Chapter 165 – Should We Name It Cannoli

Chapter 165 – Should We Name It Cannoli
Katarina’s POV

“Five a.m. and I’m still awake,” I muttered, staring at the ceiling.
The room was quiet, but my brain wouldn’t shut up. Every sound—the hum of the AC, the faint ticking of the clock—felt loud.
I turned on my side and pressed a hand against my stomach. It was still flat, but I knew what was inside now.
“I’m gonna be a mom,” I whispered. Saying it out loud made it real. Too real.

My phone glowed on the nightstand. I hesitated for a second, then grabbed it and called Selena.
It rang four times before her groggy voice came through.
“If someone’s dead, I’m hanging up.”

“No one’s dead,” I said. “Promise.”

“Then why the hell are you calling me before sunrise?”

I bit my lip. “Because I just confirmed it. I’m pregnant.”

That woke her up. “What?” she gasped. “Kat! You’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy crap.” I heard sheets rustle. “You’re gonna be a mom.”

“Don’t say it like that,” I groaned. “It sounds like a threat.”

Selena laughed softly. “You’ll be good at it. You’re bossy enough.”

“I don’t even know how to be a mom,” I said. “Half the time I forget to eat unless someone throws food at me.”

“That’s why the universe gave you me,” she teased. “I’ll train you.”

I smiled, feeling lighter already. “You sound too happy for someone who hasn’t brushed her teeth yet.”

“Please, I’ve been waiting for this news since you two started pretending not to love each other.”

I rolled my eyes. “We weren’t pretending.”

“You were,” she said flatly. “So how did the twins take it?”

“Better than I thought,” I said. “Valentino smiled. Vittorio was shocked. Typical.”

Selena laughed again. “One dramatic, one dead inside. At least they balance each other.”

I sighed. “Yeah… they’re trying. I think they’re actually scared.”

“They should be,” she said. “Have you seen how mean pregnant women get?”

“Stop,” I said, laughing. “It’s too early for your mouth.”

There was a pause, softer this time. Then Selena’s tone changed. “You okay, really?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m happy, but… I’m scared too. What if I screw this up?”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said firmly. “You’ll be a better mom than yours ever was.”

I went quiet. The mention of my mother hit somewhere deep. “She tried,” I said quietly. “She just didn’t know how to love right.”

Selena’s voice softened. “You still miss her.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Even knowing she wasn’t my real mom… I still do. I want to see her again. When things settle, I’ll ask the twins to bring her here. Maybe then she’ll see I’m okay.”

“You’re more than okay,” Selena said. “You’re alive. You’re building something new.”

For a moment, neither of us talked. The silence was warm, not heavy.

Then she broke it with a laugh. “So… is it a boy or girl?”

I smiled. “I don’t know yet. But if it’s a girl, I’ll name her after you.”

“Don’t you dare,” she said quickly. “Let that poor baby have peace.”

We both laughed.

“What about names?” she asked. “Got any ideas?”

“Not really,” I said. “Vittorio wants something strong. Valentino keeps suggesting Italian desserts.”

Selena snorted. “Typical. He’d probably name the kid Cannoli.”

“That’s what I said!” I was laughing now, really laughing. “You know what he told me? That at least it’d be sweet.”

“God, you’re surrounded by clowns,” she said.

“I know. I love them anyway.”

“Love changes everything,” Selena said softly.

“I hope so,” I said. “Because I feel like everything’s changing already.”

There was another small silence.

Then she said, “You’re gonna be fine, Kat. You’re strong. You’ve already survived the worst. This—this part is just life.”

“I hope so,” I whispered.

“You’ll see,” she said. “And I can’t wait to meet my little niece or nephew. Aunt Selena has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah, it does,” I said.

She yawned. “Alright, Mama Fox, go eat something before you faint.”

“I already eat every five minutes,” I said. “I’m turning into a fridge.”

“Then feed the fridge, woman,” she said, half-asleep now. “Text me later, okay?”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mama.”

The call ended. The room was quiet again. But this time, it wasn’t heavy—it was full.

My stomach growled. “Alright,” I muttered. “Fine, fine. You win.”

The hallway was dark and cool as I stepped out. I didn’t bother turning on lights. Everyone else was asleep.
The kitchen smelled faintly of coffee and bread from last night. I grabbed an apple, bit into it, then went straight for the fridge.
Cold air hit my face. Heaven.

“Let’s see,” I whispered, rummaging. “Fruit, cheese, something salty… everything sounds good.”

I took out leftover lasagna and ate it cold with a fork. “Don’t judge me,” I said to my stomach.

Halfway through, I started talking to the baby like an idiot. “You’re not even the size of a bean, and you already boss me around.”

I laughed quietly. It felt… normal.

Then I heard it—footsteps. Slow. Careful.

I froze, fork mid-air.

Maybe one of the maids? Or Vittorio checking patrol?
Another step. Heavier this time.

I set the fork down. “Ombra?” I called softly. No answer.

I grabbed the apple again, pretending I was just eating if someone showed up, and peeked into the hallway.

Empty.

But I heard movement—closer to the west wing.

Curiosity won. I started following, barefoot, quiet.

The closer I got, the clearer the sound became. A door creaking. Metal clicking.

Then I saw her.

Fiorella.

She was at the war-room door, holding a key, glancing over her shoulder. My stomach dropped.

“What the hell…” I whispered.

She slipped inside. I followed.

The room was half-dark, just enough moonlight coming through the window. I saw her kneeling by the wall, pulling open a safe.

“Fiorella?”

She jumped.

Her head turned slow, her face caught in the silver light. Her eyes looked wild, not like the woman I’d seen around the house these past days.

“Katarina,” she said stiffly. “You scared me.”

I stepped closer. “What are you doing?”

She stood, blocking the open safe. “Nothing.”

“Really?” I nodded toward her hand. “Because it looks like something.”

She looked down. The rolled canvas slipped from her grip.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Just a document,” she said too fast.

“Then why sneak in here before dawn?”

Her jaw tightened. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you,” I said. “

“Go back to bed,” she said quietly.

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t push me, Katarina.Move out of my way.”

“Who are you?”

“Last warning,” she hissed.

“Answer me.”

She lunged.

The statue came down fast—I barely saw it.

Pain exploded at the side of my head. My knees buckled. The room spun.

I saw her face once more—cold, shaking, eyes full of panic.

Then everything went black.