Accidentally Inseminated With The Alpha’s baby

mrs. narducci

IZABELLA

With just two days left to the wedding, I was more than ready for the whole thing to be over and done with.

The last three days had been a lot, with me attempting to move from my home—or the home Xavier had been letting me stay in—as quickly as possible, being the most taxing.

On the bright side, it could have been worse.

If Ignazio hadn’t sent movers over to speed the process along, I would probably still be boxing up my house and cursing as I broke yet another dish in the process.

Thanks to him, in twenty-four hours, everything was packed up and I was finally able to put that part of my life behind me and move on to the next.

The next being a large suburban house in a beautiful neighborhood downtown.

It wasn’t in the heart of the city, and God. I could have sworn my jaw physically dropped when the driver pulled up next to the house, and it wasn’t until I was actually inside that I managed to convince myself that it was going to be my house from then on.

Well, mine and Violetta’s.

Violetta was as shocked as I was, and if it weren’t for me reprimanding her and promising to keep her in the loop via pictures and videos, she’d have left school again just to tour the house.

There wasn’t a single mention of Connie. And I was starting to realize I preferred it that way.

I was happy to see my sister so genuinely excited for something after so long that it eased a bit of the tension I’d been feeling recently.

But not all of it.

As I unpacked my boxes and settled into my new home, I couldn’t help but realize that through out all of it, I still hadn’t seen Ignazio. Not once since the night inside his car outside my old apartment a week ago.

We kept things to text. Almost... strictly.

For example, he’d text me an address, attached to it would be the words––

Dress fitting. Wednesday at six. Don’t be late.

The wedding plans, the arrangements, he was taking care of all of it.

I was glad, because if we decide to get a divorce at the end of all this, and I get married again––actually married–– then I’d have things to look forward to planning for the first time when my marriage would actually be real.

And I had the feeling planing this wedding right now would be too overwhelming for me. It took a full 48 hours for me to wrap my head around the fact that we were even having a wedding.

I kept asking myself why we couldn't just sign a piece of paper and get it over with.

Anyway, his physical absence didn’t mean he’d abandoned me.

Quite the contrary.

Just a day after the night in his car, I visited my father in the hospital, also wanting to speak to the doctors regarding his situation and what Ignazio and I planned to do about it. But, color me gobsmacked when the doctor told me that my father’s funding had been taken care of already, and they were in the process of relocating him to a more capable hospital.

When I panicked, I was assured by the staff that everything had already been handled, by my father’s son-in-law.

Ignazio.

It was... surprising to say the least.

Even though I had worked for Ignazio for four years, I didn’t think he knew things about my personal life.

I should have known better.

After all, he did lay out every single life issue I was facing and offered to solve them in exchange for me giving him a baby.

We rarely spoke about our personal lives to each other and the few times when we did, it was bits and pieces of only the more relevant parcels of information. How he’d taken a deep dive into my life so quickly didn’t go unnoticed by me.

But then, I probably shouldn’t be too surprised.

If Ignazio wanted to know everything about me––if he wanted to know anything about anyone––all he had to do was snap his fingers.

I planned on thanking him the next time I saw him, which turned out to be the very next day because I received word that I had a meeting with him and his lawyer.

Presently, I walked out of the elevator to the top floor of Narducci Empires––his office building.

My office building till a week ago.

Heels clicking on the linoleum floors as I made my way to the boardroom, pushing the door open, I sighted the only two people in the room seated at the long table.

Ignazio and his lawyer.

I exhaled a heavy breath in preparation for what I knew would be a long briefing and went to join them.

“Miss Visconte,” The man nodded in greeting.

I offered him a polite smile and sank into the seat on his right. Then shifted my gaze to Ignazio sitting across from me.

My gaze dove right back to his lawyer sitting at the head of the boardroom table, where Ignazio usually sat, before shifting back.

His even gaze met mine, dark eyes accessing for less than two seconds. Then he voiced, “Shall we begin?”

And we dove right in.

It was hard to keep up with the lawyer’s rapid-fire delivery as we went over the documents, clauses, confidentiality and whatnot. I wasn’t surprised when the man easily glossed over the more intimate details of our partnership, after all, he was the lawyer. But I was turning beet red in my seat.

