Dante nodded, that same cold smile still on his face. “Things are going to get very unpleasant.”

I rubbed my belly absentmindedly. “What will you do? Has Matteo cancelled the wedding yet?”

“Oh no. Matteo has no intention to cancel the wedding. He’s determined to find Gianna. He already started searching for her.” He sighed. “Scuderi is sending two of his soldiers with Matteo. The three of them should be able to track down the girl. They are professionals and she’s a sheltered girl who doesn’t know anything about the real world.”

I could feel a new wave of sickness rising up in me, but I fought it. “Don’t underestimate Gianna. If there’s anyone who could do it, then it’s her.”

“Perhaps. But she’s also hot-headed, and that will eventually lead her to making mistakes.”

I sucked in a deep breath through my teeth as my stomach churned again. Dante searched my face. “You look pale. Are you still not feeling well? Maybe you should talk to the doc.”

“No, I…” I didn’t get to finish the sentence when another wave of nausea washed over me. I rushed out of Dante’s office and toward the guest bathroom. I wouldn’t make it to the master bathroom on the second floor. The moment I was bent over the toilet, I emptied what little I had eaten that morning. Bile burned in my throat. I closed my eyes for a moment as I clung to the bowl. It didn’t help with the dizziness, if possible it made things even worse. My eyes popped open when I heard steps behind me and Dante’s black Budapest shoes appeared in my peripheral vision. I quickly flushed the toilet and staggered to my feet. Dante gripped my arm to steady me as I swayed. “Valentina?” His voice conveyed confusion.

I rinsed my mouth over the washbasin and washed my face. I could feel Dante’s eyes on me the entire time. I faced him, smiling shakily. “I’m fine.”

Dante didn’t look convinced. He followed me into the lobby and then upstairs into our bedroom. I wanted to change my shirt. I couldn’t help but think it smelled of vomit. I knew Dante was suspicious, but I didn’t want to tell him about our baby when he was in such a bad mood because of Gianna. I’d rather keep it a secret a bit longer.

Dante touched my waist. “You know I hate it when you’re keeping secrets. Don’t make it a habit.”

I met his gaze, and pressed my palm against my stomach. Dante followed the movement, his body turning tense.

“I’m pregnant,” I said quietly, hopefully. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. I knew Dante wasn’t the overly emotional type but I’d hoped for some flicker of joy at least. But there was only suspicion on his face. He took a step back, eyes hard and calculating. “Pregnant?”

“Yes. We never used protection, so I don’t know why you’re acting so shocked. Wasn’t a heir one of the reasons why you married me?”

“That was the reason why my father wanted me to marry again.”

“So you don’t want kids?”

Dante’s mouth was set in a tight line. “Is it mine?”

Now it was my turn to stumble away from him, shock and hurt slamming into me. I couldn’t even say anything. Had he really just asked what I think he had? I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

“Answer my question,” Dante said in a low voice.

“Of course it is your child. You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with. How can you even ask such a question? How dare you?”

“I’m not keeping track of everything you do, and there are many men who frequent the casino where you work that wouldn’t say no to a night with you. You’ve made a habit out of keeping things from me. Do I have to remind you of Frank?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I didn’t want to believe it. Tears of disappointment and fury burned in my eyes. Being pregnant hadn’t exactly helped with my temper and emotionality. “How can you even say something like that? I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me like that. I’m loyal to this marriage. There’s a difference between not telling you about Frank and between cheating on you.”

Dante still didn’t look convinced. “My first wife and I tried for years to get pregnant. It never worked. You and I have been married for less than four months and you’re already pregnant.”

“I don’t know why you act as if that’s impossible. If your first wife was infertile, then that’s your explanation. Have you never consulted with a doctor? Or did you think it was you who was infertile?”

“We never went to a doctor to find out why we couldn’t conceive. Not that it is any of your business. I won’t discuss my first marriage with you.”

I knew why he’d never consulted with a doctor. Stupid pride of Made Men. They’d rather live in ignorance than risk being told that they were shooting blanks. “Too bad. We’re discussing it now. I know why you didn’t want to find out. You didn’t want to know the truth, because you worried it would make you less of a man if it was your fault that your wife couldn’t get pregnant. But now we know it wasn’t your fault. It was Carla who was infertile.” I winced inwardly at my wording. I didn’t want to badmouth a dead woman.

Dante shook his head. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about Carla.”

“Why not? Because you still love her? Because you can’t move on?” He stiffened. “I’m sorry you lost Carla, but I’m your wife now.” Suddenly everything I’d bottled up seemed to come to the surface.

I could see that Dante was teetering on the edge of losing control, and I wanted him to. I was so sick of his sophisticated calm, of his cold logic. “I’m so sick of you treating me like a whore. You ignore me by day and come to me at night for sex. And now you accuse me of cheating on you? Sometimes I think you hurt me on purpose to keep me at arm-length. When will you finally move on? Your wife has been dead for four years, it’s time you stop pitying yourself and realize that life goes on. When will you stop clinging to the memory of a dead woman and realize there’s someone in your life who wants to be with you?”

Dante was in front of me without a warning, his eyes flashing with fury and sorrow. “Don’t talk about her.”

I lifted my chin. “She’s dead and she won’t come back, Dante.”

He clenched his hands at his side. “Stop talking about her.” There was a hint of warning in his voice.

“Or what?” I said, even though the anger in Dante’s eyes sent a shiver of fear down my back. “Do you want to hit me? Go ahead. It can’t possibly be worse than the knife you thrust into my back by accusing me of carrying another man’s child.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. If he raised his hand against me, this marriage would be over once and for all. I knew some women in our world accepted physical abuse, many didn’t have any choice but to do it, Bibiana was one of them, but I’d sworn myself that I’d never bow down to a man like that. Stupid tears made my vision blurry, but I forced them back. I wouldn’t cry in front of Dante.

“You’re so busy honoring her memory and protecting the image of her you have in your mind that you don’t realize how badly you’re treating me. You lost your first wife through no fault of your own, but you will be losing me because you can’t let go of her.”