Page 80 of Of Oaths and Secrets

Dr. Bennett raises an eyebrow. “What about your husband? Is he here today?”

I shake my head, feeling a fresh wave of guilt. “No, he’s at work. I haven’t told him yet.”

The doctor’s eyes soften slightly. “I see. It’s important that he’s involved, Mrs. Lucchese. This won’t be easy, and you’ll need his support. Don’t be afraid to lean on him.”

I nod again, biting my lip as my mind races. I know he’s right. Rafaele will be an amazing father—I don’t doubt that for a second. But I’m still terrified of the risks, of the way this will change things between us. The last thing I want is for him to see me as a weakness or, worse, to look at me differently because of the risks involved in carrying our child.

“In the meantime, please take these pamphlets. They give you some information on pregnancies with an autoimmune disease. There are a lot of links as well for you to look at, but once again, I would strongly advise you to involve your husband in this process.”

“Thank you,” I say, standing up to leave. “I’ll let him know.”

The doctor stands up as well. “Perfect, let's go book some future appointments.”

We walk to the front desk, where the receptionist helps me book the upcoming appointments. As I step out of the clinic, the cool air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My thoughts are scattered, bouncing between excitement and fear. I glance down at my stomach, imaginingthe tiny life growing inside me, and then my chest tightens as I remember all the warnings.

I love this baby already. I know I do. And I can’t let anything happen to them.

By the time I get home, I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. I head to the library, my safe space, and start pouring over the links the doctor gave. Hours pass, and I’ve barely made a dent in the mountain of information. I’m trying to make sense of it all, trying to reassure myself before I need to reassure Rafaele that his heir will be okay no matter the shortcomings of my body.

I keep the pretense for the rest of the evening, but I know I’m not fooling Rafaele. After dinner, when we retreat into the library, he doesn’t immediately sit with me like he usually does. Instead, he pours himself a glass of scotch, standing by the fireplace, his gaze heavy on me.

“You look… distracted,” he says, his voice low and searching. “Is everything alright?”

I try to summon a convincing smile, shaking my head just slightly. “Yes, just a lot on my mind.”

His frown deepens, and I can tell he’s not buying it. “Is this about tomorrow? The dinner at my father’s place?”

Relief washes over me that he’s given me an easy excuse. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s never exactly a relaxing evening, is it?”

His eyes soften, and he takes a slow sip of his drink. “We don’t have to go, amore. You know that. We can skip it.”

“No, we should go. It’s important, and I’ll be fine.” I extend my hand toward him, hoping he’ll let it go for now.

He hesitates, his eyes searching mine for a beat longer, but then he sighs, the tension in his shoulders releasing as he crosses the room to join me on the sofa. His arm wraps around me, pulling me close, and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

For a moment, I close my eyes, leaning into the warmth of his body, letting myself enjoy this closeness while I can. The guilt tugs at me, but I push it aside, not ready to let this bubble we’ve created burst just yet.

"Alright," he murmurs. "But promise me, if something’s bothering you, you’ll tell me. You don’t have to carry everything on your own."

I nod against his chest, not trusting myself to speak, and he tightens his hold around me. His heartbeat, steady and reassuring, echoes in my ear, but the secret I’m holding makes my own feel just a little more fragile.

For now, I cling to this moment, knowing it won’t last forever.

The next day, as Rafaele and I prepare to leave for his father’s house, the atmosphere feels heavier than usual. He’s quiet, focused, but I can see the tension in his jaw as he adjusts his cufflinks. He doesn’t like these dinners any more than I do, but we both know they’re necessary.

Before we leave the bedroom, I reach up and adjust his tie, straightening it just a bit, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric. He watches me, his dark eyes softening as I fuss over him.

"You look dashing," I murmur, giving him a small smile. "Absolutely devastating in that suit, Mr. Lucchese."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm as he leans down to kiss the top of my head. "And you, Mrs. Lucchese, are breathtaking. Always."

I blush, rolling my eyes playfully as I smooth my hands down the front of his jacket. “Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can come back—and you can ravish me.”

He grins, his eyes gleaming. “You really know how to speak to me, amore.”

We step out into the crisp evening, and the ride to his father’s estate is spent mostly in silence, with Rafaele’s hand resting protectively on my thigh. I don’t press him to talk; I know he’s already steeling himself for whatever subtle or not-so-subtle attacks his father has planned.

When we arrive, the mansion looms large, a symbol of the family’s wealth and power. I take a deep breath as Rafaele opens my door and helps me out of the car. We walk up the stairs together, his hand at the small of my back, a gesture both protective and possessive.

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