Chapter 1

My water breaks in a rush of heat and pain, but my Mafia husband is too busy polishing my best friend's shoes.

I grab Dante's arm. "We need to go. Now."

He's already on one knee, brush in hand, working a white heel like it's the most important job in the world.

Bianca stands barefoot in front of the mirror, finger-combing her hair.

"Give me five minutes. I can't show up as Mia's godmother with greasy hair. The photos will be ruined."

The contraction hits me like a truck. I press my hand flat against the wall and breathe through it.

My father is already on his way. He calls ahead on video, his face white.

"The doctor is waiting. You need to leave right now."

I look at Dante. "I'm already dilating. If we don't go now, we could both die in there."

He waves me off without looking up.

"Labor takes hours. You'll just sit there and wait. Stop being dramatic."

Dramatic.

My water broke and he called me dramatic.

I watch him blow on the toe of Bianca's heel, check the shine, go back for another pass.

Something in me just goes quiet.

I pull out my phone. Open a contact I haven't touched in years.

You said you wanted both me and the baby. I've got maybe thirty minutes. Get here and you're her father.

The reply comes back in seconds.

?

Then: Done. On my way.

The shower runs. Dante doesn't rush her. He finds her blow dryer, sets it to warm, lays it on the counter like he's dressing a queen.

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor.

The midwife kneels beside me. Her voice is steady but her eyes are scared.

"Mr. Dante. The amniotic fluid is leaking. The baby can lose oxygen at any point. You have a thirty-minute window. You need to leave now."

My brother's wife steps forward. "She hasn't hit her due date. This is an emergency. Even if Elena can hold on, the baby can't."

Every person in the room is staring at Dante.

He doesn't look up. He's lining up Bianca's skincare bottles on the bathroom shelf.

"She's just washing her hair. It'll be fast."

Then he glances at me. Almost gentle.

"We'll do a C-section if it comes to that. You weren't planning to go natural anyway."

I stare at him.

"Do you understand how dangerous this is right now?"

"Mm."

He turns back toward the bathroom. One syllable. Done with me.

I take a breath and hurl a pillow at his back.

"I said we could both die. I need to leave right now. Did you hear me?"

He turns around and the look on his face isn't fear. It's irritation.

"What is your problem? You've been pregnant for nine months and suddenly the whole world has to stop?"

"She's washing her hair. You're the one who said she could be Mia's godmother. You can't wait ten minutes?"

The blow dryer cuts off. Bianca appears in the doorway, hair half-wet, head tilted.

"Come on. We agreed I'd be Mia's godmother. This is my moment too. Just let me dry off a little. I'll be so fast."

The blow dryer roars back to life.

Dante takes it out of her hands.

"You're too slow. Let me do it."

I watch my husband carefully dry another woman's hair while mine plasters cold and damp against my neck.

During my third trimester I asked him once. Just help me dry my hair. He said he was tired from work.

Another contraction. Harder.

The midwife checks me and goes still.

"The fluid is turning yellow. That means contamination. We leave right now."

She doesn't wait. She walks to the outlet and yanks the plug.

The blow dryer dies.

Bianca spins around.

"Excuse me? Who does this nurse think she is?"

Dante's jaw tightens. "Elena. Don't be difficult. It's just a few more minutes."

He plugs it back in.

I drag myself upright. The hospital calls.

"It's 10:20. Where is the patient? The OR is prepped. You must arrive before eleven. Do not wait."

I reach over and pull the plug myself.

"Eleven o'clock. I will be at that hospital."