.
Not dead.
That meant the danger was not random.
It meant someone knew exactly who I was.
Or what I carried.
Luca grabbed my hand.
I tried to pull away, but another pain tore across my stomach.
This one was sharper.
I doubled over.
Luca caught me.
His arm went around my back, steady and terrifyingly familiar.
“Bella?”
Something warm slid down my leg.
My heart stopped.
No.
Not now.
Not here.
I looked down.
The marble floor beneath me glistened.
Luca saw it too.
For the first time, he did not look like a boss, a monster, or a king.
He looked like a man about to lose everything.
“My water broke,” I whispered.
Vanessa stared at me, horrified.
Outside, tires screamed against the street.
One of Luca’s men shouted from the doorway, “They’re coming in through the rear!”
Luca lifted me into his arms before I could protest.
I clutched his coat, breathless from pain and fear.
“I’m not going back to your world,” I gasped.
His eyes locked on mine.
“No,” he said. “This time, my world is going to answer to you.”
He carried me through the smoke toward the rear corridor.
Then the service door burst open.
A man stepped inside wearing a black mask, holding up one hand as if Luca’s men would not dare touch him.
In his other hand was a phone.
On the screen was a live video of my Brooklyn townhouse.
And standing outside my front door was Marco Bellini.
Bound.
Bleeding.
Alive.
May you like
The masked man smiled.
“Congratulations, Mr. Moretti,” he said. “Your heir just became the most valuable child in New York.”
