Chapter 53 Chapter 53
Lily
After five cozy days in Mauritius, the paradise fades into the noise of New York. The moment we land, Sebastian throws himself back into work. Calls, meetings, heated discussions, endless decisions. The Bratva blew up one of his warehouses, and every day feels like a storm of strategies and retaliation. The godfather shows up often, and their dinners are filled with serious talks, plans, and war whispers. I watch Sebastian leave in the mornings sharp and return late into the night, sometimes covered in blood, sometimes bone-tired, but always carrying the weight of a thousand battles on his shoulders. I’ve grown used to this routine, the danger clinging to him like a shadow.
I try not to disturb him. But today, I need a little escape, a moment away from the chaos. Belladonna drags me to the spa, and for the first time in weeks, I feel my body melt under warm oils, soft music, and the tender press of hands easing away tension. For a few hours, I am not the wife of the most feared man in New York—I’m just a woman breathing, laughing, existing.
Afterward, Bella insists we eat out. We slip into a quiet restaurant, order, and laugh about little things—her teasing me about how Sebastian glares at anyone who so much as looks my way. But when the food arrives, my stomach twists. The sight and smell hit me all at once, and nausea surges through me like a wave. I barely excuse myself before rushing to the washroom. I grip the sink, trembling, as I vomit.
When I return to the table, my mind won’t stop racing. I count the days. My cycle. I missed it. My heart pounds.
I lean close to Bella, whispering, “I think… I might be pregnant.”
Her eyes widen, sparkling. “Oh God! I just wish you are. Lily, this is amazing!” she squeezes my hand, but I can’t share her excitement. My chest feels heavy.
Sebastian has enough on his plate, the Bratva, the godfather, the city always on fire. If I tell him, if this is true, he’ll have to protect not only me but also our baby. I remember his words: You’re my weakness. And the thought of adding another weakness for him to carry terrifies me.
But I need to know. The uncertainty is louder than the fear. On the way home, I ask Bella to stop at a pharmacy. I quickly grab a pregnancy test, hide it in my bag, and we drive back.
At home, I lock myself in the bathroom. The test in my hand feels heavier than a gun. I follow the steps, sit on the toilet, and wait. The seconds crawl like hours, each heartbeat echoing in my ears. My palms sweat, my throat tightens.
Finally, I glance down. Two bars.
Positive.
A rush of emotions crashes through me. I want to scream, to laugh, to cry all at once. My hands shake as I press them over my mouth. I imagine Sebastian’s face when he finds out, the way his eyes would soften, the rare smile he’d give me. I want to call him immediately, to share this moment. But then his voice comes back to me: I have a weakness now. Tears blur my vision. Now he’ll have another weakness—our child. I don’t want to add more danger to his shoulders. Not yet.
I wash my face quickly, hide the test in the drawer beside our bed, and change into a comfortable outfit. My heart still races, but I force myself to move, to distract my mind. I open the fridge and gather ingredients. Tonight, I’ll make arancini and pasta alla Gricia. I let the rhythm of cooking calm me: rolling the arancini balls, dipping them in breadcrumbs, frying until golden and crisp. The pasta simmers gently as the smell of pecorino and guanciale fills the kitchen. The kitchen feels warm, like home, and I cling to that feeling.
Just as I place the dishes on the counter, I hear the front door unlock.
“Hey, early today?” I ask, glancing up from the island.
Sebastian steps inside, still in his dark suit, his tie loosened. His smirk tugs at my lips before he even speaks. “Do you want me to go back?” he teases, leaning casually against the island bar. His presence fills the room—danger and comfort all at once.
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
He watches me for a moment, eyes sharp but warm, before letting them drift toward the dishes. “What did you prepare?”
“Alla Gricia and arancini.”
He inhales deeply, that faint smirk growing into a grin. “Hmm. Italian food. My favorite.”
I place a plate in front of him, watching as he sits down, loosening his jacket and rolling his sleeves. My heart swells, my secret burning inside me. He doesn’t know yet and I don’t know how to tell him.
After dinner, I clear the plates while Sebastian sits back, watching me with that unreadable expression of his. He doesn’t say much, but I can feel his gaze follow my every move. The kitchen is warm and smells faintly of the rich Italian food we just shared.
When I turn to wipe down the counter, I suddenly feel his arms wrap around my waist from behind. His chest presses against my back, and his lips brush the side of my neck.
“You spoil me, mia moglie,” he whispers, his voice low, almost like a growl.
I smile softly, leaning back into him. “You deserve it. You work too much, Sebastian. You need someone to take care of you, too.”
His grip tightens as he turns me around, my back against the counter now. His eyes are darker, intense. “Careful with words like that, Lily. You’ll make me never want to leave home again.”
I laugh, though my heart beats faster. “Would that be such a bad thing?”
He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he kisses me—slow at first, teasing, then deeper, hungrier. His hands slide down my sides, tracing over the fabric of my outfit. My fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer.
We stumble our way toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine. Each kiss grows heavier, each touch bolder. By the time he lays me down on the bed, I’m breathless. He hovers over me, his thumb brushing my bottom lip as he studies me like I’m the only thing that exists.
“You’re mine, Lily,” he murmurs. “Always mine.”
I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Always yours.”
He strips away my shorts along with my panties, his eyes locked on mine as he undoes his pants. In one fluid motion, he slides deep inside me, and I gasp, already wet and ready for him. His pace is fierce, hard and fast, each thrust pulling a moan from my lips.
He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, holding me captive beneath his strength. My body arches, unable to move, completely at his mercy. His mouth crashes against mine, devouring me with a hungry, demanding kiss.
The harder he thrusts, the louder my moans spill into his mouth, the rhythm quickening until I’m trembling beneath him, lost in his dominance, lost in him.
I feel so small beneath him, his body towering over mine, making me feel fragile yet completely his. I reach up and kiss his cheek softly, but the moment is stolen when he thrusts deep inside me. A sharp gasp escapes my lips, and his name slips out in a desperate whimper.
My wrists are still pinned above my head, his grip firm, refusing to let me move. My back arches off the bed as he pounds into me harder, each stroke shaking me, making my fingers clutch at the bedsheets for something to hold on to.
“Sebastian…” I moan, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he takes my cries as fuel, driving into me even deeper. The bed rocks under us, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room, my breath catching with every thrust.
I squirm under him, my legs trembling, my body burning, pleasure building so fast I can’t contain it. My cries grow louder until I break apart, my orgasm crashing over me in waves. My whole body shakes beneath him, but he doesn’t stophis pace remains relentless.
He leans down, kissing my forehead between ragged breaths, his lips tender even as his hips slam against me. “Mine,” he growls softly against my skin, and I shudder at the mix of pain and bliss.
I curse under my breath, unable to bear the sweet torture of him dragging me through wave after wave of pleasure, my body overstimulated yet craving more.
Finally, with one deep thrust, he lets out a groan and releases inside me, filling me completely. His hold on my wrists loosens, and his body collapses against mine for a moment, hot and heavy.
He kisses me softly, nothing like the roughness from before, and then rolls to my side, pulling me into his chest. My body still trembles, but wrapped in his arms, I feel nothing but safe, claimed, and his.