Never a Second Choice

After five years of a political marriage to Lorenzo, the Underboss of the Gallo family—a union meant to preserve the fragile peace of Chicago's underworld—there was finally a glimmer of hope.

I was pregnant.

I clutched the small ultrasound photo, ready to try and truly love him for the sake of our child.

But the conversation I overheard through the crack in the study door shattered my world.

"When are you going to tell Aoife?" The voice of my mother-in-law, Isabella, was cold and sharp. "Bianca's belly is getting too big to hide. The Gallo family cannot be without a male heir."

Lorenzo's voice was heavy with exhaustion. "Just give me a little more time, Mamma. I'll handle it. We can't afford to offend the O'Connell family yet."

I froze at the door, the photo in my pocket searing my skin like a branding iron.

You broke your vows, Lorenzo Gallo.

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1

The moment I discovered Lorenzo Gallo's betrayal, my first instinct was to tear him apart with my bare hands. But I held back. I was an O'Connell Principessa, and I would maintain my composure. Instead, I used my connections to dig up every detail on the other woman.

Bianca Romano. A dancer at one of the Gallo family's nightclubs. She looked innocent and harmless, right up until six months ago, when Lorenzo went to Lake Geneva to deal with a seized shipment and ended up in her bed.

My private investigator said it was a setup. The Gallos' rivals wanted to get some dirt on him, to ruin his reputation. But Bianca? She somehow "rescued" him from the mess. A damsel in distress saving the hero—a classic, pathetic trope.

Lorenzo tried to pay her off. She refused. Of course, she did. She was holding a much more valuable bargaining chip. She was pregnant. With a boy.

My mother-in-law, Isabella, who prized the family bloodline above all else, would never let a Gallo heir go unrecognized. So, of course, she stepped in to "protect" Bianca.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Lorenzo's endless "emergency meetings," his excuses to rush back to headquarters… He had been running off to see Bianca. How many times had he left in the middle of dinner, claiming family business needed him? He even canceled our fifth wedding anniversary because of a supposed "important deal." It turned out he was just spending time at his other home.

So I waited. I sat in the living room, as still as a marble statue.

Lorenzo walked in, right on cue.

"Cara mia, I brought you your favorite cannoli."

He dangled a box from the city's finest pastry shop.

I glanced at the box, then met his gaze. "Lorenzo, we need to talk."

"What's wrong?"

He sat beside me and draped his arm over my shoulder out of habit, trying to pull me into his embrace.

The faint, cloying scent of her cheap perfume clung to him. I smiled. "Let's end this marriage."

Lorenzo immediately spun me to face him, his grip so tight it bruised. "Who's been putting these crazy ideas in your head?"

"No one." My voice was steady, without a tremor. "It's just… we've been married for five years and still have no children. I don't want the Gallo family—or you—to be left without an heir. I know what that means for an Italian family."

"I will never agree, Aoife. I love you. You're all I want."

His words were a punch to the gut. I could almost feel the fragile life inside me tremble, as if protesting its father's lies. "Lorenzo, how can you say that when your heart is already divided?"

"Isabella has always wanted a grandchild," I coaxed gently. "I've held you back for too long."

"I'll handle my mother." His voice was firm, filled with unquestionable control. "You just need to take care of yourself. It doesn't matter if we have a child or not. If it comes to that, we can find a surrogate."

He paused, a flicker of calculation in his eyes. "There are plenty of girls who would do anything for money. They'd be happy to carry one for us. You wouldn't even have to go through the pain of childbirth."

He squeezed my cheek, the calluses on his fingertips brushing against my skin with a rough tenderness. "I'll take care of everything."

I leaned against him, resting my head on his chest. His strong heartbeat, once my safe harbor in this cruel world, now offered no comfort at all.

Lorenzo's plan was painfully obvious: bring his bastard into our home for me to raise, all to keep up appearances.

How ridiculous. As if I were the one who couldn't have children.

You're so greedy, Lorenzo.

I didn't bring up the child again. Instead, I focused my attention on Bianca.

She had quit her job and was being kept in a luxury apartment on the South Side, with a maid to wait on her. Of course, a girl with Bianca's background couldn't resist showing off. Her social media was filled with luxury goods and all sorts of unsubtle brags.

[Four months along! My future mother-in-law just gifted me more jewelry! I told her she didn't have to, but she insisted. The Gallo family is so good to me!]

[My man says this baby is the hope of the family, and I'm the hero who made it all possible!]

[Can't wait to sunbathe with him—just the three of us!]

Her latest post was a photo taken on a private yacht. A man's arm was casually draped around her, his hand resting on her pregnant belly.

Even though I could only see the hand, I recognized it immediately.

Lorenzo's.

How bold.

He didn't even take off the Gallo family signet ring. Maybe he was too caught up in the moment and forgot. Or maybe he thought I would never see it.

That ring wasn't just any piece of jewelry. I was the one who placed it on his finger the day he was promoted to Underboss.

I created a burner account and left a comment on her post:

[Are you the new Mrs. Gallo? I heard they've been married five years with no news. Congratulations on finally bringing an heir to the Gallo family!]

By the time I refreshed the page, the post was gone.

I set down my phone, a cruel smile twisting my lips.

So, you do know a surrogate is meant for the shadows, not the spotlight.