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My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the pregnancy test onto the bathroom floor, because those two pink lines didn’t just mean I was pregnant. They meant I was carrying the child of Alessandro Vitali, the most feared mafia heir in Chicago, and if he discovered the truth, I had no idea whether he would protect me or destroy me. / Chapter 4 / 6

Chapter 4 - Confessions in the Dark

Liam’s expression shifted from worry to stark alertness as he stepped into the cramped bathroom, kneeling down beside me on the linoleum floor. “Em, you’re scaring me. What happened?”

It took every ounce of courage I had, but the words finally spilled out in a rush. I told him about the charity gala at the Obsidian Hotel. I told him about the glittering chandeliers, the champagne tray, and the moment Alessandro Vitali caught my arm. I confessed to going up to Room 1520, to spending the night in the arms of a man who controlled the criminal underworld of Chicago, and finally, to the two pink lines sitting buried at the bottom of the trash can in the other room.

As the full weight of my confession settled over the tiny bathroom, absolute silence descended. Liam stared at me, his eyes wide, processing the sheer magnitude of the danger I had walked into.

“You slept with Alessandro Vitali?” Liam finally breathed, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Em, are you out of your mind? People like that don't just have girlfriends; they have targets on their backs! If he finds out you’re carrying his child—sweetheart, he’ll either lock you away forever or treat you like a liability that needs to be erased!”

“I know!” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands as the tears finally broke free. “I didn't know who he was until it was too late! And today at the diner... one of his enforcers came in. I think they’re looking for me, Liam. I think they know.”

Liam’s face hardened instantly. The panic in his eyes vanished, replaced by a fierce, protective resolve that I hadn't seen since we were kids defending each other on the playground. He grabbed my shoulders gently, forcing me to look him in the eye.

“Listen to me,” Liam said fiercely. “We pack your things tonight. We leave Chicago. We go off the grid—Montana, Oregon, anywhere far away from the Vitali empire where he can never touch you or this baby.”

“We can’t just run, Liam,” I whispered, shaking my head. “You have your job, your life here. And where would we get the money? We live paycheck to paycheck!”

“I don't care about the job or the apartment,” Liam said stubbornly. “My family is you, Em. And I’m not letting some mafia bastard take you away from me.”

Before I could answer, a sharp, violent sound shattered the quiet of the night.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Heavy, rhythmic pounding echoed against our front apartment door, followed by the deep, authoritative voice of a man shouting down the hallway.

“Open up! Chicago Police Department—federal marshals! Open the door immediately!”

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Liam and I froze, locking eyes in sheer terror. It wasn't the police. The police didn't pound on doors at 9:00 PM with that kind of chilling, unyielding authority.

They had found us.

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