“Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, princess,” I told her, linking my fingers.
She nodded hesitantly. “You don’t look happy.”
“I’m happy you’re pregnant, Aria, trust me,” I said firmly. I lifted our joined hands and kissed her palm. “How could I not be happy with a miniature version of you?”
Her expression relaxed. “It could be a boy, then it would be a miniature version of you.”
My stomach contracted. I knew that Made Men, especially a Chief, would have to produce an heir, but I did not want a male child. With a male child the chances of me acting like my father to make the boy strong were too great. I did not want to become like him. Again Aria caught my hesitation and frowned at me. Fuck. She knew me too well.
“Do you want a girl?” she asked surprised.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. There was no point in pretending I didn’t care about sex.
She scrutinized my face as if the answers to her questions were hidden there. “Are you afraid you won’t be able to love a son as a daughter?”
“I will love our son regardless of gender because he is your own flesh and blood, Aria. But with a boy, I should think about his future.” I didn’t say anything else; I didn’t want to elaborate.
There was no point in discussing this when we didn’t even know if it was a boy.
“We should go out now,” I said, dragging her with me. My grip on her tightened as she staggered again and I pulled her against me as I led her out of our bedroom and downstairs. The second floor was deserted. Matteo had probably gone to find Gianna.
“Does Gianna know about your pregnancy?” I asked as I led Aria toward my new black Mercedes G-Class parked in the driveway. I had bought it to distract myself. Obviously it hadn’t worked.
“She and Lily…” She interrupted, biting her lip.
“And Romero,” I concluded.
Concern filled her face. “I needed to involve him so he could protect me when I went to the gynecologist. I knew you would be sorry if I went there without protection, and I couldn’t ask Sandro. He would have told you right away.”
I nodded as I held the door open for her. I was going to have to talk to Romero anyway. He slipped inside, but not without another worried look. “Don’t be angry with him. He helped me a lot . I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
I stifled my anger. It was not aimed at Aria, not even at Romero. She should not have been forced to rely on Romero in the first place. I closed the door, swung around the hood, and got behind the wheel.
Aria fell asleep on the drive back to New York and I let her. She looked exhausted. In her dress-shirt, her belly was not noticeable, yet my eyes kept returning to the spot.
After parking the car in a loading zone, I woke Aria.
She sat up, startled. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings. “Are we in Manhattan already?”
“You slept on the trip,” I told her.
“I’m sorry.” She looked out the window. “Are you sure we won’t get picked up?”
“Yes,” I said. I got out, meeting the gaze of the owner of the restaurant whose loading dock I was blocking. He recognized me.
He paid us for protection.
I helped Aria out of the car and took her hand. She stiffened her back, holding her head up. This was the audience. Aria knew what was expected of both of us. We could always be followed by paparazzi. Usually my contacts would get in touch before the photos were published, but I preferred not to have compromising photos in the first place. The Dante/Aria fiasco had been bad enough, and it still made my blood boil.
“I hope Dr. Brightley has time for us,” Aria said as I followed her toward a building with several doctors for all kinds of medical problems. That way at least people would not suspect that Aria was pregnant. I did not want the news to spread so soon, and if possible never. We were at war and children were too vulnerable. It was bad enough that Dante knew about the pregnancy, but I had to keep it a secret from our other enemies, and that meant we would have to make sure there was never a press photo of Aria pregnant or with our baby. I was going to move heaven and earth to ensure their safety.
When we entered the studio reception, the receptionist’s eyes snapped toward us, widening when she saw me enter. She obviously knew me. I cast a glance toward the closed door of the waiting room to our right.
I didn’t feel like other patients seeing us there and spreading rumors. We headed toward the reception desk.
“Mrs. Vitiello, we weren’t expecting you today,” the receptionist intervened.
“I guess it won’t be a problem,” I said with a tight-lipped smile that always had the same effect on people.
Aria’s cheeks turned red.
The receptionist blinked at me, then quickly looked away, paling. “Uhh, sure. I just have to check with Dr. Brightley first. We have quite a few patients in the waiting room. Maybe you can sit down until I call you.”
“No,” I said. “Surely you understand that I don’t want to draw attention to my wife and I. I trust you will honor our desire for secrecy.” The smile widened but my eyes squinted.
He nodded and greeted another woman wearing a bluish nurse’s uniform. “Can you take Mr. and Mrs. Vitiello to a treatment room?”
After giving me a glance, the nurse hurried away and opened a door for us. We went inside and she closed the door behind us, giving us some privacy. Aria turned to me with an exasperated expression. “Luca, you had to be like this…”
She nodded to me as if that said it all.
“So what?” I echoed her.
