Page 21 of Possessive Captor

I tried to laugh it off, but it was something I was going to have to deal with for weeks. People would question my sudden return to Manhattan. They’d ask why I left my open house without even locking the door behind me. And why did I leave my stuff on the counter? There would be a hundred questions I’d have to answer and all I could do was shrink into myself and hope that Raniero had a plan.

The doctor ordered a pregnancy test to confirm that I was, indeed, pregnant, and then she put me on prenatal vitamins. Raniero asked about various dietary supplements. Could I take iron pills during my pregnancy? What about vitamin C? Probiotics? Potassium? He had a list in his head and raffled off the items one after the other.

He also asked about an exercise regimen. “It isn’t that I don’t want her to get big. I understand that she’s growing a child in there. But I’m an avid runner and I know that some exercise during pregnancy can help prevent gestational diabetes.”

The doctor nodded her head in agreement. “As long as the mother doesn’t currently have diabetes,” she added, “then it can help reduce the risk. I’d say if mom is feeling up to it,” she looked at me with a smile, “she can continue any exercises she’s currently doing and work up to any others she wants to do as long as there isn’t any pain.”

With all of our questions answered, we were halfway out of the door when the doctor stopped us. “Also, and I hate saying this part, I always suggest that my patients keep the exciting news to themselves until twelve or thirteen weeks. That’s the end of the first trimester and when your risk for miscarriage drops dramatically. I’m not saying you can’t tell your family and friends,” she said gently, “I’m just informing you of the risks. It’s a lot harder to tell people that you miscarried than it is to tell them that you’re pregnant.”

I grabbed my belly in fear and felt Raniero’s hand reach out to hold my elbow. “Thank you for letting us know, doctor. We’ll keep that in mind.”

I could barely get to the car on my own. Raniero had to help me with an arm around my waist while he supported most of my weight. “What if I miscarry?” I hadn’t even realized that I cared that much. “What if I do something that hurts the baby?” I thought I was just going along with Raniero’s plan, but now all I could think about was sitting still and willing this child in my womb to grow strong and healthy.

Raniero crouched outside of my door and brought my hand to his lips. He placed a flurry of kisses on my palm before bringing it up to rest on his cheek. “You’re going to be fine, Calliope. I’m going to take care of you. We’ll go pick up the prenatals the doctor ordered and then we’ll figure out if there’s anything we can do to keep you safe. The best foods to eat, the best exercises to do, the best everything. We’ll figure it out, Calli, together. You, me, and baby against the world.”

His words calmed my fears. In the weeks that came after, he followed through with all his promises.

He plied me with questions about the wedding night and day, but when he felt like my energy was waning, he’d take on the decisions for himself. I dreamt about my wedding and I wanted a fairytale affair like everybody else, but some days it was just too much.

When Raniero wanted me to add my friends to the guest list, I didn’t even know what to say. Sure, I had friends sprinkled throughout the city, but many of them had stopped being so kind after I spent a few weeks on their couches. Others, well, I wasn’t sure how close those friendships were considering we hadn’t spoken since high school.

But once again, Raniero took everything upon himself. The only real decision I had to make was what I wanted to wear.

“You can wear a paper bag if you’d like,” Raniero offered over breakfast one morning. He’d told Grace that I was pregnant and she was delighted. She started rattling off different foods I couldn’t eat and what she would substitute them with. I think she was more excited than Raniero and I put together.

Grace was the one that said I couldn’t wearwhateverI wanted. She was in the room when Raniero said I could wear a paper bag and she almost dropped the tray of pancakes. “No, honey,” she looked at me, “this is your big day. No paper bags. You’re going to be the belle of the ball. If anything, you need a gown like Cinderella’s.”

She was the only person that I allowed to push me around. With Raniero’s approval, she took me to a little boutique in a small town forty miles away. “My friend makes beautiful wedding gowns. You tell her what you want and she’ll make it happen.” We spent the afternoon drunk on laughter and friendship. For the first time in years, I had a girls’ day and I loved it.

Everything changed overnight, it felt like. Raniero didn’t lock my bedroom door anymore and he trusted me to stroll the grounds without an escort. Sampson was always around, but he didn’t look at me like a flight risk anymore. He regarded me as Raniero’s equal, always endeavoring to do the littlest thing if it made my life easier.

He was the one that drove me to various daycares in the area. The first day he pulled up in front of one, he said that he was working on Raniero’s wishes. “He said that you want to work with children. My mother has run this place since I was a kid.” Sampson sheepishly blushed. “We thought it’d be a great place for you to get some hands-on experience.”

My life sort of settled into a routine. Mornings with Grace and Raniero where we talked about how I was feeling and what I was craving. Raniero would have flown to Italy and gotten me a bowl of the freshest pasta if that’s what I asked for. Grace was willing to whip up anything, including a remedy for my morning sickness. She gave me a steaming cup of tea every morning that she said would cure my nausea for the day. Maybe it did or maybe it was a placebo. Regardless, she saved me from vomiting every hour for the next few weeks.

In the afternoons, I spent time at one daycare or another. I learned to change diapers, make formula, properly thaw and heat breastmilk, and more. I took care of children as young as six weeks old and as old as five. I experienced a lifetime of memories in those four weeks.

My evenings were spent with Raniero. Sometimes he made me dinner, but more often than not, an evening cook came by to finish whatever Grace had prepared in the morning. We ate in the kitchen nook, the formal dining room, and sometimes curled up together on the couch. Raniero allowed me to go wherever I wanted. “You’re carrying my child,” he’d whisper in my ear, “you can have the world.”

Truly, he was a changed man. He still took me to bed religiously, praising the fullness of my breasts and the swell of my stomach. I couldn’t see any change, but he swore every day that he noticed I was growing larger with his child. We’d make love, but sometimes we’d fuck. The difference was the words he whispered in my ear when he came inside of me. But not once did I shy away from him. I tried to say it was the hormones that made me want him, but Raniero knew better. I was falling for him with each passing day.

Our love story didn’t start out conventionally, but it was going to have a happily ever after one day.

17

RANIERO

I’m fuckingnervous.What kind of peasant bullshit is this?

“Take a shot,” Mateo raises a shot glass in the air as if he can hear my thoughts. “I guarantee your face won’t be sheet white when you walk down the aisle.”

I turn around to pin him with a glare. “I should have asked Luca to be my best man.”

From the couch, Luca nods his head in agreement and says, “Damn right, you should have. I’d have thrown a better bachelor party. For starters, we’d have been in Monaco and there would have been strippers.”

My two younger brothers exchange glances. I haven’t seen Stefano or Cesare in a couple of months. They say it’s because I was too caught up in finding a wife and knocking her up, but I think they were too busy to drop by or schedule a lunch. “Could have foundmea wife in Monaco,” Cesare waggles his eyebrows.

I snort in response and head toward the mini-bar. “Don’t you have a girl?”

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