She Was Forced to Marry an Infertile Mafia Boss — Months Later, Her Morning Sickness Shocked All
Chapter 8
Adrian Moreau didn’t attack again immediately.
Instead, he began a psychological war.
A newspaper published photographs of Elena leaving the clinic.
Then another article appeared.
DELUCA HEIR ON THE WAY?
The city exploded with rumors.
Some called it a miracle.
Others called it a betrayal.
Then someone leaked Vincent’s medical records.
The headline appeared everywhere.
MAFIA BOSS DECLARED INFERTILE — WIFE PREGNANT.
Elena stared at the screen.
Vincent stood behind her.
“They want people to question the baby.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if people believe you’re carrying another man’s child, they can destroy my authority.”
Elena turned.
“Do you believe me?”
Vincent’s answer was immediate.
“Without question.”
That night, he moved Elena into the most secure section of the mansion.
But Elena noticed something different.
Vincent was afraid.
Not for himself.
For her.
One evening, she found him sitting alone in the nursery.
The room had been prepared secretly.
A small crib stood near the window.
On the wall were photographs of Chicago landmarks.
Elena smiled.
“You did this?”
Vincent looked embarrassed.
“I don’t know anything about babies.”
“You bought a crib.”
“That seemed like a reasonable beginning.”
She sat beside him.
“Have you thought about names?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid to imagine the future.”
Elena reached for his hand.
“Then imagine it anyway.”
He looked at her.
“I imagine you holding our child.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I imagine that too.”
Vincent leaned closer.
Then suddenly his phone rang.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He listened.
“Where?”
He stood.
Elena knew immediately.
“What happened?”
“Marco is missing.”
The room became silent.
Marco had been Vincent’s most trusted lieutenant.
The man who had protected him since childhood.
They searched for six hours.
His car was found abandoned near Navy Pier.
No blood.
No body.
Only a note.
Vincent opened it.
Three words.
THE HEIR KNOWS.
Elena stared at the paper.
“Who?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Adrian.”
Then another phone rang.
This time it was Elena’s.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then a man’s voice whispered,
“You should never have married him.”
The line went dead.
Vincent took the phone.
“Trace it.”
Luca immediately began working.
Elena’s hands trembled.
Vincent pulled her close.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I am.”
“So am I.”
She looked up.
He kissed her forehead.
“But we’re going to survive this.”
Neither noticed the tiny red light blinking inside the nursery’s smoke detector.
Someone was watching them.
And whoever it was knew exactly where the baby would sleep.
