The Pregnancy I Faked, His Empire I’ll Break

Enzo’s pupils contracted.

The hand holding the glass gave a nearly invisible tremor.

He covered it quickly, his fear replaced by an offended rage.

“Marcella, what is that look?” he snarled, using his Don’s authority to mask his guilt. “I am your husband! Your Don! Would I hurt you? Would I hurt my own son?”

A laugh died in my throat. Husband. The man who’d put a dagger with my name on it straight through my heart.

The one who hurt me most was never my enemy. It was you, Enzo.

But I didn’t call him on it.

I knew the drug wouldn’t cause permanent harm to a healthy woman.

It would just trigger violent muscle spasms.

Time to put on a show.

“Of course not,” I said softly. “I’m just nervous.”

I met his gaze over the rim of the glass.

A silent toast to the fool who thought he was in control.

Then I tipped my head back and drained the bitter liquid.

Enzo let out a breath, a savage look of triumph in his eyes. He thought he’d won.

The drug hit faster than I expected.

Five minutes later, a vicious cramp seized my abdomen.

The pain was real. Cold sweat soaked through my silk nightgown.

I collapsed onto the sofa with a pained groan. “Ah… it hurts…”

Just then, the color drained from Enzo’s face.

He took a call, and his expression turned to one of pure panic.

“Dammit! Eliana’s in labor, too!”

He roared in frustration, completely forgetting about me writhing in ‘pain,’ and turned to grab his car keys.

The rain fell in black sheets. Enzo’s armored Cadillac fishtailed out of the driveway.

He’d picked up Eliana. She was in the back, soaked and shivering.

Her screams nearly shattered the bulletproof windows.

“Enzo! Help me! Something is clawing at me from the inside!” She dug her nails deep into his arm. “It hurts! Our baby… we’re going to die!”

“Shh, Eliana, shh!” Enzo yelled, one hand on the wheel as he turned to soothe her, his eyes filled with heartbreak. “I’m here! I swear, I would trade my life for yours and the baby’s!”

And what about me?

Curled in the corner of the backseat, I played my part, pale and pained. He never even looked at me.

I was just cargo.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the family’s private hospital.

A medical team was already waiting.

“Her! Get her first!” Enzo roared, shoving past a nurse who reached for me. “She’s critical!” He swept Eliana into his arms and charged for the emergency entrance.

As Enzo carried her inside, she glanced over his shoulder. Her lips curled into a smirk. Victory.

I was left alone in the downpour, rain mixing with the cold sweat on my face.

A few minutes later, two intern nurses finally rushed out with a wheelchair. “Donna, hang on!”

I was pushed into a delivery room.

The moment the door slammed shut, the grimace of pain fell from my face.

Standing before the operating table was my doctor—my cousin, Dr. Rossi.

He had already sent everyone else away, leaving only his two most trusted nurses.

Our eyes met.

Dr. Rossi looked at my huge silicone belly, his expression a mix of awe and terror.

He gave a silent, firm nod.

Everything was ready.

Time ticked by.

The thunder outside masked all the dirty deeds happening within.

Hours later, in the dead of night.

My hospital room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor.

I lay in bed, eyes closed, breathing evenly, as if I’d passed out from a ‘difficult birth.’

But every muscle in my body was tense, my senses on high alert.

The lock clicked. Someone slipped inside.

The footsteps were light and hesitant, full of guilt, as they approached my bed.

It was Enzo.

He was holding a tightly wrapped baby basket.

Enzo held his breath, tiptoeing to my bedside.

His hands trembled as he prepared to swap this baby for the ‘pure-blooded heir’ that never existed.

He leaned down, the baby’s face just inches from my neck.

And in that moment…

My eyes snapped open. In the dim light, they locked onto his. Cold. Sharp. Pinning him in place.

My voice cut through the silence, cold as the grave.

“Lost something, Enzo?”