Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
For a second, I’m not sure what she’s referring to. But then I remember the pregnancy test, and that she left before I found out the results.
“Well, it was an unexpected answer,” I laugh a little. “But I think that being pregnant has turned out to be a good thing.”
“Oh, congratulations!” she beams, genuinely seeming excited for my news. “I was wondering last night if perhaps that was what you and Mr. Moretti were celebrating. I didn’t say anything to him because I promised you I would keep it a secret.”
“Yes, well, he knows now, and he’s happy about it as well,” I say. “Thank you for all of your help.”
Maria nods and goes back to focusing on her work, and I go back to my daydreaming since she has work to do and I don’t want to distract her or take up more of her time.
Just before she’s finished, there’s a knock at the door. Since Luc isn’t here, I hesitate to open it. Call it an old habit, but a knock at the door still sends a sense of foreboding down my spine. When I lived at Leonardo’s estate, it meant that he had returned. If it wereLuc at the door, he certainly wouldn’t be knocking. But I suppose Leonardo wouldn’t likely be knocking either. While I’m still deliberating whether to answer it, Maria reaches for the doorknob and opens it.
“Someone delivered this downstairs for Ms. Ricci,” the man at the door says as he hands her a small package. “Gabriel asked me to deliver it.”
Maria takes the little box and then closes and locks the door. She pauses for a moment to look at the package as if reading who it’s addressed to. Then she turns and hands it to me.
“It has a seal on the front,” she says. “Looks like a big, ornate letter C.”
Dread fills my stomach. I would recognize that seal anywhere—the “C” stands for Conti. It’s Leonardo’s family seal.
I take the package and stare at it. Someone wrote my name on the front, just below the seal. Whatever he’s sent me is irrelevant—the bigger issue is that he knows exactly where I am in order to have it delivered to me. Luc was right—it was only a matter of time before Leonardo made some sort of move. True to his style, it might be some sort of elaborate bribe, an over-the-top token that mimics generosity only to lure me back to him. But then again, Leonardo knows I wouldn’t fall for such shallow tactics.
“I will give you your privacy,” Maria says as she quickly collects her cleaning supplies to leave.
I don’t actually want to be alone with this box, but it’s not as if having the maid here is going to help me deal with this unwanted “gift”.
Once Maria has walked out, I take the little box to the couch and sit down. Carefully, I open it and find a pretty jeweled necklace sitting inside. At first, it seems like nothing more than what I had initially expected it to be—an unwelcome, shallow bribe to get me to return. As if having more money than Luc was going to tempt me to run back into his arms. I’m surprised that this is the best he could do, especially when he still has my father’s debt to leverage. But then, I see something else.
In the box's corner, peeking out from beneath the red velvet inlay that the necklace is resting against, I see the edge of a white note. When I open it, I instantly recognize Leonardo’s handwriting. It’s rare that he would write anything by hand himself. Usually, he had someone else do it for him while he dictated whatever information he wanted relayed. The only time he ever handwrote anything was when it was a personal threat.
An unborn bastard child, eh? Are you so sure that it’s Luciano’s? Don’t forget about the drunken night that we had together, Valentina. That child could be mine.
—Leonardo
I instantly feel sick to my stomach. Crumpling the note in my hand, I stuff it back into the box. I throw the box into the trash can as if merely holding it in my hand is unbearable.
Leonardo’s threat is just that—a threat, nothing more. I can barely remember the one night he and I were together. My drunkenness caused me to nearly pass out, and it happened only once. I’m convinced he spiked my drink, as I would never have consciously agreed to have sex with him. Another clue is I distinctly remember only having two glasses of wine that night and then suddenly feeling more drunk than I have ever been in my life. I remember he took me to bed in a quick, emotionless act that wound up leaving me with nothing more than regret and a throbbing headache in the morning. But now, after reading that note, I questioned whose baby I may be carrying in my womb. I pull up the calendar on my phone and count back the days. My foggy recollection of that night makes it less than clear when exactly it was that I slept with Leonardo. I suppose it could technically be possible that the baby could be his too, but it’s far less likely. Besides, my gut tells me that the baby is Luc’s and that this is just a sick game Leonardo is playing. The baby has to be Luc’s.