She Made Way for His Lover, but He Wants a Do-Over

Silvia was pregnant. It felt like a cruel twist of fate.

The doctor gestured to the test results, his expression grave. "Donna Valenti, this isn't an optimistic case. You've been taking neuropathic pain medication long-term.

"You've also suffered multiple serious injuries during missions. I need to be clear that, given your physical condition, trying to carry the pregnancy could lead to severe bleeding.

"The risk of maternal death is extremely high."

Silvia rested a hand over her belly. It was still flat beneath her palm.

"I'm going to have the baby."

She folded the ultrasound report with care. Her eyes held a stubbornness she'd never had before.

In a world full of betrayal and killing, she only wanted something truly hers, her own flesh and blood.

Before the good news could be shared, Silvia was hit with a stack of photographs that left her stunned.

The pictures showed her in a dark alley in the slums, caught mid-struggle with several heavily tattooed men. The shots were taken from carefully chosen angles, intimate enough to suggest a hookup.

"Explain."

Silvia's expression shifted as she answered cautiously, "Those men were just—"

Dante interrupted with a sneer, "Just your affairs? I thought you were cold by nature, Silvia. I didn't realize you were this filthy underneath. You're that desperate for excitement now that even street punks will do?"

Silvia snapped her head up. "I didn't! You know exactly what kind of person I am."

Dante tossed a crumpled piece of paper at her. "I used to. Not anymore. Lucia found this ultrasound report in your trash."

He read the line aloud, his smile crooked. "Eight weeks pregnant. I was busy expanding territory then. We slept together once, and you ended up pregnant. You really expect me to believe that?"

He'd already believed Lucia's whispers and decided Silvia was sleeping around.

"This is your child! You were drunk that night—"

Dante cut her off, closing his hand around her wrist, "If it's mine, we'll confirm it. We're going to the hospital!"

"No! The fetus isn't stable. An invasive test right now could cause serious harm. Do you want the baby dead?"

Dante moved in, his presence pressing down on her. "You won't agree? Then, I'll treat it like a bastard."

"Dante, are you insane? Even animals don't kill their own young!"

His reply was flat. "If it can't make it through something this basic, then it doesn't deserve my name."

"You—"

"Take her away."

Silvia could've fought them off without breaking a sweat. But with the child inside her, she didn't risk it, and they forced her into the car.

…

"Don Valenti, there's a very high chance this test could cause a miscarriage."

"Proceed."

Dante sat on the couch at St. Marelle's Private Hospital, his legs crossed as he lit a cigar. Smoke drifted between him and the scene, and he watched without emotion.

"But…"

The doctor started to protest, then fell silent when the gun appeared.

Silvia was bound to the bed, her limbs pinned and useless.

To Dante, only his dignity mattered. He'd rather make a fatal mistake than allow even the smallest stain to remain.

Silvia turned her head, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. "Dante, you'll get what's coming to you! If the baby's hurt, you'll get what's coming to you!"

The doctor said helplessly, "Please try to relax. The more you struggle, the greater the risk—"

"Get away!"

Maternal instinct drowned out what little reason she had left.

She was Silvia Serra, with that man's blood in her veins, and she knew how to claw her way out of a dead end.

She broke free of the straps, snatched the tray, and caught the scalpel in a reverse grip. Several people went down in quick succession.

Dante heard the commotion and came back. He stopped short at the mess, his face darkening. "This is how you're protecting that bastard?"

Silvia retreated until her back hit the wall. Her voice came out hoarse. "Dante, you won't claim this baby, but I will. If you want to hurt my baby, you'll have to kill me first!"

Dante stubbed out the cigar, his mood tangled. "You think you're getting out? The whole building is locked down."

"Then try me!"

Silvia seized the fire extinguisher at her side and smashed it into the window. The glass shattered instantly.

Cries rang out, and she leapt from the third floor without a second thought.

"Silvia!"

Dante stared, then ran to the window.

Below, a lone figure cut across the grass before disappearing into the trees. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her resolute escape sent a heavy pain through his chest.

Something was slipping out of his control.