Multiplying Secrets

Multiplying Secrets


By the next morning, the calm of the hospital was disrupted by the arrival of Lucia’s mother, zia Valentina, along with Dante, Lucia's brother.
I had called them late in the night informing them about Lucia's condition. Though I didn't dispose the secret about her pregnancy, that was Lucia's secret to tell.
I stood near the nurses' station when they arrived, all stiff postures and anxious faces. Zia’s eyes were rimmed red from tears, but her voice was steel.
“She’s coming home with us,” Valentina announced, her tone brooking no argument.
“But the doctor,” I started.
“We’ll arrange for a private nurse,” Dante said, stepping forward. “Mother doesn’t want her staying with strangers.”
“She’s not with strangers,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “She came to me because she was scared and alone.”
“And now her family is here,” Dante said pointedly. “Whatever she thought she needed to say or do, she was mistaken.”
The weight of unspoken history between the Bianchis, betrayals, secrets, loyalties pressed heavily on the sterile hospital walls.

Lucia was wheeled out shortly after, pale and silent under a shawl. She didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.
But when she passed me, she gripped my hand briefly and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I squeezed back. “Call me. Anytime.”
Valentina ushered her daughter out swiftly, casting a tight smile at Marco and not sparing me another glance. I guess Tia Valentina was not happy with me. She always thought that I was the bad influence and after us getting caught going to a club, she had been extremely hard on my friendship with her daughter.
When they were gone, the quiet left behind felt heavier than before.

The drive home was silent, the tension between Marco and I simmering just below the surface.
When we entered the grand foyer, the usual warmth of the estate felt distant. Shadows lingered in corners, and the lights above the stairwell flickered faintly as though mimicking my thoughts.
I headed upstairs first, but Marco’s voice followed me.
“Sofia.”
I stopped on the fourth step, fingers curling around the carved wood of the railing.
He waited until I turned around before speaking again.
“Are you going to tell me who the father is?”
I exhaled slowly, holding myself together. “I told you, Lucia didn’t say.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed,.not in suspicion, but something quieter. Calculating. Patient.

He stepped closer. “And you didn’t guess?”
I didn’t blink. “It wasn’t my place to guess.”
A pause stretched between us. Then he changed tack.
“I can help her,” he said simply. “If it’s someone from the city. A man with power and influence. I can make sure he does right by her. Or doesn’t hurt her.”
I swallowed. “I don’t think she wants that.”
His gaze sharpened. “That’s not the same as not needing it.”
“Marco…” I said softly, trying to choose my words carefully. “This isn’t about leverage or debts or favors.”
“You think that’s what I care about?” His voice wasn’t raised, but it was tight.
I stepped down one stair, closer to him. “You don’t even know her situation.”
“I know when a woman shows up on my doorstep crying and collapses in front of my wife, pregnant and terrified, that someone deserves to be held accountable.”
That word, wife, hit me in the chest. A reminder of the chains we still wore.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said at last. “If she wants your help, I’ll tell you.”
Marco didn’t argue.
He only watched me a moment longer, and then with an unreadable expression, he nodded once and turned away.

Later That Night
I sat in Alyssa’s room long after the child had fallen asleep, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.
The weight of the day pressed heavily on my shoulders.
Lucia’s haunted eyes. Poor Lucia must be so scared and confused right now. And Kristoff was to blame for all these. For dragging my cousin into this mess just because he wanted to have his revenge on Marco.
Marco had offered, not just protection, but also a promise to be responsible for the father of the baby acting right.
What would he do when he found out that the father of the baby was his enemy Kristoff and how I knew about this long ago? He would be so pissed, I only hoped he understood why I did what I did.

I knew what he was doing. He was circling around the truth like a hunter, waiting for it to show itself.
He didn’t know it yet, but he was already in the crosshairs.
And if Kristoff ever found out about the baby…
I ran a hand over her face.
Secrets were multiplying like cracks in glass.
Sooner or later, one would shatter.