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"I'm in love with Marco," I confess.

He pats my hand. “I know. I might be old and senile, but I know love when I see it.”

It’s odd how I feel like my father is missing so much but in fact, he sees more than any of us. “I’m pregnant with his child."

The silence that follows feels eternal.

I watch as confusion, realization, and then anger I wasn’t expecting cross my father's face in rapid succession. "He got you pregnant and then pushed you away? Didn’t do right by you?”

Technically, I walked away, but it was clear he wasn’t going to come around. "He doesn't want a family. He made that clear."

"That fucking fool." Dad stands abruptly, pacing the room. "After everything I've done for him. I treated him like a son when he took over the Calabresi family. I guided him, protected him when La Corona questioned his honor… his capability."

"Dad, please?—"

"And this is how he repays me? By dishonoring my daughter and refusing to take responsibility?" His voice rises with each word. "If he survives this, I'll make sure he does right by you, Gabriella. I promise you."

"No." I stand to face him. "I don't want him forced into anything. That's why I didn't tell you. I was planning to go to Italy after Christmas."

Dad's expression darkens further. "You would hide my grandchild from me?"

"No. Eventually, these things come out. I was going to hide the child’s father from everyone… including him.”

My father isn’t buying it. "In our world, a man takes responsibility for his actions."

"Even if it makes everyone miserable? Even if he resents the child? Resents me?" I take my father’s hands. “I don’t want that for me or my child.”

His anger seems to deflate slightly. "Gabriella, I’ll make him see that he loves you. He stepped in front of a bullet for you tonight. A man doesn't do that for someone he doesn't care about."

“He can love me and still be too afraid to show it. I don't want Marco to fulfill some obligation. I don't want a man who's with me because La Corona or you demanded it."

My father's eyes narrow, but I continue before he can interrupt.

"What I want is a life away from all this chaos. If that means going to Italy until the baby comes, then that's what I'll do. No one needs to know Marco is the father. Not if he doesn't want that responsibility."

"Gabriella—"

"No, Dad. I've spent my whole life watching what duty and obligation do to people in our world. I've seen marriages built on business arrangements, children used as pawns." I place my hand protectively over my stomach. "I won't do that to my child."

This baby fills me with a fierce protectiveness.

"I love Marco, but I won't trap him in a life he's made clear he doesn't want. And I won't subject my child to a father who resents their existence."

Dad sinks back onto the edge of the bed. "I’ve always admired your strength and spirit. I’d hoped by allowing it, you’d have a happier life than many women in our world. Perhaps that was wrong.”

“No.” I sit next to him. “I’d be miserable if I didn’t have the choices and opportunities you let me have. And this is the next thing I need to do for my happiness. For my baby’s happiness.”

My father nods. “I won’t have all my marbles for much longer. I’d like to know my grandchild.” His words break my heart.

“You will. I promise.” I lean my head on his shoulder.

“I still want to make Marco pay.”

“I know.” I sit quietly with my father knowing that whether Marco lives or dies, he’ll no longer be a part of my life.

I hope he lives, of course.

But as I prepare to move on, to cut him from my and the baby’s lives, it will be like a death.