Matteo

I cannot fucking believe she’s pregnant.

She grabbed that ultrasound picture like it was classified intel and bolted out of here faster than a witness entering protection. But I saw it. Twelve weeks. My child. My heir. My fucking legacy growing inside her while she’s planning to divorce me.

The rage hits like a freight train made of pure possessiveness.

That’s my baby. Mine. And she thinks she can just walk away with it like I’m some sperm donor she can discard when she’s done with me.

“Matteo, calm down.” Bianca’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. “You’re hyperventilating.”

“She’s pregnant, Bianca. Pregnant with my child, and she wants to divorce me.”

“I saw.”

“She can’t do this. She can’t take my heir and just… disappear into her new life like I don’t exist.”

“You’re spiraling.”

“I’m calculating.” My mind’s already working, already planning. “She thinks she holds all the cards now. The Dorian name, the inheritance, the pregnancy. But she’s forgetting something crucial.”

“What?”

“I’m still her husband. And that baby is still mine.”

“Matteo—”

“What’s all the commotion?”

Don Castellano appears in the hallway like a shark smelling blood in the water. He’s got that particular expression he wears when he senses weakness, opportunity, or both.

And here’s the beautiful, twisted irony of it all—Don Castellano isn’t just some random ally. He’s Serafina’s fucking uncle. Maria’s younger brother who never got over losing his sister to Antonio Dorian. Who’s been carrying that grudge for twenty-three years like a tumor eating him from inside.

“Nothing, Don Castellano,” Bianca tries to deflect. “Just a family disagreement.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.” His eyes narrow on me. “You look like someone just stole your favorite toy.”

“My wife wants a divorce.” The words taste like poison. “And she’s pregnant with my child.”

Castellano’s entire demeanor shifts. The casual interest becomes laser-focused attention. “Pregnant? Maria’s daughter is pregnant?”

The way he says it—like she’s still his property to discuss—makes my skin crawl and my strategic brain light up simultaneously.

“She thinks she can just take my heir and disappear into her Dorian fairy tale.”

“And you’re going to let her?”

The question hits like a slap. “What do you mean?”

“I mean maybe it’s time you show her who’s the boss.”

Here it is. The opening I didn’t know I was looking for.

“You think I should fight the divorce?”

“I think you should remind your wife that family comes first. Always.” His voice goes cold. “Maria forgot that lesson. Chose a stranger over her own blood. Look how that ended.”

My brain starts connecting dots at light speed. “She doesn’t know, does she? That you’re her uncle.”

“Antonio made sure of that. Told her we were just another enemy family. Never mentioned that her mother had a brother who loved her more than life itself.”

“And now?”

“Now her daughter is making the same mistakes. Choosing independence over family. Pride over blood.” His smile could cut glass. “But unlike Maria, she’s going to learn.”

The pieces fall into place. Beautiful, terrible pieces.

“You could help me get her back.”

“I could help my niece understand her obligations. To her husband. To her family. To the child she’s carrying.”

“She’s not going to come willingly.”

“She doesn’t have to come willingly. Family reunions rarely do.”

Bianca steps back. “This is insane. You can’t just… she’s your niece.”

“Exactly.” Castellano’s voice is silk over steel. “Which means I have every right to intervene when she’s making destructive choices. Blood calls to blood.”

“She’s carrying my child.”

“She’s carrying a Castellano-Verrelli heir. My great-nephew or niece.” He leans closer. “Do you really think I’m going to let her run off and raise my blood in some other family’s shadow?”

The logic is twisted but perfect. Serafina thinks she can use the Dorian name to shield herself from consequences? Think her father’s empire makes her untouchable?

She’s about to learn that blood runs deeper than marriage contracts. And her own uncle has been waiting twenty-three years for this conversation.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Leave that to me. It’s time Serafina learned about the family she never knew she had.”

“Don’t hurt her.”

“Hurt her?” Castellano looks genuinely offended. “I’m going to welcome her home. Maria’s daughter belongs with Maria’s family.”

“And if she still refuses?”

His smile could freeze hell. “Then we’ll discuss what’s best for the baby. Family takes care of family, after all.”