Halfway through yet another folder, I glanced up at Ignazio who had on his typical calm demeanour as he scanned some documents of his own.

An hour, maybe more into the meeting, the lawyer cleared his throat and slammed yet another folder shut. Moving us to the next topic of discussion.

“Now, concerning your living arrangements,” he began.

I tensed, this was the moment I’d been waiting for.

“Miss Viconte,” the lawyer began, “As Per Mr Narducci’s request, you’ll be living in his family mansion in his pack lands.”

I blinked and shock coloured my features.

In his pack?

With his people?

I glanced at Ignazio, sputtering with confusion. “I thought I’d be staying in the penthouse in the city?”

I clung to stupid hope that I could stay with Violetta at first, but all that went out the window when I heard Ignazio was choosing to actually have a wedding.

There’s no way I would live with my sister if he was going to those lengths.

The lawyer answered instead of my fake fiancé. “By the clauses of this arrangement, Mr. Narducci and yourself will be entering a partnership, one required to sell.” He held my gaze, “It may not be real, but in the instance that you do conceive, you may both decide to not terminate the marriage in order to account for your offspring. The comfort of this partnership may extend passed your possible delivery. Therefore it would be wise to establish solid foundations if this will continue in the long run. For example, stepping into the role as...” The lawyer flicked his gaze to Ignazio before tentatively adding, “His Luna.”

Christ.

The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. Was I really supposed to be getting so involved with his roots like that? His real home? With his people?

I’d never existed with wolves outside of work.

Outside Xavier.

I inwardly cringed.

To distract myself from the thought of him, I looked at the lawyer, noting how he talked about the possible kid like an object.

I looked at Ignazio again, watching him looking like he was half listening as he let go of one file and picked up another. But I knew Ignazio in meetings.

Despite the fact that he was relaxed in his chair, seemingly distracted...

He was fully present.

I found myself wondering what type of parent he would be.

Would he look at our child like an object too?

Male or female, one child. That’s what he said.

Would he raise our baby? Or train an heir to his legacy?

Would I even... stick around for it to be our baby?

My mind went to his penthouse, I could count on one hand the number of times Ignazio had been to his family home since I started working for him, so this was a surprise. Infact, a freaking whiplash.

And... not to mention, the penthouse was where he preferred to take his women.

The few times there were any.

“I thought the penthouse was what you usually frequent,” I said to him instead.

Ignazio didn’t look up from his file.

“My family home is what I choose for you.”

I went quiet.

It was a casual statement.

But something about living in his family home felt too personal to me. Too... intimate.

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, until Ignazio finally broke it.

“Would you like to see the house?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “The house?”

“If you’re going to live there,” he said, voice even, “you might want to see it first.”

He wasn’t wrong, so I didn’t say anything else, a little stunned by how quickly things were moving, both in regards to the information I was currently being fed and the marriage thing as a whole.

After briefly scanning my expression, he asked out loud, “Are we done here?”

I realized the question was directed at his lawyer when the man gave a curt nod.

Without hesitation, Ignazio stood and looked at me expectantly. “Come with me.”

It was an order phrased softly as he stared down at me.

Get it together, Izabella.

Things are going fast, but you can handle fast.

You’re a boss when it comes to pressure from this man. You’ve done it for four years.

Yet, I still hesitated for a brief second before following him. We rode the elevator down in silence, and when we stepped outside, he held the car door open for me and I smiled tightly as I slipped inside.

Once he was inside, I took a slow breath and gathered my thoughts. I finally told him what I’d been meaning to since I left the hospital, “Thank you.”

He glanced at me, expression cool, “For?”

I exhaled. “For everything, Mr Ignazio.

A pause.

Then, in that same calm, commanding tone, he said, “Call me Ignazio.”

I opened my mouth––

To what?

Tell him that was inappropriate?

Calling him Mr. Would be more inappropriate. Considering he was going to be my husband.

Well it might be considered freaky to some but I wasn’t going to go there.

I tried it out in his presence, “Ignazio.”

