Nine Months Pregnant, I Left the Mafia Heir Who Chose His Mistress Novel – Nine months pregnant, I caught my husband at the Moretti Family clinic with his mistress—his hand on her belly, his eyes full of tenderness he had never once given me. When she warned him I might be upset, Dominic laughed and said, “If Adriana makes a scene, I’ll have the annulment papers drawn up by morning.” So I made my choice. I called my father in Palermo, took my unborn child, and prepared to leave the Moretti empire behind. Dominic thought I was just his unwanted wife.
He had no idea I was Adriana Valente. He had no idea I was sick. And he had no idea that once I walked away, his entire world would burn. Then why did the man who destroyed me appear at my wedding months later, red-eyed and desperate, begging for another chance? — Nine months pregnant, I crossed paths with my husband and his mistress at the private clinic the Family kept on retainer. The moment I collected my prenatal report from the nurse’s station, I saw the two of them through the frosted glass partition, celebrating the impending arrival of their own child. Serafina arranged her face into something resembling concern. “Dominic, you really shouldn’t be here with me. If Adriana finds out, she’ll be upset.
She’s carrying your child too. Aren’t you worried about what that might do to her?” Dominic let out a low, cold laugh. The kind of laugh that could freeze the blood in a dead man’s veins. “If she causes a scene, I’ll have the annulment papers drawn up by morning.” Since Dominic had decided he no longer wanted us, I would rather raise this child fatherless than spend another day trapped inside the gilded cage of this blood-bound union.
I stepped into the corridor, pressed my back against the cold marble wall, and called my father in Palermo. “Papa, I’ve made up my mind. I’m dissolving this marriage. I’m taking the baby and coming home to you.” After I hung up, I booked the earliest charter flight I could find. Two weeks. That was all I needed. Two weeks and I would vanish from Dominic Moretti’s life like smoke through an open window. But then why, months later, did that man appear at my wedding with bloodshot eyes, begging me to take him back? Nine months pregnant, and the moment I received my prenatal report from the attending physician at the Moretti Family’s private medical facility, I saw my husband walking down the opposite corridor, his hand resting on the small of another woman’s back.
He was attending a prenatal appointment with his first love, Serafina Greco. “Dominic, you coming with me to this appointment… if Adriana finds out, she’ll be really upset. She’s due soon too. Aren’t you worried?” Serafina’s voice carried that practiced tremor of concern, soft as poisoned honey. But I caught the smugness in her eyes. The quiet, predatory satisfaction of a woman who knew she had already won. Dominic leaned down and pressed his lips against the curve of her belly with a tenderness I had not seen from him in months. When he straightened, his voice carried the same chilling indifference he reserved for soldiers who had outlived their usefulness. “She doesn’t know about this, and I’m not planning on telling her.
Maybe it’s the hormones, but her mood’s been impossible lately. I don’t need her making things difficult for you.” “But we can’t keep sneaking around like this.” Serafina placed a delicate hand on his chest. “Adriana’s heavily pregnant too. If she finds out, I’m afraid she’ll…” “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Dominic’s jaw tightened. The overhead fluorescent light caught the edge of his profile, all sharp angles and barely restrained authority.
He was the Don of the Moretti Crime Family, one of the most feared syndicates on the Eastern Seaboard, and he spoke about me the way he might speak about a liability on a balance sheet. “It’s my duty to be here with you for this appointment. The child is mine too. If Adriana wants to cause trouble over it, I’ll have the annulment drawn up before the ink dries.” The coldness in his voice when he spoke about me, about the woman carrying his legitimate heir, made something inside my chest crack open and go still.
If Dominic had already decided to cast us aside, then I would beat him to it. I would leave before he could discard me. I would raise this child alone, far from the shadow of the Moretti name. A bitter smile twisted across my lips as my heart, at last, surrendered. I pulled out my phone and dialed the private line to Palermo. The line that connected directly to the study of Don Salvatore Valente, my father. “Papa, I’ve made up my mind. I’m dissolving this marriage. I’ll bring the baby and come home to live with you.” A long pause.
Then my father’s voice came through, low and steady as stone. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses, figlia mia.” The words were measured, but I could hear the iron beneath them. The barely contained fury of a man whose daughter had been humiliated. “The Morettis may run the Eastern Seaboard, but the Valente name