"Traditional Italian customs give you three options: marriage, death, or blood feud lasting generations. But I found something interesting—cases where this exact situation came up between feuding families."
"And?"
"Usually ends badly. But there's one exception where everyone thrives—a male heir. If the union produces a son, he becomes a bridge between families, carrying both bloodlines. Instead of dishonor, it becomes strategic alliance."
My pulse quickens. "Explain."
"A grandson who's both Lombardi and Bonacci. Families can't war against each other without risking harm to their shared blood. The child becomes untouchable, and by extension, so do his parents. I found two documented cases—1934 Sicily with the Rossi and Benedetto families, 1958 Naples with the Marino and Costello families. Both ended fifty-year feuds."
"What happened to the couples?"
"They became partners building something bigger than either family alone. The women were celebrated as mothers of unity."
"It has to be a boy?"
"Traditionally, yes. Male heirs carry family names forward, inherit from both grandfathers, unite territories. If it's a girl, families usually agree to try again."
"How long do they wait for pregnancy?"
"Here's the key—if she's already pregnant when the dishonor is discovered, it changes everything. Both fathers become invested in protecting the pregnancy. Roberto stops seeing you as the man who dishonored his daughter and starts seeing you as the father of his potential heir. Your father stops seeing her as enemy property and starts seeing her as the mother of the next generation."
"Pregnancy makes them allies?"
"Exactly. As long as she's capable of bearing children and you're both making the effort, both families have incentive to keep you alive and healthy."
"Risks?"
"If there's no pregnancy, you're back to the original three options. If she can't conceive or miscarries repeatedly, you run out of chances. But if she's pregnant right now, you're negotiating from strength. You're offering both families something they want more than revenge—a legacy. A dynasty."
I hang up and look toward the ceiling where Viviana is moving around.
If she's pregnant, we're not only fighting for our lives, we're potentially offering both families the one thing they want more than victory over each other.
A future.
Chapter 16: Viviana
Damon tries to maintain professional distance, but I catch him watching me when he thinks I'm not looking. I attempt to act casual, but every time he's in the same room, my skin feels too tight and my heart races like I've been running.
We're like two people walking on eggshells, except the eggshells are made of sexual tension and unresolved feelings.
"Coffee?" he asks from the kitchen doorway, holding up the pot.
"Thanks." I don't look up from the book I'm pretending to read.
He brings me a mug, and when our fingers brush during the exchange, we both jerk back like we've been burned. The coffee sloshes, nearly spilling onto my lap.
"Sorry," he mutters.
"It's fine."
But it's not fine. Nothing about this is fine.
I watch him retreat to the kitchen island, putting careful distance between us, and try to focus on my book. It's some thriller I found on the shelf, but I've read the same paragraph four times without absorbing a single word.
Because all I can think about is how his hands felt on my skin. How much I want him to touch me again despite knowing how complicated it makes everything.
"I have to go out later," he says without looking at me.
