I’m doing more cleaning of rooms, although they clearly don’t need it, when I pass the office. The door is slightly ajar, and the three brothers are in there. And they’re having an angry conversation.

Putting my head down, I hurry past—whatever’s going on, it’s none of my business. And I’d rather not know the details of their business dealings.

“Mrs. Giordano came over today and told me that her Felicity is pregnant!” Marco yells. “She’s absolutely furious. What the fuck, Camillo? How could you let this happen?”

I freeze. Ice crawls through my veins as the words register… Furious. Pregnant. Camillo.

“And what the fuck were you doing, Alessio? You should have been keeping an eye on him, making sure something like this didn’t fucking happen.”

“I’m not his babysitter,” Alessio drawls. “How far along is the pregnancy?”

My feet move unconsciously. I peek through the crack in the door.

“She says eight weeks.”

My breath stutters in my throat. Dear God. Camillo and I have been sleeping together for longer than eight weeks…

“Look, give it some time.” Camillo shrugs. “She’ll get over it.”

Jesus, he’s been sleeping with someone else at the same time as I’ve been sharing his bed…

“Get over it? Are you kidding me, Camillo? She’s already demanding child support. And the scan says it’s fucking triplets!”

Bile burns the back of my throat. Triplets? She must have gone for an early ultrasound. I know from one of my cousins that her doctor identified her twins at a six-week scan…

I know Camillo would have been with other women before me. But I can’t believe that he would sleep with other women while we were actually together.

Does he see me as just a fling? One of several women that he has on the go at once? Because we’ve never really talked about our status. But it’s just that I thought I was more to him than a casual thing—I thought that he felt the same way about me as I feel about him…

I close my eyes and try to inhale through my nose. It’s like I’m drowning in everything that’s happening—his betrayal, the lies, the future that I thought we were building together. And it’s like a whole house of cards is collapsing around me.

How could I have been so stupid? Tears roll down my cheeks. Humiliation and incomprehension consume me. I should have known that what I have with Camillo was all too good to be true. I should have known that he wouldn’t be serious about someone like me—didn’t Grayden tell me all along that there was something wrong with me? That I was lucky that he had even agreed to marry me because no other man wanted me?

I peek through the crack of the door.

“She’ll be demanding child support for God knows how many years,” Marco grits out.

“At the end of the day, it’s just money,” Camillo replies, not looking or sounding the slightest bit sorry. “There’s no point stressing about it…”

But I can’t listen to any more of this. I just can’t.

I dash down the hall to my old bedroom.

And shutting myself inside, I sink onto the bed, putting my head into my shaking hands.

My heart is racing out of control in my chest, beating so loud that I think I can hear it. I feel like I can’t breathe, like the air is actually suffocating me.

The words I heard keep echoing in my mind, replaying over and over until they blur together into one confusing, painful mess.

***

I know that Ethan and I can’t stay here any longer, but I can’t get myself moving to start packing and thinking about where we’re going to go now. Back to Kori’s maybe?

I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear the door handle turn. I quickly wipe my tears, not wanting Ethan to see me upset

But it’s not Ethan.

It’s him.

“I was looking for you.” His smile falters when he catches sight of my face. “Hey, what’s going on?”

I turn toward the bathroom, needing to get away from him, but he catches my arm and turns me toward him.

“Rosa?”

I try to swallow the knot in my throat. “I heard it all,” I croak.

“What?”

“I heard everything you and your brothers said in the office.”

“You did? Look, um, it was an accident…”

“An accident?” I choke out a bitter laugh, though nothing about this is remotely funny. It’s absurd, ridiculous. How can someone be with one woman, but at the same time fall into another woman’s arms and accidentally create life? Triplets, no less.

Triplets.

The thought twists in my stomach like a knife. I feel sick. Nausea churns inside me. I thought I knew him. I thought we were solid, that our relationship was something real, something worth holding onto.

His brow crinkles as he looks at me, and he’s silent for several, long seconds. “What exactly did you hear?” he asks.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. The door was ajar—Marco was yelling, and it was impossible not to hear it. Please don’t pretend. I know that you’ve been seeing someone else.” My voice cracks. “And I know that she’s pregnant now.”

“You think I got someone pregnant? But I haven’t—”

“You’ve gotten Felicity pregnant!” I practically yell. “With triplets. Please don’t lie to me. I thought I meant something to you! But now I know you’ve been seeing someone else…” To my mortification, I can hear the sob in my voice.

I pull away from him and sink down onto the bed once more as the strength ebbs from my knees.

He kneels in front of me, cupping my face in his hands. “Rosa, I don’t know what you think you heard. But let me explain.”

“There’s nothing you can say—”

“Mrs. Giordano came over today because she’s found out that Felicity, her dog, is pregnant by Mr. Fluffy.”

I blink once. Twice. Three times. “W-what?” I stutter.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

He nods. “Alessio and I had lunch at their home a couple of months ago as we had some business to talk over with Amadeo Giordano. And I had Mr. F with me because I was supposed to take him to the vet afterward.”

“But it sounded like… Marco said she was furious…”

“Felicity is Mrs. Giordano’s pride and joy. I think she loves the dog more than she loves her own children. You see, Mrs. Giordano breeds dogs, and she thinks we’ve ruined her plans for Felicity to have purebred puppies with her next litter.”

“You mean…?”

Camillo starts chuckling. “Yeah. And Marco’s blaming me because he reckons that I should have been keeping an eye on Mr. F.”

I can only stare openmouthed at Camillo whose chuckle has turned into a full belly laugh. And I find my own lips tugging up into a grin, and soon, I’m clutching my stomach as my laughter hurts my sides.

As our laughter finally subsides, I let Camillo take me in his arms and kiss me. And I let him comfort me.

And although I believe his explanation and can see how I completely misconstrued the situation, I still have the foreboding that something bad is going to happen between us. It’s almost like a premonition…