Page 69 of Dangerous Deception

No, it can’t have been.

But I didn’t have my period in Italy. We arrived at the beginning of June and now we’re in the middle of July.

I’m just late. I must be. The stress of everything.

I lock eyes with myself in the mirror.

I’m late.

Twenty minutes later, I sit in a toilet cubicle with my hand thrust between my thighs peeing on a stick Caterina bought from the pharmacy on the ground floor. She’s sworn to secrecy and returned to the children almost immediately, but I saw the question in her eyes.

The same question has been in my mind since I calculated my missed and late period.

Am I pregnant?

Raffaele and I weren’t swift with the protection in Italy. It just didn’t feel important and I was working through so much that when the mood struck, I just never thought about pausing to find a condom.

Finishing up, I set the stick on the counter and start a timer.

I can’t be pregnant.

Can I?

Fuck. What if I am? Is that something I even want? Is it something Raffaele wants?

We’ve never spoken about things like that. Life has been far too hectic to think about any kind of lengthy future. It was only a few weeks ago that I realized I didn’t hate him, that I actually really like him.

He’s busy with work. I want to sink my time into this hospital and make something of myself.

A baby will change everything.

The timer makes me jump when it beeps loudly, and I place one hand against my breastbone as I approach the counter and peer at the stick.

Two pink lines stare back at me.

Pregnant.

Oh, no.

My first instinct is to call Marie as a surge of unexpected excitement rushes through me. Am I happy about this? Do I actually want this?

Reality crashes over me in a cold wave when I remember I can’t call Marie. Not ever.

Gripping the counter, tears warm the corners of my sore eyes. I’m pregnant.

With Raffaele’s baby.

Shit.

Do I tell Caterina? No, she works for Raffaele. For all I know, she’d tell Raffaele before I was ready. I have no friends to call, but I need to talk to someone about this. Pressure swells inside me like I’m about to pop until I can’t breathe and my head swims.

I only have one option.

“Adelina?” My father sounds breathless as he answers the phone. “What is it? Is everything alright? Are you safe?”

I barely hear his question as I spill the beans immediately. “Papà, I’m pregnant.”

“What?” He’s so shocked that it’s impossible to tell whether he’s happy or not.

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