“What I don’t understand is…” my words slurred softer now, “will he wait for the child to grow up and be the heir, or… wait.” Curiosity pried me upright again. “Does the current boss get to leave a will, like, stating who should take over the family business? Because I know your father’s old. If he’s planning to get another son, he won’t live long enough to raise him like he did with you.”
Vincenzo’s grip on the wheel tightened. His eyes flicked toward me. “What son?”
My stomach churned, the alcohol twisting inside me until I thought I might be sick. “The child he wants me to carry.” My thoughts blurred as nausea climbed. “Can you pull over, ple—”
The car screeched to a halt. I opened the door and stumbledout, collapsing onto the pavement and retching. The burn of liquor and bile tore through my throat until nothing was left.
The slam of the door echoed behind me. Vincenzo moved closer until he was standing beside me.
“I get sick when I drink,” I muttered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “God, I hate this.”
“Did you say you would be pregnant with my father’s child?”
I stood up straight, my head lifting to him, confusion and dread colliding. “What?”
His hand shot out, clamping around my wrist. The twist of his grip made my skin burn.
“What agreement did you make with my father?” His voice was low but dangerous.
“Vincenzo…” I tried to pull away, panic sparking within me. “You’re hurting me.”
“Answer my question!” he roared, twisting harder until pain seared through my hand.
“Okay. Okay.” My breath hitched, the sharpness cutting through my drunken haze. “He… he wants me to carry his child. The one who will be the heir.”
Silence fell. I saw the shift on his face before his grip loosened and he let go. He stepped back, the streetlights catching his features, his eyes a shadowed storm of shock, rage, and betrayal.
I realised what I had done. “Vincenzo, look—”
He chuckled, low and bitter, his head nodding once. “I see. So he already has plans for the heir.”
“Vincenzo.” My voice cracked. He moved toward the car. “Vincenzo.” I ran after him, desperation clawing at my throat. “Wait, please.”
“What?” he barked. I staggered back, bracing a hand on the car for balance. “What more do you have to say?” His voice rose. “Or what more don’t I know? Spit it out. Because apparently, I’m the idiot here.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Sorry for what?” He raked a hand through his hair, the movement jerky. “For agreeing to do it? Do you know what it feels like to be sent on deals like a dog? And when things go wrong, I’m useless. Replaceable.”
Tears blurred my vision until the world became a shapeless mass of light.
He laughed again. “I had a feeling. And here it is—the truth. And yes, one can become an heir as young as ten years old. And you—” his voice faltered, then hardened, “you are just like him.”
I shook my head, choking on a sob. “Don’t say that. I was dragged into this.”
“You came back,” he thundered. “You returned to use him, just like he plans to use me. So congratulations.”
He turned, ready to walk away, but lurched forward when my trembling hand reached for him. “Vincenzo, come on. Fine. What would you have done if you were me?”
“You could’ve told me.” He stepped into my space, his eyes burning straight through me. “How did you even look me in the eye knowing all that? I knew there was something. I expected something, Alessia. But not this.”
His chest rose and fell like a storm. “I never thought I was the scraps. Do you know what would have happened? I would have been eliminated the moment you got pregnant, because he knew I’d realise the child wasn’t mine. And after you gave birth, you’d be eliminated too.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You—” A shadow shifted behind him, and I screamed. “Vincenzo, watch out!”
He turned faster, hand moving to the back of his pants, but the figure raised both hands.
“I come in peace. Is everything okay?”