Page 49 of Deadly Don's Fake Wife

My heart skips a beat, and my stomach twists with apprehension. “What is it?” I ask, my voice tinged with concern.

She takes a deep breath, her hand trembling slightly in mine. “I’m pregnant,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, I’m speechless as the magnitude of her words sinks in. But then, a surge of joy floods me, overwhelming me with happiness. “That’s incredible news!” “We’re going to be parents.”

“I was scared to tell you,” she admits, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t know how you would react.”

I pull her into my arms, holding her close as I whisper words of reassurance. “Lisa, my love,” I say, my voice gentle but firm, “we’re married now, for real this time. I will love and protect you and our baby with all that I am. We’re in this together, now and always.”

“Ahem . . .”

We turn in the direction of the voice and see an altar boy.

“Father Carmine wants to see you, sir,” he says.

“Give me a second,” I say to Lisa before following the boy.

As we walk, I admire the rays of light filtering through the church’s stained-glass windows that cast colorful patterns on the stone floor on the way to Father Carmine’s office. His request for a private conversation fills me with a sense of unease, and a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me something is amiss.

As I step into the small, dimly lit room, Father Carmine looks up from his desk, his expression serious. “Have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward the chair opposite him.

I comply, my heart pounding as I wait for him to speak. Father Carmine takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he meets my eyes. “Frank, I wanted to speak with you privately because . . . well, I’ve made a rather unexpected discovery.”

I raise an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. “What kind of discovery?” I ask.

He hesitates for a moment before continuing. “Before I officiated your real wedding with Lisa, I decided to research her family history,” he says. “And what I found was . . . well, it was quite surprising.”

My heart skips a beat as a sense of foreboding settles over me like a heavy shroud. “What did you find?”

Father Carmine reaches into his desk drawer, pulls out a faded photograph, and hands it to me. “Take a look at this,” he says.

I take the photograph and study it closely, my breath catching as I realize what I’m seeing. In the black-and-white image, a stern-looking man stands beside a young woman, her expression also somber. It takes me a moment to recognize them, but a chill runs down my spine when I do.

“That’s Lisa’s great-grandfather, a famous Italian Mafia don from Sicily” Father Carmine says, confirming my suspicions. “And that woman . . . well, that’s her mother.”

I feel the ground being pulled out from under me as my mind reels with the implications of what he has just revealed. Lisa . . . of Mafia blood? It’s a truth I never could have imagined, and it shatters the image of the woman I thought I knew.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” I stammer, my voice thick with emotion. “How do I tell Lisa?”

Father Carmine places a hand on my shoulder, his touch reassuring. “I know this is a lot to take in,” he says, “but I trust that you will find the right words. Lisa loves you, and she deserves to know the truth.”

I nod, grateful for his guidance. “Thank you, Father,” I say quietly. “I’ll figure out how to tell Lisa, and I’ll tell her when the time is right.”

As I leave Father Carmine’s office and return to the sanctuary, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions. How will Lisa react when she learns the truth about her family history? More importantly, how will it affect our relationship?

I wonder if she’ll find this to be good news like I do. After all, this will shut every mouth that has ever questioned if she’s good enough for me. It will make her worthy of her place by my side, both in her eyes and in the eyes of others.

I have to tread carefully, though, where this news is concerned. My own excitement will have to take a back seat.

I find Lisa waiting for me near the church entrance, and her eyes brighten when she sees me approach. “What did Father want to talk to you about?” she asks.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation ahead but trying not to give away any hints at the moment. “Let’s talk about it at home,” I say.

Lisa nods, sensing the gravity of the situation. Without another word, we leave the church and get into the hearse, the weight of Father Carmine’s revelation hanging heavy between us.

Chapter 23

Lisa

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