My Husband Made Me Carry His Mistress’s Child

Lorenzo hesitated for a few seconds before answering, his voice softening in a way it never did for anyone else. "I'm sorry, Bianca. Tonight's the Christmas sit-down. I gave my father my word I'd bring Adriana to the table with the family."

"Fine, then. Buon Natale to all of you."

The deep loneliness in Bianca's voice put a flicker of tenderness into Lorenzo's eyes.

He soothed her gently. "Bianca, I promise you, next year I'll be at your side on your birthday."

"And our daughter will be right there beside you too, by then."

Watching the happiness spread across Lorenzo's face, my eyes stung, and my brow twitched before I could stop it.

Then, all at once, a cry came through the earpiece, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

Lorenzo's face went taut with urgency. "Bianca, what happened?"

"I slipped on the ice. I'm hurt."

"Is it bad?"

"No... not that bad."

"Tell me where you are. I'm coming right now."

Bianca made a show of refusing. "There's no need, Lorenzo. I can have one of my father's men run me to the clinic."

"I won't let a little thing like me ruin your night with the family."

Lorenzo's brows knit together, and his tone left no room for argument. "Tell me where you are."

Once he had the answer he wanted, he hung up, pulled the car to the shoulder of the road, and woke me.

"Adriana, my underboss just called. There's an urgent matter with the family."

"I'm sorry, I have to get back."

"Can you find a way home yourself?"

"Or I'll send the driver back for you once he's dropped me."

I lifted my head and looked out the window. Everything was pitch black, and heavy snow was falling in thick, feathery flakes.

We were far from the Territory, out past where the Family's reach thinned into empty country roads, and it was Christmas night. Forget a car for hire. There wasn't a single light moving on the road.

I didn't want to agree, but I was pushed out all the same.

Lorenzo hit the gas, and the car shot far into the distance.

Hurried and final.

He was so worried about Bianca that he couldn't even be bothered to say one more word to me.

I took out my phone and found the signal was faint. Out here, past the last of the Family's protection, the thing was useless.

With no other choice, I pulled my coat tighter around me and set off into the wind and snow, stumbling forward one uneven step at a time.

More than two hours later, shivering with cold, I finally reached the iron gates of the Valente estate.

Through the bars I could see the whole place lit up bright, laughter drifting out now and then, the low sound of a family that still ate together while mine had been buried one man at a time.

A servant spotted me and hurried to open the gate.

"Signora Bianchi, why are you arriving so late?"

I didn't explain. I only asked, "Where's Lorenzo? Is he already here?"

"The young Don arrived long ago, with the Falcone girl."

The servant chose his words carefully.

He knew the old story from years back. How Marco Greco had broken the alliance pact to take Bianca instead. How the shock of it had helped drive my father into an early grave. The scandal that had set every Family in the harbor Territory whispering at the time.

He was afraid of touching a nerve.

A bitter look crossed my face.

Even a servant knew this was a subject to tiptoe around, yet Lorenzo didn't care in the slightest how it sat with me.

I came into the front room. Bianca sat on the sofa, pressed close against Lorenzo, the two of them talking and laughing.

The moment they saw me, they pulled apart at once.

"Adriana, you're finally here."

"I was worried sick."

"Why was your phone dead every time the driver called for you?"

I said calmly, "The battery died."

In cold more than ten degrees below freezing, no phone kept its charge for long out on an open road.

"I'm sorry, Adriana. This is all my fault."

Seeing me covered in wind and snow, Lorenzo's face filled with guilt as he took my hand and drew me down onto the sofa.

Salvatore and Rosa Bianchi came over too, fussing over me with warm concern, scolding their son. How could he leave his wife alone out on the road like that on Christmas night?