Page 82 of Of Oaths and Secrets

And before I know it, the words slip out of my mouth, words I hadn’t planned to say here, especially in front of Leo. “I’m pregnant.”

Rafaele freezes, his entire body going still. His grip tightens on my hand, and I can feel the pulse of his shock reverberating through him. His eyes widen, his jaw slack, and for the first time in a long while, he’s completely speechless.

"I’m pregnant," I say again, a little louder this time, my voice steady.

His eyes lock onto mine, and I see the awe, the disbelief, and—slowly—an overwhelming joy starts to settle in. Without a word, he stands, still holding my hand, and gently pulls me to my feet. He leads us out of the dining room, past Leo, who’s watching with an expression somewhere between confusion and amazement.

We step into the hallway, and Rafaele doesn’t stop until we’re alone in the library. He closes the door and turns to face me, his hands trembling slightly as he cups my face.

"Say it again," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion.

I give him a small smile, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I’m pregnant," I say softly.

His breath catches, and before I can say anything more, he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding to my waist, holding me as if he’s afraid I might disappear.

"Again," he breathes, his forehead resting against my stomach, his voice thick with emotion.

"I’m pregnant," I repeat, running my fingers through his hair, my own emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

He presses his face to my stomach, holding me tighter, and for a moment, there’s only us—the weight of the world, the family business, his father—none of it matters. It’s just Rafaele and me and the life growing inside me.

Finally, he looks up at me, his eyes wet, but the joy in them is undeniable. “Amore,” he says softly, reverently. “You’re giving me everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”

I laugh, brushing away my own tears, still running my hand in his hair.

Before I can respond, the door swings open behind us, and Leo strides in. “Father is shitting bul—” His words trail off as his shocked gaze lands on us. He takes in the scene, his eyes widening with amusement. “Well, look at that—Rafaele Lucchese on his knees for a woman.”

Rafaele doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. His attention stays locked on me, his voice steady and filled with quiet pride. “Not just any woman, Leo.Mywife—the mother of my child.”

Leo’s smirk falters, his surprise turning into something more serious as the realization hits. “Holy shit,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “She was serious. You’re having a baby.”

Rafaele rises to his feet, his hand still holding mine, and nods. “We are.”

For a long moment, Leo just stares, clearly processing this new reality. Then, with a low whistle, he shakes his head. “Well… I guess congratulations are in order. Who would’ve thought?”

I glance up at Rafaele, and we exchange a knowing smile. He leans down to kiss my forehead, his voice a soft promise. “This is only the beginning, amore. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”

He gently tugs at my hand. “Let’s go home.”

As we pass Leo, he claps a hand on Rafaele’s shoulder, and Rafaele nods. No words are needed, but the exchange feels like an unspoken truce between them. A moment of brotherly understanding.

We exit, and I decide to keep the risks to myself for now. There will be consequences for Rafaele’s rebellious stand tonight, and he’s so happy—how can I dampen his joy over having an heir? And, if I’m being selfish, I want to remain the warrior woman in his eyes—the one he looks at with awe. So I keep my secret for now, and if I’m completely truthful with myself, I may never want to tell him.

Chapter Twenty

Rafaele

My entire life and purpose within the mafia shifted off its axis the moment I married Nora. It shifted even more when I began to feel for her—something I never expected—and then it shifted again when I realized she felt the same way. But now? Now, she’s not just my wife and lover. She’s carrying our child. A part of us growing inside her. The thought leaves me in awe.

I want to worship her every moment of the day, to take all the burdens I can from her shoulders, but she won’t allow it. She’s a warrior, my woman—strong and resilient—and she faces everything with a quiet determination that both humbles and amazes me. I know, deep down, that she’s a gift from the gods. It takes someone exceptional to care for a man like me, and yet, I have her.

She’s not visibly pregnant yet; it’s only been three months. But I already find myself watching her every move as if I can somehow protect her from all the dangers, both seen and unseen. The mafia world has never felt more threatening than it does now, knowing she and our child are a part of it.

The thing is, I never expected this. Not love. Not a family. Yet here I am, and for the first time in my life, everything feels… fragile. I’ve never had something so precious to lose.

This morning, she steps out of the shower, steam billowing out behind her. The sight of her—wet, radiant, every inch of her glistening in the soft morning light—makes my chest tighten and my cock twitch. Without a word, I grab a towel and gently begin to dry her off, my hands lingering on her curves, tracing the lines of her body as if I’m memorizing every detail.

She raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Don’t you have a meeting today?”

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