Page 134 of Immoral

"I forgot about my birth control pill since we got married," I blurt out.

"How long were you on it?" he asks.

I cringe. "My entire life..."

His face gets brighter. "Well, it's sometimes hard for women to conceive when they've taken birth control for so long. We'll want to get you scheduled for an ultrasound as soon as possible. There's a mobile unit that Angelo likes to use, so you don't have to go into the office."

"Are you saying I'm pregnant?" I gape at him.

His grin widens. "According to the pee stick, yes."

Panic hits me. If Gianni finds out I'm pregnant, there's no way he'll let me out of the house to finish Fashion Week. I reach for Silvio's bicep. "Don't tell Gianni or anyone else. N-not yet. Please!"

He keeps his gaze locked on me. "I told you my policy. This will stay between us, but you have to promise me you won't let this go on too long. I need you to get that ultrasound."

Relief fills me. "I won't. I just need a week."

Amusement pops into his expression. "Fashion Week?"

I grimace. "Is it that obvious?"

He grunts. "Maybe a bit predictable, but I know the Marino men. A week won't hurt. I'll send over some prenatal vitamins so you can at least start those."

"All right. Thank you."

He pats me on the shoulder then rises. "I'll set up the different tests. The MRI and X-rays I'd prefer you get now."

I groan. "Gianni will probably have a fit about that, too. Can't we wait?"

"I'm afraid not. Let's get the tests done and see what the results are. I don't think anything serious is going on, but it's not prudent to wait," he asserts.

I sigh. "Fine. But can you try to make Gianni think it's not a big deal?"

"Sure. And congratulations! Gianni and Angelo are going to be ecstatic," he claims.

"Can you tell the others I'll be down in a few minutes? I just need a moment by myself."

He pats me on the shoulder. "Consider it done. If you need anything, let me know."

"Thanks, Silvio."

He leaves.

I get up and stand in front of the mirror, looking at my stomach.

Pregnant.

I'm forty-one.

How is this possible?

Several minutes pass. I take a deep breath. I just need to get past this week.

How's Gianni going to react?

Was he serious when he talked about having kids?

I stare at my stomach a few more minutes and rub it. I whisper, "Hey, baby. I'm going to be your mommy."

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