My Fiancé Betrayed The Wrong Mafia Heiress Chapter 02
The Man Who Calls Me Serafina
I hang up on my mother and call Vanessa.
She answers on the third ring.
Before I can say a word, she speaks.
“Serena, I’m sorry. But just for tonight, let Ethan be mine.”
Then she ends the call.
I close my eyes and let the tears slide down my face.
Another lifetime. Another version of us. A different ending.
None of it matters anymore.
If Ethan, Vanessa, and my entire family want me gone, I will give them exactly what they want.
One week ago, I thought I was the happiest woman alive.
I have been nauseous for days. I could barely stay awake in the afternoon, and even the smell of my favorite coffee made my stomach turn. When my period was almost two weeks late, I finally told my mother.
For once, she seemed genuinely concerned.
She canceled a charity luncheon and took me to a Vale-owned concierge clinic that afternoon. The clinic serves our family and a small circle of wealthy clients. Everyone there was so attentive that I never thought to question anything.
A nurse drew my blood.
Less than an hour later, the doctor handed me a report.
“Congratulations, Miss Vale,” he said with a warm smile. “You’re about six weeks pregnant.”
I stared at the page until the words blurred.
My mother reached across the desk and squeezed my hand. Only then did I look down at my still-flat stomach.
There was a baby inside me.
Ethan’s baby.
Ours.
I wanted to call him immediately. But he had been busy with work and the wedding, and we had barely seen each other for days. The Future Call challenge felt like the perfect chance to surprise him.
I imagined the silence in the line when I told him.
Then he would laugh.
Then he would rush home and pull me into his arms.
Instead, he already knew.
So did Vanessa.
So did my parents.
The pregnancy I had treated like a miracle was nothing more than another way to keep me trapped in a marriage built on lies.
My phone vibrates in my hand.
A message from an unknown number appears on the screen.
Now that you’ve heard the truth for yourself, are you ready to leave?
I stare at it.
Whoever sent this knew about the call.
Maybe they knew even more.
My fingers hover over the screen before I type a reply.
Downstairs café. Now.
The café on the ground floor is almost empty at this hour. Soft jazz plays through the speakers while the barista wipes glasses behind the counter.
A man in a black coat sits alone beside the rear window.
The moment he sees me, he stands.
He stares at me like he’s been waiting for this moment for years.
“Serafina.”
His expression changes, but I can’t read it.
The name hits me like a blow.
The café disappears.
Cold stone beneath my bare feet.
A damp underground training room.
Hot blood spraying across my face as an instructor falls.
Then darkness.
A hand closes tightly around mine and pulls me forward. Rusted wire slices into the stranger’s palm, cutting so deep I can see bone.
The images vanish as quickly as they came.
Pain explodes behind my eyes. I grab the back of a chair to keep myself upright.
“Don’t call me that.”
The man’s jaw tightens.
Guilt flashes in his eyes, but he quickly hides it and lowers his head slightly.
“As you wish.”
His voice is calm and controlled, but he never looks away from me.
“Luca?”
The name leaves my mouth before I can think.
For a second, neither of us moves.
Then he answers, “Yes.”
I walk to his table.
Two medical reports and a tablet are waiting there.
Luca slides the first report toward me.
The Vale clinic’s name is printed at the top.
My name is printed at the top.
Serena Vale.
Below it, one result is marked in bold.
Serum hCG: 38,420 mIU/mL.
Estimated gestational age: six weeks.
It is the same report the doctor handed me last week.
The same report my mother cried over while she held me and said I would be a wonderful mother.
Luca places the second report beside it.
My name.
The same collection date.
The same blood sample number.
But this one is the clinic’s original laboratory record.
Serum hCG: below 5 mIU/mL.
Not pregnant.
Everything around me fades away.
All I can hear is the blood pounding in my ears.
My fingertips turn numb.
My chest tightens until I can barely breathe.
Same name. Same date. Same blood sample.
But this report says I was never pregnant.