Chapter 3
Luca stayed with me over the next few days.
On the day of the funeral, I fainted as I knelt.
When I woke up, the doctor handed me my test results.
“You’re seven weeks pregnant.”
For a long time, I could only stare.
Luca rushed over as soon as he heard.
His eyes went glassy when he saw the ultrasound picture. He wrapped his arms around me and wouldn’t let go.
“We’re having a baby. I’m going to be a father.”
Once, this would have made me overjoyed.
Now it all felt absurd.
I wanted to ask him why he was so excited.
Hadn’t he already become a father?
A nurse slid a form across the counter.
"Who should I put down as the father?"
Luca went still for a moment.
Then he took the form and wrote his own name in the space marked “Father.”
The nurse glanced at it.
“If you aren’t married, he’ll need to sign an acknowledgment of paternity for the birth certificate.”
“It’s straightforward. Just bring it with you when the time comes.”
I looked at him and felt nothing.
“Then should we go to the city clerk’s office today?”
His smile slowly faded.
“Vivi, your mom just died.”
“This isn’t the right time to get married.”
I smiled and said nothing.
The next day, pictures of Luca and me outside the clinic were splashed across the tabloids.
FALCONE HEIR SPOTTED AT PRENATAL CLINIC — WITH MYSTERY WOMAN
The story included a copy of a Swiss marriage record.
The bride’s name was blacked out.
Luca Falcone’s was perfectly clear.
People in the comments quickly discovered that I had been with him for five years without marrying him.
And just like that, I became the homewrecker who had knowingly pursued a married man for five years, hoping to take his wife’s place.
Reporters crowded the entrance to my office.
The moment I got out of the car, someone threw a cup of coffee in my face.
“Homewrecker!”
“The Falcone family’s Donna just had a baby, and now you’re pregnant?”
“How do you have the nerve to show your face?”
Insults came at me from every direction.
Amid the torrent of abuse, I fled inside as if I were the one with something to hide.
That same afternoon, the family was thrown into an uproar.
Three allied families called.
Invitations to several society dinners quietly disappeared.
A Barone daughter in the tabloids was far more serious than an ordinary sex scandal.
I called my father.
“Dad, release a statement. Luca and I got engaged five years ago. I’m not a homewrecker.”
He was silent for a long time.
“Vivi, don’t make this worse.”
Even though I already knew the truth—knew they were all covering for Elena—my voice still trembled.
“So you’re going to let everyone call me a homewrecker? Dad, the people out there practically want me dead.”
Matteo took the phone.
“The internet will forget in a few days. You’re pregnant. Don’t put yourself through this.”
Nico chimed in beside him.
“And don’t start a fight with Luca. I’m sure he had his reasons.”
I printed the Swiss marriage record and went straight home.
When I walked in, my father’s expression changed.
He immediately turned his phone facedown.
“Vivi? What are you doing here?”
I stared at him.
“I thought I just heard Mom’s voice.”
The living room went deathly quiet.
My father paused for only two seconds before his eyes filled with tears.
“You must have misheard. I was watching an old video of your mother.”
Matteo and Nico came out of another room.
One took the phone.
The other put an arm around me.
“You’ve been exhausted lately.”
“Didn’t the doctor tell you? It’s easy to overthink things when you’re pregnant.”
The three of them worked together without missing a beat.
My throat tightened.
Suddenly, I didn’t even have the strength to expose them.
My father kept explaining.
“About that Swiss marriage certificate—Elena was upset, and Luca had a few drinks with her. They both drank too much. It was an accident.”
Matteo picked up where he left off, his tone patient, as though he were trying to reason with me.
“Then Elena got pregnant. There was a lot of paperwork to deal with in Switzerland. They only got married for the baby.”
Nico frowned at me.
“It’s a piece of paper. Does it really matter more than the five years you and Luca have spent together?”
I laughed.
They had slept together, made a baby, and gotten married in Switzerland.
All accidents.
But I was simply expected to wait five years.
I looked at Luca.
“Is that how you see it, too?”
He came toward me, exhaustion written across his face.
“Vivi.”
“I was going to divorce Elena once she recovered.”
“But she just gave birth. Her doctor said she can’t handle any emotional distress right now.”
I met his eyes.
“But I can. I can take being ripped to shreds by every stranger online.”
His brow furrowed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
A mocking smile tugged at my lips.
“Then when exactly are you going to explain that I’m not a homewrecker?”
Silence settled over the room.
Several seconds passed before Matteo finally spoke.
“If we release the timeline now, people will figure out it’s Elena.”
“She just had a baby.”
My father's voice thickened.
“Vivi.”
“Elena has no mother or father. She finally has this baby.”
“You have all of us who love you.”
Matteo looked at me.
“I’m begging you. Can’t you give her this one thing?”
My wedding. My fiancé. The name I had wanted for my child. My house.
I had already given her all of it.
Now they wanted my reputation and dignity, too.
Luca reached for me and pulled me into his arms.
“Just put up with it for a few days.”
“Once this blows over, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
I breathed in his familiar cedar scent and suddenly had no strength left.
In five years, their answer had never changed.
But it didn’t matter anymore.