Chapter 2 - Secrets and Sanctuary
The ride back to the Vance estate in the back of the armored SUV was utterly silent. Norah sat curled up against the leather seat, a plush cashmere blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Vincent sat beside her, his long fingers gently holding a silk handkerchief filled with crushed ice against the bruises on her neck.
His eyes were fixed on her face, filled with a quiet intensity that always made her heart race. "You should have told me he was looking for you, Norah," he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to the violence he had displayed minutes earlier.
"I didn't think he would find me," Norah whispered, wincing slightly as the ice touched a particularly tender spot. "He's been out of my life for two years. I thought... I thought I was safe."
Vincent’s gray eyes darkened. "As long as you bear my name, and wear that ring, you are the most protected woman in this city. But you must tell me everything. No more hiding."
Norah swallowed hard, her hand instinctively dropping beneath the blanket to rest on her stomach. The weight of her secret felt heavy, burning through her chest. She had married Vincent six months ago—an arrangement born of convenience to protect her late father's failing business from rival syndicates. Over time, the boundaries of their marriage had blurred, leading to a passionate, unforgettable night three weeks ago. And now, she was carrying his child.
But Vincent was a mafia kingpin. His world was violent, unstable, and filled with enemies. Would he want a child? Would a baby just be a target in his world?
"Vincent," she began, her voice trembling. "There's... there's something else you need to know. Something Derek realized before you walked in."
Vincent frowned, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "What is it, mio cuore?"
Norah took a deep breath, looking directly into the eyes of the most dangerous man in New York. "I'm pregnant, Vincent. It's yours."
The SUV seemed to lose all sound. Vincent froze, his hand stopping mid-air. For a long, terrifying moment, his face was entirely unreadable. Norah’s heart hammered against her ribs, fear gripping her throat. Did she make a mistake?
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Then, slowly, the tension in Vincent’s broad shoulders broke. His gaze dropped to her stomach, his expression shifting into something Norah had never seen before—a profound, raw reverence. He dropped the ice pack, placed his large, warm hand gently over hers, and leaned his forehead against hers.
"A child," he breathed, a fierce, possessive smile touching his lips. "We are going to have a child. I swear to you, Norah, anyone who even looks at you or our baby the wrong way will burn."
