Then his voice came through the phone.

“Answer me.”

My attorney, Victoria Hayes, glanced at me.

I was sitting across from her desk, my hands resting protectively over my stomach.

“Mr. Romano, your wife is approximately four months pregnant.”

The silence that followed was so complete that Victoria checked whether the call had disconnected.

Then Adrian spoke.

“That’s impossible.”

Victoria remained professional.

“I’m afraid it isn’t.”

“When did she find out?”

“According to the medical records, she discovered the pregnancy several weeks ago.”

“Several weeks?”

His voice rose.

“And she didn’t tell me?”

Victoria looked at me again.

I shook my head.

“Mrs. Romano has chosen to proceed with the divorce independently. She has also made it clear that she does not wish to receive financial support beyond what is legally required for the child.”

Adrian let out a short, disbelieving breath.

“Put my wife on the phone.”

Victoria covered the receiver.

“Elena, he wants to speak with you.”

I stared at the telephone.

For eight years, I had answered every call from Adrian, no matter the hour.

At two in the morning.

During business dinners.

In the middle of important meetings.

I’d always answered.

This time, I shook my head.

Victoria returned to the call.

“Mrs. Romano isn’t ready to speak with you.”

“Tell her I’ll come home.”

“Mr. Romano, that isn’t what she wants.”

“I didn’t ask what she wants.”

His voice became colder.

“I’m coming.”

The call ended.

I closed my eyes.

I knew Adrian.

He could negotiate with judges, intimidate politicians, and make powerful men reconsider decisions with a single look.

But he had never learned how to accept that someone might leave him.

And this time, I wasn’t coming back.

At 10:36 that morning, Adrian walked into his private office.

His right-hand man, Marco Bellini, immediately noticed something was wrong.

Adrian had dismissed two meetings, ignored three calls, and spent the last twenty minutes staring at a single document.

A medical report.

Fourteen weeks.

Estimated delivery date: April.

Marco placed a folder on the desk.

“Boss, the meeting with the DeLuca family is scheduled for noon.”

“Cancel it.”

Marco blinked.

“Today?”

Adrian looked up.

“Did I stutter?”

“No, boss.”

Marco turned to leave.

“Marco.”

He stopped.

“How long has Elena been seeing a doctor?”

“I don’t know.”

“Find out.”

Marco hesitated.

“Is something wrong with Mrs. Romano?”

Adrian’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“She is pregnant.”

For the first time in nearly fifteen years working beside him, Marco forgot to hide his surprise.

“Congratulations, boss.”

Adrian didn’t smile.

“She filed for divorce.”

Marco’s expression changed.

“And the baby?”

Adrian looked down at the report.

“My child.”

Two words.

He said them quietly, almost as if he were testing how they sounded.

Then he picked up his phone.

“Get the car.”

I was at my apartment when the first knock came.

Not an ordinary knock.

Three firm strikes.

I knew who it was before I reached the door.

When I opened it, Adrian stood in the hallway wearing the same charcoal suit he’d worn the previous night.

His tie was loose.

His eyes were bloodsH๏τ.

He looked at me.

Then his gaze dropped to my stomach.

For the first time in eight years, I saw Adrian Romano completely unprepared for something.

“Elena.”

I held the door.

“Why are you here?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at my stomach again.

“Four months?”

“Yes.”

“You’re carrying my child?”

I almost laughed.

“Who else would it be?”

His jaw тιԍнтened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I leaned against the doorframe.

“When exactly was I supposed to tell you, Adrian?”

He frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“The night you told me Bianca needed you? The morning you asked me to sign the divorce papers? Or perhaps when you explained that we could still be family because you expected me to keep looking after you?”

He looked away.

I continued.

“I found out three weeks ago. I sat in a doctor’s office alone. I heard my baby’s heartbeat alone. I went home and cried alone.”

“Elena—”

“You were busy planning your new life.”

“I didn’t know.”

“No. You didn’t ask.”

Those four words landed harder than I expected.

Adrian stepped closer, but I didn’t move.

“Let me see the report.”

“No.”

“I’m the father.”

“And I’m the mother.”

His expression hardened.

“Don’t make this difficult.”

I stared at him.

Then something inside me finally broke free from eight years of careful silence.

“Difficult? You want to talk about difficult?”

My voice trembled.

“Do you know how many nights I waited for you to come home? How many holidays I spent alone? How many times I sat at a hospital beside your bed while your men stood outside the room?”

He said nothing.

“I knew every medication you took. Every allergy. Every warning sign that meant you were getting sick. I knew when you were in pain before you admitted it.”

I swallowed.

“But you didn’t know your wife was pregnant.”

Adrian’s face changed.

For once, he had no answer.

Then he said something I wasn’t expecting.

“Come home.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

“Elena, this is your home.”

“Not anymore.”

“I’m ending things with Bianca.”

I looked at him.

“That isn’t the point.”

“She won’t be part of our lives.”

“You still don’t understand.”

He took another step.

“I can fix this.”

I placed one hand over my stomach.

“You can buy another building. Replace a business partner. Make a problem disappear. But you cannot purchase the eight years I spent believing I was your family.”

His eyes followed my hand.

Then, very quietly, he asked:

“Can I feel the baby?”

I hesitated.

For a moment, I saw the man I had married.

