Seven months pregnant with the Gambino heir, anxiety was my constant companion. Sleepless one night, I found myself doomscrolling through an anonymous, members-only forum—the kind you need an exclusive invitation to join.

A popular post titled "[Would you let the mafia boss you love experience labor pains?]" caught my eye.

One reply, a mix of photos and text, had been voted to the top. The poster's handle was a simple "C."

[Of course! After my king went through a labor simulator, he swore he’d never put me through that pain. It’s fine, though. We’re about to have our baby anyway.]

Someone below questioned: [If you're not giving birth, where is the child coming from? How can an adopted child inherit the family business?]

"C" replied smugly: [His clueless wife has been trying to conceive for five years and finally got pregnant. I’m just borrowing her womb for my baby. Once the child is born, it’s all mine.]

[She's seven months along. The poor fool is still in the dark, with no idea whose child she’s actually carrying.]

Five years trying to conceive. Seven months pregnant. The parallels were chilling. I knew how hard it was to protect a child in a family built on lies and betrayal.

A cold fury coiled in my gut. How could anyone be so shameless?

I kept scrolling until a 4D ultrasound photo, paired with a close-up of a man's hand, made my blood run cold.

My breath hitched. The photo showed a man's hand. On his ring finger was the griffin-embossed ring I had personally designed for Vinny—a bespoke anniversary gift. There wasn't another one like it in all of New York.

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1

It all clicked into place. I’d never seen a hint of myself in the ultrasound photos, and I’d always felt a bizarre disconnect from the baby growing inside me.

I scrambled to "C's" profile and clicked on her most-liked post.

[Documenting the wild night he gave me.]

The photo only showed a man's broad back, but I still spotted a damning detail.

Three faint red scratches marred his bare back—marks I knew my own nails had left during a rare moment of intimacy the night before.

My heart seized as if gripped by an icy hand, the breath catching in my throat. I clutched my belly, gasping for air.

No wonder Vinny was so resistant whenever I mentioned attending prenatal birthing classes.

It turned out all his tenderness was being saved for another woman.

He knew childbirth could kill a woman.

So he was borrowing my body, my womb, to give his mistress an heir.

The comment section of this anonymous community had already exploded, with many insiders clearly watching the drama unfold.

[Upvote this! This has to be Gambino family drama! Is she seriously carrying a baby for some Bellini bastard?]

[Even if the child is born, it's impossible for it to be given to her. An illegitimate daughter can never be officially acknowledged.]

[I really feel for that Rossi girl. She’s already seven months along; for the sake of the family alliance, she’d never be able to bring herself to abort it.]

"C" shot back at the comments, her arrogance on full display.

[So what if she sees it? Her health is fragile, and she's seven months along. If she terminates now, she'll never be able to have children again.]

[No need for your concern. Vinny said she's quit her job to focus on the pregnancy. Once the baby's weaned, he'll get rid of her.]

[The divorce will be easy. She has this obsession with emotional fidelity. Add a little postpartum depression to the mix, and she’ll walk away on her own.]

The smug gloating practically leaped off the screen.

She was right. I demand absolute fidelity and cannot tolerate any betrayal, especially one born from such a dirty scheme.

The severe symptoms of my third trimester had already forced me to pause my work as an art restorer, a sacrifice that was causing me immense stress.

I was, indeed, a prime candidate for postpartum depression.

[Keep seething. The only reason she couldn’t get pregnant for five years was because I wasn’t done with him yet.]

[All those expensive, custom-made vitamins she was taking? Vinny swapped them for birth control pills.]

I yanked open the drawer and stared at the vitamin bottle from our family doctor.

Could it be true? Were they really just birth control?

Desperate, I called a man loyal to my father and had him rush the pills to a private lab for testing.

I stared intently at my phone screen, waiting for the latest reply to that post.

Perhaps it was dinnertime, as "C" went quiet.

No matter how viciously others cursed her, she didn't reappear.

I gently caressed my swollen abdomen.

For this heir of the Gambino family, I had endured countless shots to prevent miscarriage, and my feet were so swollen they couldn't fit into high heels.

I couldn't just give up on this baby because of some anonymous post.

My mind was a maelstrom, a hundred frantic thoughts crashing into one another.

Should I confront Vinny right now?

But I had no concrete evidence. He would just dismiss it as pregnancy-induced paranoia, or worse, turn it around and accuse me of distrusting the family.

Suddenly, a new update with a photo popped up under the post.

[Stop being so sour, everyone. My king just cooked me a feast. He’s taking time out of his busy schedule to eat with me, so he has no time for any of you.]

The table of food in the photo was exquisitely plated; one look and I knew it was Vinny's handiwork.

I dialed his number, but he declined my call again and again.

A message popped up on the encrypted communication app. It was Vinny.

Lena, I just finished negotiations with the dockworkers' union. I got you your favorite food.

Home in half an hour.

I stared at the antique clock on the wall, counting the time second by second.

Thirty minutes later, the sound of the keypad lock clicked outside the door.

"Lena, come and eat. It's all your favorite."

When I smelled the foreign perfume clinging to him and saw the takeout container in his hand, the life inside me seemed to recoil from the chill that enveloped my heart.

"Lena, how's our little one doing today? Just a little longer now."

He squatted down, his large, strong hands gently massaging my swollen ankles, his eyes filled with the deep affection I once drowned in.

"It's all your favorite, but I got held up by a few family calls on the way."

