HER ROYAL MAFIA

FAKING BABY!

CAMILLA RYDER

My heart slammed against my chest as Lorenzo stormed into the room.

No. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet.

He stopped right in front of me, and Vincenzo instinctively took few steps backwards, putting space between us.

Lorenzo’s shoulder-length hair caught the breeze slipping through the still-open window. As always, his face was carved from stone—emotionless, unreadable. No smile. Just that signature, cold stare.

Then, the corner of his mouth curled. A smirk.

I looked away, trying to slip past him, but his hand shot out, grabbing my arm loosely.

"A pleasant surprise, isn't it?" he said, voice smooth and taunting.

Surprise? Sure. Pleasant? Not even close. But really, why was I surprised? Lorenzo came and went like a ghost, always when it suited him. And he never missed a chance to be the center of attention.

"Let go of me, Lorenzo!" I snapped, yanking my arm.

He scoffed but released me slowly, like he wanted me to know it was his choice.

"I thought you were having fun without me," he said, eyes flicking to Vincenzo. "So I figured… why not join in? After all, it shouldn’t be just him enjoying your company."

The audacity. It took every shred of self-control in me not to slap that smug expression off his face.

He’d always been like this—controlling, arrogant, and impossible. And yet, I’d been married to him for three years.

Our marriage was just like living with a ghost that only shows up when it pleases.

Yeah! Reason?

His father wanted it and I married him because it was a deal in exchange of having my life and freedom back... A deal... That’s all it ever was.

"If you’re done talking, I’m going inside. I’m tired." I just said but I haven't moved yet before he spoke.

"Great. Then we’ll sleep together," he said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You don’t mind, do you? I mean, we are a married couple, after all."

That smug look on his face again.

Vincenzo started to speak, but I raised a hand to stop him. This was already messy enough.

Yes, Lorenzo and I had been married for three years but we’d never shared a room.

Shocking? Maybe.

But no one knew the truth behind our arrangement. We lived like strangers under one roof, colliding only when his temper flared—or when he needed to remind me who held the power.

But tonight, I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

I stepped closer, catching the sharp stench of alcohol on his breath. And suddenly, his behavior made perfect sense.

He was drunk in the most natural way.

"Fine," I said, my voice low but firm enough to make him understand nothing is ever happening. "Let’s sleep in the same room. You know what that means, right?"

His smirk faltered just a bit.

"Good night, Vin," I said to Vincenzo, whose silence was laced with tension. I knew it was killing him to stand there and watch all the drama that had happened.

I turned and led the way to my room.

As we walked inside, I shut the door, grabbed my pajamas, and locked myself in the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I stepped out, my hair damp and the fresh scent of my hair shampoo escaped from the bathroom.

Lorenzo was lounging on the couch, swirling a glass of wine in his hand.

"My father wants a grandchild already, Giulia," he said, like he was discussing the weather.

I froze mid-step.

His words hung in the air, heavy and striking.

It took me a full five seconds to process his words, but he just kept staring into nothing in particular, his eyes unfocused.

"Today was my mum’s death anniversary," he muttered. "It was supposed to be peaceful... a quiet day to respect her memory. But no, he had to start one of his little fights again, threatening my position in the company. Why today of all days, right?"

He posed it like a question, but I knew it wasn’t fully him speaking—it was the alcohol. He probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation tomorrow.

Still, there was something in his voice, something hollow and aching. He’d never mentioned his mum before—not even hinted that she was gone.

What was I even saying? We never spoke to each other except it was necessary let alone spoke about our personal lives or struggle.

Personal matters? Off-limits.

"Good night," I said quietly, slipping under the duvet.

He took a slow sip of his drink and turned his gaze toward me from where he sat.“He said to meet at 10 a.m. tomorrow at his villa, anyway,” he said flatly.

And that was it. Not another word.

I had a feeling tomorrow’s meeting was going to be another storm. But as sleep began to pull me under, his words echoed in my mind, tangled with everything unspoken.

The next morning, I woke with a start.

Lorenzo was gone. Not beside me, not in the room—nowhere.

Panic washed over me as I saw the time, it was past 10a.m.

“Oh Sh*t!” I gasped, already rushing out of bed.

The meeting was at ten. That jerk didn’t even bother waking me. He knows how terrifying his father gets when it comes to punctuality.

I flew into the bathroom and was out in less than ten minutes. My fingers flying across my phone, I shot a message to Vincenzo.

MEET ME AT THE PARKING LOT.

I slammed the door behind me and rushed outside. My white, sleek RV car waited like a knight in shining armor.

Vincenzo stood beside it in a sharp black suit, shirt slightly unbuttoned as he opened the rear passenger door with a look that said, you're late, but I'm not surprised.

Vincenzo didn’t wait a second, he zoomed off the moment the car door clicked shut.

By the time we pulled into the Vincent villa, my pulse was racing. The place was every bit as grand as the rumors had it—massive, regal, and intimidating. It loomed like royalty in the heart of New York.

My stilettos echoed sharply against the marble floor as I strode toward the sitting area, the sound loud against the silence that filled the villa. My nerves buzzed beneath my skin.

As I neared the dining room, I saw them—Lorenzo and his father, they were in the middle of finish their meal at the grand table.

Each step toward them felt like walking straight into a lion’s den.

Marco looked up, his expression unreadable.“Weren’t you sick and said you couldn’t make it?” he asked coolly.

I froze for half a second, caught off guard. My eyes flicked to Lorenzo. He didn’t look at me, he just stared blankly ahead, avoiding my gaze. But something about his stillness said Play along.

I forced a smile—stiff and shaky, but just enough to ease the tension.“Yes… I wasn’t feeling great. But I couldn’t let that stop me from attending the meeting.”

I lied. Whatever this was, he'd have to deal with me later.

Marco dabbed the corners of his mouth with a fancy handkerchief.“Just sit. I’ve got somewhere to be and you’ve already wasted too much of my time.”

I pulled out a chair and slid in next to Lorenzo. He didn’t even blink.

Marco sipped his wine, then turned fully to me.“Actually, you should’ve stayed home and rested more, considering your condition.”

I blinked, confused. “My condition?”

He nodded, smiling like he’d just handed out a surprise gift.“Yes… My grandchild needs to stay healthy, don’t you think?”

His gaze dropped pointedly to my stomach.

I choked on air, my heart crashing against my ribs.

What in the—

“Lorenzo said you told him yesterday,” Marco continued smoothly. “That you’re pregnant.”

My head spun. “What?!” I blurted, eyes snapping to Lorenzo in disbelief.

He still wouldn’t look at me.

Was he out of his d*rn mind?...