Not the Chicago mafia boss.

Not the man whose name made people lower their voices.

Just Adrian.

But I stepped back.

“Not today.”

His expression fell.

And I closed the door.

That evening, Bianca DeLuca arrived at Adrian’s mansion wearing a cream-colored dress and carrying a bottle of expensive champagne.

She had expected to celebrate.

Instead, she found Adrian standing in his study, staring at the fireplace.

“Adrian?”

He didn’t turn.

“We need to talk.”

She placed the champagne on the table.

“About Elena?”

“About us.”

Bianca smiled cautiously.

“I thought we were finally moving forward.”

Adrian turned.

“My wife is pregnant.”

The smile disappeared.

“What?”

“Four months.”

Bianca stared at him.

Then she forced a small laugh.

“Well, that’s unexpected.”

“Unexpected?”

“I mean, Adrian, you and Elena haven’t been close in months. How could she—”

“Watch your words.”

Bianca stopped.

He approached the desk and placed a copy of the medical report on it.

“This is my child.”

Bianca glanced at the document.

Then she looked back at him.

“So what happens now?”

Adrian’s expression was unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

She folded her arms.

“Are you going to abandon everything we planned because Elena suddenly announces she’s pregnant?”

The room went silent.

Adrian studied her for several seconds.

Then he asked:

“Did you just call my child an inconvenience?”

Bianca’s face тιԍнтened.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then explain what you meant.”

She looked toward the fireplace.

“Adrian, be realistic. You wanted a divorce. You told me you were finished with that marriage.”

“I was.”

“And now?”

He didn’t answer.

Bianca moved closer.

“You promised me a future.”

Adrian looked at her.

“And you knew I was married.”

Her lips parted.

“I thought you were going to leave her.”

“I am leaving her.”

“Then why does this baby change anything?”

Adrian’s eyes turned cold.

“Because whatever happened between Elena and me, that child has done nothing wrong.”

Bianca stared at him.

For the first time, she seemed to understand that she might never occupy the place she had imagined.

At 11:48 p.m., my phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number.

I answered cautiously.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice came through.

“Mrs. Romano? This is Marco Bellini.”

I sat up.

“Is Adrian all right?”

There was a brief pause.

“Physically, yes.”

“What happened?”

“Boss hasn’t eaten since this morning. He’s been in his office looking at the medical report.”

I closed my eyes.

“Marco, I’m not responsible for reminding him to eat anymore.”

“I understand.”

His voice softened.

“But there’s something else you should know.”

I waited.

“Boss ordered the security team to stay away from your apartment unless you specifically request ᴀssistance. He also instructed us not to interfere with your attorney or your medical appointments.”

That surprised me.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he wanted me to make sure you knew.”

I said nothing.

Then Marco added:

“He also asked me to find out whether the baby is healthy.”

My hand moved instinctively to my stomach.

“The baby is fine.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Romano.”

He hesitated before speaking again.

“There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“Miss DeLuca came to the mansion tonight. She left shortly afterward.”

I wasn’t sure why he was telling me.

Then he said:

“Boss told her not to return.”

I stared at the dark window.

For a moment, I felt something close to sadness.

Not because I wanted Adrian back.

But because I remembered how desperately I had once wanted him to choose me without needing to lose me first.

“Good night, Marco.”

“Good night, ma’am.”

I ended the call.

Then I placed the phone beside me and whispered to my unborn child.

“It’s going to be all right. Whatever happens, you will never have to wonder whether you’re loved.”

The following morning, my attorney called.

“Elena, there’s a development.”

I sat at the kitchen table.

“What happened?”

“Adrian’s attorney contacted me. He’s requesting an immediate meeting.”

I sighed.

“If it’s about money, the answer is still no.”

“It’s not about money.”

“Then what?”

Victoria lowered her voice.

“He wants to discuss custody.”

My stomach тιԍнтened.

“Already?”

“Yes. But there’s something unusual.”

“What?”

“He isn’t asking for full custody. He’s requesting a formal agreement guaranteeing that he will be involved in the child’s life from birth.”

I looked down at my stomach.

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.

Then Victoria continued.

“And Elena, he has made another request.”

“What request?”

“He wants to attend your next ultrasound.”

I closed my eyes.

Eight years.

Eight years of wishing Adrian would show up for the little things.

And now, when I had finally learned to live without expecting him, he wanted to be there for the biggest thing of all.

I didn’t know what to say.

Then Victoria spoke again.

“There’s one more issue. Adrian’s family has found out about the pregnancy.”

My fingers тιԍнтened around the phone.

“His family?”

“Yes. Specifically, his mother.”

I went cold.

Adrian’s mother, Isabella Romano, had never accepted me.

She believed I was too ordinary for her son, too independent to understand the Romano family, and too stubborn to know my place.

And she had spent eight years making sure I never forgot it.

Victoria paused.

“Apparently, she has already contacted Adrian.”

“What did she say?”

My attorney took a breath.

“She says the Romano heir must be raised inside the family estate.”

I looked toward the window.

Then I heard Victoria deliver the sentence that made my blood run cold.

“Elena, your mother-in-law is threatening to challenge your custody request before the baby is even born.”

And suddenly, I understood.

Adrian’s affair had never been the only battle waiting for me.

The real fight for my child was just beginning.

End of Part 2.