"Hold on, I'll go heat this up for you."

He picked up the takeout box from the upscale restaurant and headed for the microwave.

My phone screen lit up. The anonymous community post had a new reply.

[Vinny made too much, so I had him pack the leftovers. I picked the pink container myself. Can't let his precious son go hungry, right?]

The pink Hello Kitty takeout box on the table stung my eyes like a poisoned needle.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

It turned out I was the fool they were plotting against in the post.

"Lena, it's heated up. Come, let me feed you."

I looked at Vinny's charming face, a face that was once my entire faith.

I still couldn't fathom that he would conspire with another woman to deceive me on this scale.

We had fallen in love at first sight at a gallery. My impression of him was powerful, charming, and ambitious.

Ours was an arranged marriage, a family alliance, but I'd fallen for him amidst the fierce possessiveness that defined our life together.

Every time we failed to conceive, he would cage me in his searing embrace and comfort me in a husky voice.

When, through IVF, we finally saw the two red lines on the pregnancy test, he was even more excited than I was.

I naively thought that our power and love had finally borne their inevitable fruit.

It turned out I had foolishly walked right into a trap they had meticulously designed.

I pushed away the fork he brought to my lips.

I looked him straight in the eye. "Vinny, do you think it's possible there was a mistake during the embryo transfer? I want to get a check-up."

The hand stirring his food froze, and an almost imperceptible flicker of darkness crossed his features.

"Lena, have you been reading too much garbage online? How is that possible? That hospital is controlled by the Family. Their tech is the best in the world. They don't make mistakes."

"But I'm just scared. I looked it up; amniocentesis can be used for a DNA test. Vinny, let's go get it done, just for peace of mind."

He put down his utensils, a flash of irritation in his eyes, tinged with the anger of being challenged.

"Lena, I'm worried about the risk to you and the baby. Trust me, a mistake like that is absolutely impossible."

He began deploying his usual cocktail of force and affection, trying every trick to dissuade me, but I wouldn't budge.

His encrypted phone rang. He glanced at the screen and stood up, heading for the study.

"Lena, there's an urgent family matter. I need to take this call."

He walked into the study and closed the heavy, soundproof door.

The faint sounds of an argument were completely blocked out.

Five minutes later, he walked out, his brow relaxed.

"Lena, since you're feeling uneasy, I'll go with you. We'll book the test right now."

"Really? But just now you were..."

Vinny cut me off, pulling me into his arms. "Lena, of course I love our child, but I love you more. Your feelings are what's most important. Only when you're at ease can my heir grow up healthy."

I was filled with suspicion. What could have caused Vinny's attitude to do a complete one-eighty?

On the way to the private hospital, I found the answer in that post.

[The bitch suddenly wants a DNA test. You think she saw the post?]

[But I'm not worried. Let her check. It’s just a piece of paper. We have a guy on the inside. It’s handled.]

I clutched my phone tightly, my lips pressed together in silence.

"Lena, are you not feeling well? Why do you look so pale?" Vinny's voice came from beside me.

As the car neared the entrance of the private hospital, I grabbed Vinny's sleeve.

"Can we go to a different private hospital? I don't want to do it at this one."

Vinny looked at me, confused. "Lena, we've been coming to this private hospital since we created your file. All your data is here. Why the sudden change?"

"Dr. Rossi is one of ours, Lena. You chose him yourself. It's too late to switch now."

He took my hand, the warmth of his palm carrying an undeniable force.

"Have you been too anxious lately? It's all my fault. I'm always thinking about expanding our territory, making more money, to create a better life for you and the child."

If this were before, I would have been moved by his strength and ambition.

But now, that post was like a poisoned thorn, buried deep in my heart.

"Lena, the other top private hospitals are all fully booked. Let's just go get the test done first, okay?" His tone was gentle, but the pressure of his hand on mine was a silent command.

The cold probe entered my body, and I couldn't stop trembling.

Vinny held my hand tightly, whispering in my ear as if soothing a frightened pet.

"The madam needs to lie down and rest. The results will be out in 48 hours."

Perhaps because I was so nervous, I actually fell asleep in the recovery room.

When I woke up, Vinny was gone.

The elevator was occupied by his bodyguards, so I held my belly and walked down the stairs on the other side.

In the garden at the turn of the staircase, I saw Vinny.

He was holding a girl in his arms—Carla, the illegitimate daughter of the Bellini family, and years younger than me.

"Why did you come to the private hospital? It's so chaotic outside lately." Vinny worriedly tried to wrap her in his overcoat.

"I was just worried about our baby, you know? When will the results be out?"

The girl pressed her body tightly against Vinny's chest, placing her hand on her own flat stomach.

"Don't worry, I've arranged everything. There won't be any problems with the results. You'll get your wish soon. You'll be the Donna of the Gambino family." Vinny bent and kissed her hand where it rested on her flat stomach.

"But you, it's so cold out. Go back quickly. Don't make me worry."

She stomped her foot playfully. "No, I want to stay with you. It's not like she's going to wake up."

"I'm hungry. Will you take me to eat?"

Vinny looked at her dotingly, gently brushing the stray hairs from her forehead.

"Whatever you say. I'll listen to you. What do you want to eat?"

The possessiveness and love in his eyes were something I had never seen in our five years of marriage.

The girl whispered something in his ear, and Vinny laughed, sweeping her up in his arms and walking unabashedly toward the back exit of the private hospital.