Page 61 of Beauty and the Daddy
The pit in my stomach deepens.
"Ms. Belle?"
Yup. That's me. Girl in trouble.
The doctor's kind, older, with eyes that say there's no judgement here.
"Hi, Belle. How can I help you?"
"I need a pregnancy test. Is that possible?"
"We can do a blood test now," she says. "It's the most accurate."
I nod, rolling up my sleeve. "Let's do it."
The needle slides into my vein, and I watch my blood fill the vial, wondering if there's already something different about it. If it's already nurturing a tiny Luca or a mini-me.
God damn it, I'm losing my mind, thinking blood might be cute like that.
The wait drags like torture.
When she calls my name again, I follow on legs that feel borrowed from someone else. The doctor's office is small, sterile, decorated with pamphlets about prenatal vitamins and baby development.
She settles behind her desk with a smile that tells me everything.
"Congratulations, Miss Donovan. You're pregnant. Approximately four weeks along."
The word hits me like a physical blow. Pregnant. There's a baby, Luca's baby, growing inside me right now.
I nod like it's fine, like she just told me the weather.
The room tilts sideways as I think of that first night with Luca. Of course it was. The universe has a sick sense of humor.
"Are you sure?" My voice sounds distant, like it's coming from someone else.
She hands me a paper. "Yes. Very sure. You should see an obstetrician soon."
I take the paper, fold it small, and tuck it into my purse.
"Thank you," I manage to say, though thank you for what, I'm not sure.
For confirming that my life has just gotten exponentially more complicated?
Outside, the Roman sun feels unbearably hot. I lean against a building, trying to breathe.
Pregnant. With Luca Moretti's baby, the very same man who's dragged me to Italy to meet a council of crime lords.
What the hell am I going to do?
I don't know. The answer to this is tougher than any math problem I've solved before.
When I can no longer just stand around doing nothing, I retrace my steps, and find the car again.
"All done. Can we head back?"
He nods and opens the door.
Back in the hotel room, I hide the test results in my makeup bag, burying them under compacts and lip gloss like evidence of a crime.
