Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 33

Aria's POV

"You're insane, Aria!" Sofia's voice cracked. "How could you agree to something like that?"

I told her everything. The phone call, the ultimatum, the way he'd used Jessica's life as leverage. Sofia listened with growing horror.

"This is exactly Damian's method," I said finally. "Instead of leaving you with no hope, men like him are experts at giving you hope, then taking it away. When that hope gets snatched back, you realize just how desperately you wanted it. I had no choice! I couldn't just watch my sister die!"

"Listen." Sofia grabbed my shoulders. "Your sister is temporarily safe now. If you don't sign this contract, wouldn't she still be okay? Aria, do you still have the option to refuse him?"

I shook my head. "With his mafia connections, I guarantee no one in this city would treat my sister again. I can't take that risk."

"There has to be another way. You haven't signed the contract yet!" Sofia's voice grew urgent. "We can at least fight for something in the contract! Like the method of conception! Is it IVF, or is it...?"

My face burned red. I knew what she was getting at.The thought hit me like lightning—I'd been so focused on saving Jessica that I hadn't even considered the mechanics of what I'd agreed to. How exactly was this supposed to happen?

"Oh God," I whispered, pressing my hands to my burning cheeks. "I never... Damian never discussed this with me."

Sofia's expression softened with understanding. "Aria, think about it. Usually pregnancy requires... well, you know. But if he only needs a child, couldn't it be done through medical procedures? That would mean you wouldn't have to be... intimate with him."

The word 'intimate' made my stomach flip. Images flashed through my mind—that night at the hotel, the way he'd controlled every inch of my body, the way I'd surrendered completely to his touch. If this arrangement required that level of intimacy for nine months...

"You're right," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "IVF exists for a reason. Artificial insemination. There are options that don't require..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Exactly!" Sofia leaned forward eagerly. "This could be completely clinical. Medical procedures, doctor supervision, no personal contact beyond what's absolutely necessary."

I felt hope blooming in my chest for the first time since I'd made that terrible phone call. Maybe this didn't have to be as bad as I'd imagined. Maybe I could maintain some shred of dignity, some boundary between my body and his desires.

"But what if he refuses?" I asked. "What if he insists on... the traditional method?"

"Then you negotiate. You have something he wants, Aria. That gives you power, even if it doesn't feel like it."

"Power?" I laughed bitterly. "Sofia, I'm completely at his mercy."

"Are you? He chose you specifically. He could have picked any woman in Florence, any sophisticated socialite who would have jumped at the chance to carry a Cavalieri heir. But he chose you. Why?"

I thought about it. Why had he chosen me? I was nobody special—an orphan with no connections, no advantages, no breeding. What could I possibly offer that he couldn't find elsewhere?

"I don't know," I admitted.

"Then find out. Use that information." Sofia's voice grew more confident. "Tomorrow, when you're sitting across from him and his lawyers, remember that he needs you as much as you need his money. Maybe more."

"You really think I can negotiate with Damian Cavalieri?"

"I think you'd be surprised what you can accomplish when you have to. And this conversation about conception methods—it's legitimate. It's reasonable. Any woman in your position would want to know the details."

I nodded slowly, feeling some of my panic subsiding. "You're right. I have the right to ask questions, to understand exactly what I'm agreeing to."

"More than that. You have the right to set boundaries. To protect yourself however you can." Sofia reached across and squeezed my hand. "Clinical procedures are safer, more controlled. There's medical supervision, proper protocols. If you frame it that way..."

"As a practical concern rather than a personal preference."

"Exactly. What rational businessman wouldn't want to minimize risk and maximize the chances of success?"

"What if he says no? What if he insists it has to be... natural?"

Sofia was quiet for a moment. "Then you'll have to decide what you're willing to do for Jessica's life. But at least you'll have tried. At least you'll know you fought for yourself."

The small apartment felt different that night. Every familiar corner seemed to mock me with memories of simpler times, when my biggest worry was making rent or finding steady work. Now I was hours away from signing a contract that would change everything.

Sofia had insisted on staying the night, spreading blankets on our narrow floor to sleep beside my bed. She'd barely spoken since our conversation at the hospital, but I could hear her restless turning every few minutes.

"Aria?" she whispered into the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Are you really going to go through with this?"

I stared at the ceiling. "I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice. It might not be a good choice, but it's still a choice."

"Then I choose Jessica's life over my own comfort."

Sofia was quiet for a long moment. "What if... what if we could find another donor? Someone else willing to pay for her treatment?"

"In twelve hours? Sofia, be realistic."

"I am being realistic. I'm thinking about what kind of life you'll have after this. Nine months carrying his child, then what? You think you can just walk away and pretend it never happened?"

The thought had kept me awake for hours. "I'll have to."

"That's your baby we're talking about. Your flesh and blood."

"His baby," I corrected firmly. "His heir. I'm just... providing a service."

"You keep telling yourself that, but we both know it's not true."

I turned onto my side, facing away from her voice. "It has to be true. It's the only way I can do this."

Morning came too quickly. At eight-thirty, Sofia and I sat at our tiny kitchen table, picking at toast neither of us wanted to eat.

"Remember what we talked about," Sofia said. "The conception method is negotiable. Don't let him intimidate you into accepting terms you're not comfortable with."

"What if he refuses? What if he says it's his way or no deal?"

"Then you know what kind of man he really is."

"I already know what kind of man he is. That's not the issue."

Sofia reached across the table and took my hand. "The issue is protecting whatever piece of yourself you can. This contract doesn't have to take everything from you."

A sharp knock interrupted us. Three precise raps that somehow managed to sound expensive.

"That's him," I whispered.

Sofia squeezed my hand. "I'm coming with you."

"Sofia—"

"To the car. I'm walking you to the car."

We stood together, my suitcase handle slippery in my sweating palm. The knock came again, more insistent.

I opened the door to find Lorenzo, Damian's right-hand man, dressed in an immaculate black suit. He looked like he'd stepped out of a movie about dangerous men in expensive cars.

"Miss Rossi," he said with polite formality. "Mr. Cavalieri is waiting."

"I'm ready."

Lorenzo's eyes flicked to Sofia, then back to me. "Only you, miss."

"She's just walking me to the car," I said quickly.

He considered this, then nodded curtly. "Five minutes."

The black sedan waiting outside looked like it cost more than I'd earn in a lifetime. Its windows were tinted so dark I couldn't see inside, but I knew Damian was there, waiting for me to honor our agreement.

"This is really happening," Sofia said, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"Yeah. It is."

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll fight for what you need. In the contract, I mean. Don't just accept whatever he offers."

"I promise."

Sofia hugged me fiercely. "I love you, Aria. No matter what happens, that doesn't change."