The Night He Chose Her, I Lost Our Baby

Without warning, he threw the box at me.

It struck my forehead hard, sending a sharp pain through my head. I groaned softly, instinctively raising my hand to cover the spot as tears welled up in my eyes.

Dante seemed startled for a moment. "I didn't mean to do that," he said quickly. "Let me see."

I pulled away from him, avoiding his touch. "I'm fine," I muttered.

Ignoring my words, he reached out again, prying my hand away to inspect the injury. When he saw the swelling forming, his face darkened.

"This doesn't look fine," he said. "Stay here. I'll get some ice."

Before he could move, his phone rang.

The screen lit up with a contact name that felt like a slap in itself: "Little Trouble." The name was filled with affection, intimate and unmistakable. The kind of name a man only gives a woman he lets close enough to be careless with him. In this world, that kind of closeness was its own currency.

"Dante!" Viviana's voice came through immediately.

The moment he heard her voice, especially the faint sound of her whimpering, his entire demeanor changed. He tensed, concern evident in his expression. The Don of the Moretti Family, a man who made rooms go quiet when he entered them, shifted his weight toward a phone like a soldier answering a summons.

"Viv, don't cry," he said quickly. "What's wrong?"

"I have a stomachache," she sniffled softly. "I want to go to the clinic, but I got turned around near the waterfront. I don't even know where I am…"

Dante frowned deeply. "Why didn't you call me when you decided to go? We agreed I'd have a car sent for you."

Her voice became even softer, more fragile. "I messed up again today and made Serena upset. I didn't want to bother you both…"

His tone immediately turned serious. "Viv, you're carrying a child. Nothing is more important than that."

"Send me your location. I'm coming to get you."

"No, Dante," she protested weakly. "I can get there on my own. And tonight is Serena's… you should stay with her…"

Dante chuckled lightly, almost amused. "Silly girl. One more night with her won't magically produce an heir."

"You're what matters right now. Send me your location."

He hung up and looked at me with visible impatience. "Did you hear that? Viv is worried about you, and all you do is act paranoid."

"I'm going to take her to the clinic," he added. "I'll grab some ice packs for you on the way back."

He picked up the keys to the Maserati, ready to leave without another thought. The soldier posted outside the hallway shifted at the sound of movement, waiting for a signal.

"Dante, wait," I called out.

He turned around sharply, irritation clear on his face. "Serena, can you stop this?"

"This is about two lives, hers and the baby's," he said. "Don't turn it into another jealous tantrum."

I didn't bother arguing anymore. Instead, I walked quietly to the coat closet and took out the jacket he had worn a few days ago.

From the inside pocket, I pulled out a card and held it out to him. "Viviana's clinic card. You'll need it."

Viviana never handled her own visits to the discreet family clinic. Dante always kept her card with him, right beside the estate receipts and the fold of emergency cash he carried for the Family's private physician.

For a moment, he looked surprised. Then he reached out and took it from me. "Thanks."

He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more.

But I didn't give him the chance. "Drive safe," I said calmly.

I reached up and adjusted his collar, just like I always did whenever he left the house. The gesture was familiar, almost instinctive. My fingers brushed the lapel of his overcoat the way they had a thousand times before, straightening what didn't need straightening.

But deep down, I knew this would be the last time.

For a brief moment, his expression softened, as if something inside him had shifted. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer into his arms.

"I'll be back soon," he said quietly. "Wait for me."

I didn't wait.

After sending a brief message to Lydia Carbone to begin the separation process, I put my phone aside and went to bed earlier than usual. My fingers drifted once to the fine chain at my throat, then fell away. I didn't feel like thinking anymore, didn't want to dwell on anything that had already been decided.