ISABELLA
I wake to sunlight warming my face and my sheets tangled around me. The night before comes rushing back. How I seduced Alessandro in his office. How hours later, he came to bed and did the most delicious things to my body. But it wasn’t just the sex. Something had changed. I was sure of it. We’ve been married three weeks, and what I believed would be a life of misery is slowly becoming a real marriage.
Rolling onto my side, I stretch my arm across the bed where Alessandro sleeps. The sheets are cool. He’s probably been up for hours. No surprise there. Alessandro’s first priority is the business.
I slide from the bed when a sudden wave of nausea washes over me.
"Not again," I moan, pressing my hand to my stomach. This is the third morning in a row that I've woken up feeling sick. Yesterday's breakfast of toast and eggs triggered a violent retching that had me hunched over the toilet for half an hour.The day before, even the scent of Alessandro's coffee had sent me running from our bedroom.
But by midday, it’s gone and I feel normal, so it can’t be the flu. And if it’s day after day, it can’t be food poisoning, right?
"Signora?" Elena's voice comes through the door after a knock. "Would you like your breakfast now?"
The mere thought of food sends another wave crashing through me. "Not yet, Elena. Thank you."
I make my way to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I reach for my hairbrush, then pause as realization strikes me.
When was my last period?
I set the brush down and mentally count backward. I've always been regular, predictable to the day, but apparently, not anymore.
"Five weeks," I say to my reflection in the mirror.
Five weeks since my last period.
My heart pounds at the possibility. Could it be…? And then I roll my eyes at myself. Of course it could be. From the night on the rooftop terrace to Capri to even last night, Alessandro has never used a condom.
A baby.
Panic strikes as I remember Alessandro saying he didn’t want kids. Does that mean he expected me to be on birth control?
I sink onto the edge of the bathtub at a loss for what to do. Whether he wants this baby, it’s here. It’s not like I can hideit. Still, maybe something else is going on. I need to know for certain before I say anything to Alessandro. Then I can prepare myself for whatever his reaction might be.
I shower and dress, and as I do, I can’t help a feeling of joy blossoming over the idea of a child. A baby. A family of my own. Something no one, not my father, not my brother, not even Alessandro, can take from me.
I need to get a test, but how can I get one without everyone finding out? Alessandro has men watching me constantly, he says for safety, especially after the assassination attempt. It’s not that I don’t believe him, but I also suspect it’s because he still doesn't trust me.
I can't have one of the staff get it as they’d tell Alessandro. And I certainly can't ask Eva, though I've grown closer to her. She’d be obliged to tell Adriano, who’d tell Alessandro.
Maybe I can plan a shopping trip. There are a few things I need. My guards are attentive, but they don’t necessarily hover.
Once I’m ready, I go downstairs. "I'd like to go shopping this afternoon," I announce to Gino, the head of security.
He nods, already speaking into his radio to arrange my escort.
When we finally arrive at the boutique conveniently located next to a drugstore, my guards take their positions outside as expected.
"I'll be about an hour," I tell them.
They nod.
Inside, I greet the saleswoman and select a few dresses to try on. But instead of heading to the dressing rooms, I casuallymention, "I just remembered I need to pick up something at the pharmacy next door. Can you hold these for me? I'll be right back to try them on."
“Of course, Mrs. Dante. I’ll put them in your usual changing room.”
“Thank you.”
As she puts the dresses in the dressing room, I slip out the side door and hurry into the drug store. I scan the aisles, quickly finding the pregnancy tests. I grab three different brands, wanting to be absolutely certain, and pay in cash from my allowance to avoid any record.
