The pregnancy changed everything.
Eric became fiercely protective, hardly letting me out of his sight. He installed additional security, vetted every person who came near me, and personally tasted my food before I ate it.
"You're being ridiculous," I told him as he tested my breakfast for the third morning in a row.
"I'm being prudent. You're carrying my child. That makes you a target for every enemy I have."
He wasn't wrong. Isabel had gone underground after the kidnapping attempt, but we knew she was still plotting. The Volkovs were licking their wounds but would strike again. And now the elders were circling like sharks, sensing blood in the water.
"The elders want to meet with you," Eric said one evening, his expression troubled. "Alone."
"Absolutely not."
"Seraphina"
"No. I won't let you face them alone. And I won't let them intimidate me. If they want to meet, we meet together. As a united front."
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "You're right. It's time they saw you as I do."
The meeting was held in the estate's great hall, a cavernous room lined with portraits of Moretti ancestors. The five eldest dons sat at a long table, their faces carved from stone. I recognized a few from the wedding; they'd been among the guests, watching Eric carry me out.
"Eric." The eldest don, a man named Marcello, spoke first. "You know why we're here. This woman cannot be your wife. The family requires an alliance with another mafia bloodline. It's tradition. It's survival."
"The family requires strong leadership and smart strategy," Eric replied, his voice calm. "Seraphina has given me both. She's helped me outmaneuver Volkov, restructure our legitimate holdings, and see possibilities I was blind to."
"Sentiment," another don spat. "You're letting emotion cloud your judgment."
I stepped forward, my heart pounding but my voice steady. "With respect, Don Marcello, I'm not here to replace your traditions. I'm here to strengthen them."
Marcello's eyes narrowed. "And how, exactly, can an outsider strengthen our family?"
"I'm carrying Eric's child." The words hung in the air. "Your family's heir. Does tradition value bloodlines? Because this child will have Moretti blood. And Rossi blood, which, if you recall, built half the legitimate businesses in this city. My father's connections, my family's name, my business acumen, these aren't weaknesses. They're assets you'd be foolish to discard."
Silence stretched. The elders exchanged glances.
"You're pregnant?" Marcello finally asked.
"Nearly nine weeks. Due in spring." I placed my hand on my stomach. "I'm not asking you to accept me as an equal. I'm asking you to accept me as the mother of your future don. Because whether you like it or not, that's what I am."
More silence. Then, slowly, Marcello nodded. "The child changes things. An heir secures the bloodline." He looked at Eric. "But we still have concerns. The Volkov situation. Isabel's claims. The instability your relationship has caused."
"Then let me prove myself," I said. "Give me a chance to help resolve the Volkov threat. If I succeed, you accept my place here. If I fail," I swallowed hard. "If I fail, I'll leave. No argument."
"SERAPHINA!" Eric's roar echoed off the walls. "You will not."
"Trust me." I met his eyes, willing him to understand. "I know what I'm doing."
The elders agreed. I had one month to help broker a peace with Volkov, or eliminate the threat entirely. If I succeeded, I would be accepted into the family. If I failed, I would leave, and Eric would marry within the mafia.
That night, Eric and I fought for the first time since the kidnapping.
"How could you make that deal?!" He paced the bedroom, his hands fisted at his sides. "You're carrying my child! You can't just offer to leave like that!"
"I won't fail." I stood my ground. "Eric, I know Volkov. I've studied him, I've watched you study him. He's greedy, impatient, and desperate. Those are weaknesses we can exploit."
"I don't care about exploiting weaknesses! I care about keeping you safe!"
"Then help me. Trust me. Believe in me the way I believe in you."
He stopped pacing, his amber eyes searching mine. Slowly, the anger faded. "You're the most infuriating woman I've ever met."
"I love you too."
He pulled me into his arms, his kiss fierce with emotion. "If anything happens to you."
"Nothing will. We're going to do this together. Like everything else."
Our lovemaking that night was urgent, desperate, a reaffirmation of our bond. He was gentler than usual, mindful of the baby, but no less passionate. When we finally lay tangled together, his hand rested on my stomach, and I felt complete.
"Together," he whispered. "Always."