“So dominant,” she concluded before sinking into one of the two chairs in front of a white desk. The other piece of furniture in the room was the chair no man would ever want to see up close with its strange metal leg braces and a crib with an ultrasound machine next to it.
I raised an eyebrow.
Aria shook her head. “Never mind.”
I moved to her side but did not sit down. My surroundings made me prefer to stand.
“Luca,” she began. “Dr. Brightley is very direct. I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and act like a Chief.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond because the door opened and a tall figure entered, a woman with short brown hair and glasses. Dr. Brightley, her nametag said. I cast a glance at Aria and she smiled innocently. The doctor approached me without hesitation or initial shock. Her receptionists must have warned her. I accepted her outstretched hand, surprised by her firm grip. Had she been a man, I would have responded with my version of a firm grip. “I am Dr. Brightley and you must be the elusive father, Mr. Vitiello.”
Her words were sharp, her smile of disapproval.
I turned a tugged smile on her. “You must be the doctor unable to help my wife,” I said in a deadly voice.
Aria rose from her chair and walked over to us to shake Dr. Brightley’s hand. “What she means is that I still can’t keep food down.”
Dr. Brightley frowned, her eyes scanning Aria from head to toe. “Have you lost weight since we last met ?”
Aria nodded, “Not much.”
“You are underweight, Ms. Vitiello,” she said with a sigh before settling her gaze on me. “Unfortunately, my options are limited. I could give your wife an infusion to improve her nutrient intake, but other than that, there’s not much I can do.”
He turned back to Aria. “Her illness could be related to emotional stress, have you thought about that?”
Aria whitened, and I stiffened. Had Aria talked to the doctor about our personal problems? Her eyes met mine and she shook her head slightly to tell me she had not. The doctor must have based his assumption on the fact that I had missed previous appointments. Regret left a bitter taste in my mouth. I met the doctor’s gaze, my face a mask of calm. It was none of his business what was going on behind closed doors.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Aria said softly but firmly.
She took my hand and I squeezed it lightly in return. “We wanted to find out the sex of our baby today, if possible?”
Dr. Brightley nodded. “Please unbutton your dress and lie down on the bench. I cannot promise you anything because it is still early.”
When the doctor began the ultrasound, I felt fucking nervous. I was holding Aria’s hand but my eyes were focused on the ultrasound screen. At first I didn’t see much, just unidentifiable shapes in gray and black that were constantly changing, but then suddenly a face became distinguishable. A perfect face. Nose, ears, lips. Then the doctor showed us the hands, ten small fingers and feet. I could not believe that a fully formed human being, our baby, was inside Aria. The doctor enlarged the area between the baby’s legs and smiled. “I can’t be completely sure until later in the pregnancy, but it looks like a baby girl.”
I almost gave up in relief. A baby girl. A little version of Aria.
Not a boy who would harbor my darkness, a darkness I would have to encourage to help him survive in the Family.
Aria squeezed my hand and I turned to her. She smiled.
I gave her a small nod, feeling the doctor’s eyes on me.
“It would be good if your wife relaxed as much as possible. The baby is still growing, but if she continues to lose weight, we may have to hospitalize her for safety.”
I gave an abrupt nod of assent. “She will gain weight, don’t worry.”
After the appointment we headed to our penthouse.
Aria was too tired from the hour-long drive back to the Hamptons, and I had a feeling she wanted to go back to our apartment. She had spent most of her time in the Hamptons in recent weeks.
I could tell how happy she was to be back as she stepped out onto the roof and let her gaze glide over the skyline. I went behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, still stunned by her baby bump. “How about we order some sushi and relax on the couch?”
She threw me a look. “Sushi? Aren’t you forgetting something?” He laid his hand on mine.
I didn’t understand.
He laughed. “Men are so ignorant. I’m not allowed to eat raw fish or raw meat, and it’s better not to order anything raw in case the restaurant doesn’t wash its products enough.”
“If I told them to wash them, they would, trust me,” I said . If something happened to Aria or our daughter because someone did wrong, I would show them that monsters walked the Earth.
“I know.” He turned in my embrace, touching my cheek. “My big bad gangster.”
I choked back a laugh. Aria was the only one joking about it. I leaned down, making my voice the deathly whisper I used to use when people displeased me. “I’m bad, and worse, I’m Chief.”
Aria shivered, but surely not out of fear. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her face against my chest. “God, I missed that.”
I stroked her silky hair, then followed her spine to the soft bulge of her ass. She shuddered again and moved even closer.
“You have to eat,” I said, even though my cock had other plans. She nodded, but did not move. “How about pasta?
It can’t be bad for the baby, can it?”
“Gnocchi alla Genovese for me,” he said without hesitation. “And maybe one of those delicious almond cakes. Are you ordering from Da Daniele’s?”
I smiled. “Sure.”