Page 79 of The Underboss's Secret Twins
Not until I turn to her and force the words out, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I think I might be pregnant."
For a second, she just stares at me.
Then, her hands fly to her mouth. "Oh my God."
I swallow hard, my throat dry. "I don’t know for sure. But I’m late. And now…this." I gesture vaguely at myself, at the nausea that’s been coming in waves for days, at the way my body feels foreign to me in a way I can’t explain.
Valentina exhales sharply, then pulls me into a tight hug.
I don’t even realize I’m shaking until she holds me still.
Her voice is softer when she speaks again. "Does Marco know?"
I pull back immediately, shaking my head. "No. And he can’t. Not until I know for sure."
Valentina’s expression turns cautious. "Sofia?—"
"I mean it," I say, gripping her hands. "Not a word. Promise me."
She studies me, her lips pressing together. Then, finally, she nods. "Okay."
Relief washes through me.
And then—before I can let myself dwell on what this might mean, before I can spiral again—Valentina squeezes my hand and pulls out her phone.
"Let’s find out," she says simply.
I stare at her, my mind unable to process even the simplest of words. She gives me a small, epmathetic smile. "I’ll book an appointment. We’ll go tomorrow. Just us."
I nod, exhaling shakily. "On the pretext of shopping."
She smirks. "Obviously."
And just like that, the first step is taken. I breathe a little easier, knowing the next morning won’t be all that difficult.
Or so I think, until I meet Marco the next morning and he hears what I mean to do.
"Why can't my men bring you what you need?" For a moment, the question annoys me to the point that I feel like Captain Haddock being detained from buying a pack of smokes for himself. Next thing I know, I’ll be blistering barnacles and knocking out guards for the crime of wanting to go out.
Marco’s grip tightens around my wrist, his thumb pressing against the delicate skin there like he’s trying to anchor me in place. His voice is sharp, edged with restlessness.
I tilt my head, giving him a small, knowing smile. "Ilikeshopping, Marco. And I like living my life. Last I knew, neither of these things are considered crimes."
His jaw tics as he stares at me, and I can see he’s fighting back the urge to shoo me back to my rooms. He’s not about to win this.
It’s been like this since forever. Since the warehouse. Since Mancini ran, and Marco sent his men after him with orders that promised only one outcome. I still don’t know if they caught him. I haven’t asked. And Marco hasn’t told me.
Instead, he’s been watching me like I’m something fragile—like one wrong move and I’ll shatter at his feet.
But I won’t.
So, I keep my voice light, casual, like I don’t notice the way his body coils, bracing for a fight. "It’s just shopping, Marco. A normal day. You can spare me that, can’t you?"
His fingers flex. "The Lombardis still have a hit out on you, Sofia."
"And yet, I’m still breathing."