A satisfied nod. “You might as well get comfortable with this. We both have something to gain from this arrangement.” He faced forward, “I can extend those same pleasantries to you, Izabella. So thank you, too.”

I said nothing.

This felt odd, like we were blurring a line.

The drive passed in silence, but my mind was racing.

I had worked for Ignazio for long enough to know how private he was. The press speculated about his personal life, but no one truly knew anything beyond what he let slip—and he let very little slip.

Yet here I was, being driven to his pack for what felt like hours. I couldn’t help but feel a little more than curious and peeked out the window as we drove further and further passed the massive gates.

They had everything.

From tall buildings to small cafes, massive sprouting trees, paved roads, suburban areas, shopping malls.

And along the drive, the reflection of a large water body in the distance stole my breath away as the sun made the blue bank sparkle.

Was it possible that they had a beach in this place too?

It was a glorified city in Modern New york, even more vibrant than New York as a whole if that was possible.

He gave his people the entire world in one enclosed area.

I was certain I could spend my entire life in this one place without yearning to venture elsewhere.

It was that abundant.

It was... beautiful.

Further into the land, we entered a long, winding driveway lined with trees leading up to a massive iron gate at the very end of the road. A large wolf crested over head the iron spines, breaking in half as the doors of the gate were pulled apart on each side.

The car sped down a long driveway, before the house—no, the mansion—came into view at the end of the property. It was massive, elegant, and eerily quiet, much like the man beside me.

When the car stopped, I stepped out, unsure of what to expect.

The front door opened before we even reached it, and an older woman stepped out. Her sharp eyes softened when they landed on Ignazio. “Oh dear! You should have called before you came, Yim.”

“It was a little last minute,” he said smoothly.

Yim?

Then he gestured towards me. “I came with a guest,” he announced, “In a few days, she’ll be living here.”

The woman turned to me with a warm smile, but her brows were slanted in confusion. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss—”

“Mrs. Narducci.”

My breath caught.

I snapped my head toward Ignazio, but his expression remained perfectly composed as if the words hadn’t just sent a shock wave through me. The woman’s eyes widened, but she recovered quickly, her smile deepening.

“Well then, Mrs. Narducci, welcome to your new home.”

I forced myself to nod, still reeling.

Patricia, as she introduced herself, led me inside, guiding me through the grand halls and lavishly decorated rooms, giving me a tour per Ignazio’s request.

The sheer size of the house was overwhelming, its beauty almost surreal. There were pictures of every member of Ignazio’s family lined on walls in the house. His late parents, his little sister, Disney.

A man had a portrait larger than any in the house in the room I assumed was some sort of study. The lines of his face were handsome, almost familiar. And as my gaze shifted from a picture of Ignazio’s father, down to Ignazio, I connected the dots.

The massive portrait had an older feel.

I stepped closer, eyeing the date engraved into the frame, 1985.

Fabrizio Narducci.

My hand dropped, and I backed away, taking in all the portraits of the Narducci men, from grandfather right down to Ignazio.

Fabrizio had amazing genes, I mused.

We moved on to the another one of the litter of rooms.

In more than just the literal sense.

At least there were enough bedrooms that Ignazio and I technically didn’t have to share a space, not to mention the house was plenty big enough for us to have our own lives without obstructing each other.

Again, some of my tension eased.

I liked the house—who wouldn’t—and I liked the warm woman who showed me around.

By the time I returned downstairs, Ignazio had just finished a call. He studied me for a long moment, eyes trailing over me as I descended the steps before speaking. “Ready to leave?”

He wasn’t going to ask what I thought of the house?

Well, I supposed he didn’t care.

He didn’t care... yet we spent almost two hours on the road to get here.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He gestured for him to come with him.

We stepped outside.

And then—

Chaos.

“Mr. Narducci! Is it true you’re getting married?”

“Who is she? Why haven’t we heard about her before?”

“How long have you been hiding your wife?”

Immediately, I froze.

A blinding storm of camera flashes erupted, voices rising in a frenzy.

Shouting over each other, dozens of reporters and photographers stood just beyond the gates of Ignazio’s home.