Page 41 of Forbidden Surrogate

I should have picked someone less hardened by our lifestyle.

Our new mission in Pittsburgh involves more surveillance of the Corsini brothers, tracking down the Gravina who might have helped with the bombing, and finding out Maury’s intentions —or if this was a rogue element within their mafia family. If we believe Dario and Vito Corsini, they didn’tpersonallyagree with the bombing, they only wanted to kidnap “my girl” for some information blackmail.

Naturally, this claim protects their lives, but that doesn’t make it true. My father doesn’t want me to kill them, so I won’t, but I don’t trust these men and I trust this mob family’s stability even less.

I just want to return home. I want to watch Delphine’s body grow and change. This would be over a lot faster if dad did something reckless — like ordering Maury Gravina dead without asking any questions. He wants to protect his sister’s feelings, but many in our family have lost loved ones because of the Pittsburgh mob.

Why shouldn’t Maury Gravina die?

We’re all going to end up in the same place when the bell tolls.

He certainly never hesitated to end a life. Why should we?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Delphine

I’m pregnant. One thick spurt of this Italian man’s powerful seed and I’m pregnant with his baby. The past ten weeks have been surreal. I never expected to have this experience because I’m single in my thirties and until meeting Luigi and Angela, I had absolutely no prospects of getting into another relationship.

I don’t have a damn clue how to feel about the changes now that the worst of the first trimester symptoms are starting to fade and most of my days are spent alone with my growing baby. There’s a weird sense of connection I feel to the growing consciousness inside me, like they’re much more alive than I would have ever realized before experiencing pregnancy for myself.

The first few weeks after the positive pregnancy test, the powerful onset of symptoms quickly shattered my delusions of a “false positive”. My nipples were sore, causing me to be much more aware of my nipples than anyone needs to be. Ever. I had some of the worst morning sickness weeks six to eight, and Angela considered breaking her brother’s rule about waiting until his return to take me to an OB/GYN.

I handled the nausea by sleeping all day, which frustrated Angela’s extroverted tendencies, but she never made me feeltoo bad about it. She even apologized for putting me through pregnancy after holding my hair back during a particularly rough session of morning sickness.

My body didn’t wait long for the pounds to pack on, and within three weeks of Luigi’s absence, Angela had to go out and buy new clothes. There’s nothing more embarrassing than your friend with a ballerina physique having to buy you new fat clothestwicein ten weeks. I swear, I must be pregnant with an elephant. Judging by Luigi’s size… I guess his baby might be enormous. When Luigi sees me again, I hope he doesn’t care that I’m much bigger.

Because it’s his fault.

The physical changes are painful, but the emotional changes are even more confusing to deal with. The attachment I form to ‘the baby’ overpowers any attachment I’ve ever felt before. I think about our future all the time and then I wonder… will we have a future, or will Luigi separate us? He has more money than I ever will and mob connections. If he wants to keep our baby for himself, what the hell would stop this monster?

My fixation and growing affection for the life inside me extends weirdly to Luigi. I don’t want him to die in Pittsburgh. Even if he was unbelievably cold when he left me… the good memories I have with him are stronger than his moments of impenetrable coldness. He didn’t fake those minutes of connection with me and since I have all this time alone growing his child, I can’t let go of those romantic moments. They grow stronger in Luigi’s absence and I find myself caring deeply about his return.

Angela announces Luigi’s exact arrival time to me at breakfast on the tenth Monday after he left Buffalo. His emails stoppedabout eight days ago, and I tried not to assume the worst. He’s still alive and he’ll be here around 4:30 p.m.

“My brother Renzo will pick me up half an hour earlier,” Angela says. “He’s finally back from Italy, and Luigi wants you here alone.”

We haven’t had much time apart in the past ten weeks. I struggled with my emotions about Angela’s drugging incident but ultimately, she’s gone above and beyond to look after me to Luigi’s standards. Italian cooking will heal any fucked up relationship, and Angela doesn’t even expect me to wash up. I’ll miss her, even if I’m excited to see Luigi.

“Will you be at the penthouse?” I ask Angela, hoping that her family doesn’t send her halfway across the country.

“Yes. And if this war with the Pittsburgh Italians ends, I’ll get to stay. Otherwise, I don’t think my father will let me get far.”

I still don’t know why her father won’t trust her to leave, even if I have some clues about Angela’s personality. I hope this Pittsburgh mob situation doesn’t take her too far away from me. She might be crazy, but she’s been a real friend throughout this pregnancy. I’ve spoken to my family over the phone, but their reactions have all been questionable at best.

My parents were skeptical that I was pregnant at all and they warned me not to let a broke man come after me for my money. It wasn’t exactly supportive. They act like I’m not in my thirties. My brother told me that he hoped I didn’t “let a white man knock me up”, ending our conversation abruptly. My sister sent a few emojis in response and then set her phone on Do Not Disturb. (She’s a Pisces.)

Angela has been there for me every single day — and she’s not even my blood.

Her brother arrives in a tinted silver Mercedes to pick her up and I have thirty minutes of alone time before Luigi arrives. But I’m pregnant, so I don’t stay awake long. I fall asleep on the couch beneath soft fleece blankets and wake up when Luigi unlocks the lake house front door.

Luigi instinctively stalks across the living room to my position on the couch before I wake myself up properly. I’m only able to stand up in the time it takes him to stand in front of me, all six-foot-five inches of his hulking, muscular frame. Holy shit, he’s so much bigger than I remember. Luigi says nothing as he stands there, but he considers me with a slow, penetrating gaze. I forgot what it felt like to have him staring at me like this.

My body hasn’t forgotten. Luigi’s strong presence and the faint scent of his cologne on his skin sends a jolt of awareness straight between my legs. I have done everything in my power to push down any sexual thoughts throughout my pregnancy, but with Luigi right in front of me, the hormonal rush overpowers my senses.

I just can’t jump him because… it’s him. And Luigi still appears cold as he stares at me. He’s been gone for ten weeks. I’m guessing he activated a dating app and had wild, meaningless sex with whatever woman he wanted to in Pittsburgh. I hold no illusions that he would be loyal to me.

He finally speaks. “You’re pregnant.”

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