Filed to story: Bound by Honor (Aria & Luca) Drama Story
“Do you know what it is?” I asked, trying to keep my voice relaxed even if the thought that Aria had found out without me at her side felt like a stab to the heart.
“No,” she said softly, raking her fingers through my wet hair. “It’s probably still too soon and I didn’t want to know. I’d hoped we could find out together.” Her voice broke, and I pressed my forehead against her bare thigh. She smelled faintly of vanilla and Aria’s very own clean sweetness.
“We will. I will be there for you every step of the way from now on, I swear.”
I felt Aria nod and when I looked up, she was crying again. “Aria,” I said in a pained voice. “Why are you crying again?”
I hated to see her tears. They made me feel like a monster because I knew I was the reason.
“I’m being emotional because of the hormones, Luca, that’s all.” She tried a smile but it came off shaky. “The due date is in July.”
Five and a half months to go. Suddenly, images of my own father popped up, uninvited and unpleasant. I had few good memories of the man. Matteo and I had definitely never loved him. He hadn’t been what anyone would consider a good father, not even in our world. How was I supposed to be a father to our child? Aria, she was a natural caretaker, but I was a destroyer, a killer.
Those thoughts tormented me as I helped Aria get dressed. She chanced the occasional glance at me, obviously picking up on my mood. Insecurity filled her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, principessa,” I told her, linking our fingers.
She gave a hesitant nod. “You don’t look happy.”
“I’m happy that you are pregnant, Aria, trust me,” I said firmly. I raised our linked hands and kissed her palm. “How could I not be happy about a small version of you?”
Her expression relaxed. “It could be a boy, then it would be a small version of you.”
My stomach tightened. I knew Made Men, especially a Capo, were supposed to produce an heir, but I didn’t want a son. With a son the chances that I’d act like my father to make the boy strong were too great. I didn’t want to become like him. Again Aria picked up on my hesitation, and frowned at me. Fuck. She knew me too well.
“You want a girl?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. There was no sense in pretending I didn’t care about the gender.
She searched my face as if the answers to her questions were hidden there. “Are you worried you won’t be able to love a son like a daughter?”
“I’ll love our child no matter the gender because it’s your flesh and blood, Aria. But with a boy, I’d need to think of his future.” I didn’t say more, didn’t want to elaborate. There was no use in discussing this when we didn’t even know if it was a boy.
“We should head out now,” I said, tugging her along. My grip on her tightened when she swayed again, and I pulled her against me as I led her out of our bedroom and downstairs. The first floor was deserted. Matteo had probably gone in search of Gianna.
“Does Gianna know about your pregnancy?” I asked as I led Aria toward my new black Mercedes G-Class parked in the driveway. I’d bought it to distract myself. Of course it hadn’t worked.
“She and Lily…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“And Romero,” I finished.
Worry filled her face. “I needed to involve him so he could guard me when I went to the gynecologist. I knew you would have hated it if I’d gone there without protection, and I couldn’t ask Sandro. He would have told you right away.”
I nodded as I held the door open for her. I’d have to have a talk with Romero anyway. She slipped in, but not without another worried look. “Don’t be mad at him. He helped me a lot. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
I stifled my anger. It wasn’t directed at Aria, not even at Romero. She shouldn’t have been forced to rely on Romero in the first place. I closed the door, walked around the hood and climbed behind the steering wheel.
Aria fell asleep during the drive back to New York and I let her. She looked exhausted. With her shirtdress, her bump wasn’t noticeable, and yet my eyes kept returning to the spot.
After I’d parked the car in a loading zone, I woke Aria. She sat up, startled. Her eyes took in our surroundings. “Are we already in Manhattan?”
“You slept through the ride,” I told her.
“Sorry.” She peered out of the window. “Are you sure we won’t get towed?”
“Yes,” I said. I got out, catching the eye of the restaurant owner whose loading zone I was barring. He recognized me. He paid us for protection.
I helped Aria out of the car and took her hand. She stiffened her spine, holding her head high. This was the public. Aria knew what was expected of both of us. We could always be followed by paparazzi. Usually my contacts checked in with me before photos got published, but I preferred not to have compromising photos in the first place. The Dante/Aria fiasco had been bad enough, and still made my blood boil.
“I hope Dr. Brightley has time for us,” Aria said as I followed her toward a building with several doctors for all kind of medical problems. That way at least people wouldn’t suspect Aria was pregnant. I didn’t want word to get out so soon, and if possible never. We were at war and children were too vulnerable. It was bad enough that Dante knew about the pregnancy, but I needed to keep it a secret from our other enemies, and that meant we would have to make sure there was never a press photo of Aria pregnant or with our child. I’d move heaven and earth to guarantee their safety.
When we stepped into the reception area of the practice, the eyes of the receptionist snapped toward us, widening when she took me in. Of course she knew me. I darted a look toward the closed door of the waiting room to our right. I wasn’t keen on other patients seeing us here and spreading rumors. We stepped toward the reception.
“Mrs. Vitiello, we didn’t expect you today,” the receptionist piped up.
“I reckon that won’t be a problem,” I said with a closed-lipped smile that always had the same effect on people. Aria’s cheeks turned red.
The receptionist blinked up at me, then quickly looked away, paling. “Uhh, of course. I’ll just have to check with Dr. Brightley first. We have quite a few patients in the waiting room. Perhaps you can sit down until I call you.”
“No,” I said. “You certainly understand that I don’t want to draw attention to my wife and me. I trust you’ll honor our wish for secrecy.” The smile got wider but my eyes narrowed.
She nodded and waved at another woman who was dressed in a bluish nurse’s uniform. “Can you please take Mr. and Mrs. Vitiello to a treatment room?”