Page 80 of Stolen Queen

Pregnant? Me? Now?

I place a hand on my stomach, trying to imagine there's really a life growing inside me. A baby. Matteo's baby.

The thought sends a confusing mix of emotions through me. Fear, excitement, panic, wonder. How would Matteo react? Would he be happy? Angry? Would this put us in even more danger?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I don't know anything for sure yet. It could just be stress causing my symptoms. Or maybe I have the flu. I shouldn't jump to conclusions.

I finally find a new tube of toothpaste and brush my teeth as my thoughts race on what I should do next. I need a pregnancy test. I feel like I need secrecy in getting one, but I won’t daredefy Matteo and leave this place to get one. Not because he’ll be angry. No, I need to show him respect. I need to show that I understand how it scares him when I leave.

After a long internal debate, I decide to order some groceries to be delivered to the penthouse. Among the items, including a bottle of electrolyte water to rehydrate and replenish my body, I add a pregnancy test.

The store is overwhelmed with orders. The final page of the order indicates that it will be a few hours before they can deliver. That’s okay. I can occupy my time. I’ve gotten good at it. First, I nap because I’m so tired. Then I try to distract myself by reading, but I struggle to focus on the words. My mind keeps drifting back to the possibility of a baby growing inside me.

Finally, the intercom buzzes, announcing the arrival of my groceries. I hurry to collect them, bringing the bags into the kitchen.

As I unpack the items, I see that the water I ordered is missing from the delivery. I rifle through the bags again, hoping I've simply overlooked it, but it's definitely not there. I suppose it’s better that they forgot that than the pregnancy test which is sitting at the bottom of the bag.

I stare at the pregnancy test, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. On the one hand, I think I’m being ridiculous. I’m overthinking it like I did worrying about Elio giving Matteo over to my father.

But…

I can take the test and be sure. It can confirm whether I’m overly anxious.

I take the box to the bathroom expecting it to turn up negative. Then I’ll hide away the evidence of the test so Matteo never has to know of my scare.

I read the directions and then follow them. The next five minutes are the longest of my life. Finally, I look at the little stick sitting on the counter.

Two pink lines.

Positive.

I'm pregnant.

No. It has to be a false positive. I should have ordered two tests.

But even as I tell myself that, I know it’s a lie. I sink down onto the edge of the bathtub, my legs suddenly too weak to support me. I'm carrying Matteo's baby. Our baby.

I want to be happy. Taking away all the reasons this isn’t good news—the conflict with my father, the fact that Matteo still plans to send me off into the world—I am happy. I give myself a moment to believe in fairy tales in which Matteo and I are a family with this person growing inside me.

But this isn’t a fairy tale. There are so many reasons this isn’t good news.

What will Matteo think? We’ve never discussed a future, much less having kids. Will he be happy? Angry?

And while I feel mature and grown up, I know I’m young. I've barely had a chance to live my own life, and now I'm responsible for another. The weight of it feels overwhelming.

I know I need to tell Matteo, but how? Should I blurt it out as soon as he walks through the door? Plan a special moment? Wait until things are more settled with our current situation? How long before my stomach will protrude to reveal my condition?

I'm still reeling from the news of my pregnancy when I hear a knock at the door. At first, I can’t decide who’d be coming by. No one except my grocery deliveries have ever come to the door when Matteo isn’t here.

But then I remember my electrolyte water. It’s probably just delivery of the water they forgot earlier.

I make my way to the door and peer through the peephole. Sure enough, I see a bottle of water positioned right in front of it. Relieved, I reach for the doorknob.

Two men push through the door, one who grabs me and covers my mouth. Panic surges through me as I struggle against my attacker's iron grip. The arm around my waist tightens, lifting me slightly off the ground as my captor drags me backward into the apartment.

Fear courses through my veins. I think of Matteo, of our unborn child, and a new wave of desperation washes over me. I can't let this happen. I have to fight.

A third man appears. He shuts the door and turns to me. “My darling daughter, Ava. I’ve finally found you.”

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