The Don’s Soulmate

45. Carlotta

Chapter 45

Carlotta

Sofia stares at me through the rear-view mirror, and I sit there, frozen, still clutching my heart. "Are you okay?" Ettore asks again, staring at me with worried eyes, his hands on mine.

I want to say I’m fine, but my mind is elsewhere. I push aside his hand and ignoring Ettore's question, rummage through the bag in the backseat, pulling out a box of tampons. As I stare at it, turning it over again and again in my hands, my brain works on overdrive.

My heart begins to pound against my ribcage. If it could, it would break my bones.

Four months. Four months since my last period.

How did I not notice?

My hands tremble and I drop the box of tampons. Ettore’s eyes narrow. In the rear-view mirror, I see Sofia pale.

I swallow hard, heart pounding. How can I tell him this? That his seed could have taken root inside me? Of course… it could just be the stress that’s thrown my cycle in disarray.

But what if it’s not the stress?

We're already in enough danger. A child will only complicate things and paint an even larger target on our backs.

"Carlotta?" Sofia asks now, her voice laced with concern.

I take a deep breath and force the words out. "I'm late. By four months."

Ettore curses under his breath. Sofia gasps, hands flying to cover her mouth.

Silence fills the space between us, heavy with uncertainty.

After a long moment, Ettore speaks, voice tight. "You're sure?"

I nod, a sob catching in my throat.

“Fuck,” Sofia says, and the next thing I hear, the door is slamming close behind her. She’s rushing back into the store, running, in fact.

"Carlotta," Ettore says, his voice barely above a whisper as he reaches out to take my hand in his own. "Are you saying...?"

“Yes,” I choke out, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I think I might be pregnant."

First, he frowns, and then, the fear is replaced by something resembling joy as he breaks into the smallest smile, processing the news. He reaches over and takes my trembling hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "We'll handle this, Carlotta," he promises, his voice low and steady. "Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together."

I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. He's right; we have faced danger countless times, and somehow, we always manage to emerge stronger. But this... This pregnancy could change everything. It’s one thing putting our own lives in danger…but a baby’s?

Sofia returns triumphantly, clutching three pregnancy tests in her hand. She climbs back into the car, her breath heavy from the sprint. "Here," she says, handing them to me. We need to know for sure."

"Thank you, Sofia," I whisper, touched by her fierce dedication.

She puts the car into drive, tires screeching as we continue to her grandmother’s cottage. I grip the tests tightly in my hands, not knowing how to feel. I reach down, place my hand on my stomach, and suddenly, a strange, reverent longing takes place deep in me. I can almost…feel it: a mini-him, a tiny me. The future has never felt so uncertain, yet I can't help but feel a flicker of hope at the thought of carrying Ettore's child.

Still, uncertainty claws at my insides. I’ve only just escaped Ugo’s grasp and found my way back to Ettore. A child will complicate things, binding us together in new ways, for better or for worse.

True. Ettore and I have always moved fast, our connection too intense and all-consuming to resist. Perhaps a child is simply the next step on our journey, further cementing what we already know to be true—that we belong to each other, now and forever; we were carved from one another by the gods themselves.

I glance at Ettore's profile, his jaw set in a grim line. What is he thinking at this moment? Does the thought of a child frighten or excite him?

His fingers tighten on my thigh as if sensing the drift of my thoughts. When he turns to me, his eyes are filled with warmth and longing. "Whatever comes, we face it together."

Those simple words ease the anxiety twisting my insides. I place my hand over his, intertwining our fingers.

The cottage comes into view, a quaint stone house nestled between cypress trees, moonlight dappling its weathered walls. Sofia's grandmother's cottage looks like something from a fairy tale, and I half expect woodland creatures to greet us as we pull up. But I’m unable to concentrate on its beauty, my hands clutching the tests like my life depends on them.

"Here we are," Sofia announces, pulling up the gravel drive. She hops out and rushes to get the bags. By the time Ettore helps me from the car, she has already hauled in a handful of bags and opened the door to the cottage.

"The bathroom is down the hall on the left," she says breathlessly, returning to get more bags and help Ettore with our luggage. "I'll bring in the rest of your things."

I don't wait for further prompting, nearly running through the cottage in my haste to find the bathroom. The pregnancy tests feel heavy in my hands, laden with the power to change everything. My mind races with thoughts of what-ifs and how-tos, leaving me feeling both hopeful and uncertain.

The tests sit in their bright packaging, mocking me from the sink counter where I’ve laid them out while I think. What’s the point in waiting? Whether I want to or not, the answers have to come. With trembling fingers, I tear them open, instructions blurring before my eyes as I struggle to focus.

Finally, I get one open, dipping the end in a cup of urine. The seconds tick by with agonizing slowness, each moment fraying my nerves further. As I wait for the results, my heart pounds against my chest like a caged bird desperate to be free.

"Carlotta?" Ettore's voice is muffled through the bathroom door. "Are you alright in there?"

"I'm fine," I call back, trying to sound more composed than I feel. "Just... give me a minute, okay?"

"Take all the time you need," he replies, his concern evident even through the wooden barrier between us.

I turn back to the counter, staring at the little sticks that will determine our fate. My heart pounds wildly, hope and fear twisting into a tangled knot inside me.

The deafening silence in the bathroom amplifies every breath I take, each exhale echoing off the cold tile walls. "Carlotta?" Ettore's voice penetrates the silence, sounding impatient and eager. "Do you have the results?"

I hesitate, turning to the tests. "Just a second," I manage to whisper, my throat dry and constricted.

“Sure,” he says, resigned to waiting outside.

"Thank you," I breathe out, grateful for his presence but needing to be alone for this moment.

As the seconds tick by like hours, I force my gaze back to the tests on the counter. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, the rhythm erratic and frenzied. With one final deep breath, I summon the courage to look at the results.

This is it. The moment of truth.

I take a deep breath and look down at the tests.

Two pink lines stare back at me. Positive.

My breath catches in my throat as the truth sinks in. I'm pregnant.