And please beg God to forgive me.
I married Dario for love, Blessed Mother.
And despite the things he has done, he is a good man, deep down.
If anyone must bear the punishment for what I’ve done, please let it be me…
But please… please don’t let my baby suffer for my sin.
The one great hope I had was Dario’s promise to me:
That, with Roberto’s help, he would take the business legitimate.
That they would leave behind their family’s legacy of crime.
If God would only give us time, I was sure Dario would make good on his promise.
With God’s forgiveness, I hoped that would be enough to wash away the stain of my sin…
Of loving a violent man.
That was my one ray of hope – the single candle that lit my way in a pitch-black cavern of fear.
And then…
The candle was snuffed out.
Two foot soldiers stood watch outside the parlor. They bowed their heads respectfully, and one knocked lightly on the door.
I heard Dario’s voice call out. “Come in.”
I entered to find him staring out the window, deep in thought.
When he turned and saw it was me, he smiled.“Amore mio.”
I smiled back. “You wanted to see me?”
“I did.” As he walked over, he asked, “How is our daughter?”
“She’s going to be a professional footballer, I think. Here, feel.”
I took his hand and placed it on the side of my belly.
When Dario felt her little foot kicking, his face lit up with joy –
And then his expression suddenly dimmed, as though he was saddened by something.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“How have you been feeling?”
“Good,” I said, then allowed myself to get a bit closer to the truth. “…okay. By the way, Raffaelo figured out about the preeclampsia.”
Dario’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”
“He could tell from the symptoms, I guess. But he said I would be fine.”
“Of course you will,” Dario said. Not in the calm, reassuring tones that Raffaelo had used, but with an urgency that made me slightly uneasy – like he was trying to convince himself. “You already have the finest doctors in all of Italy. And if you need the best in the world, I will get them for you.”
