Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 85

Aria’s POV

"The kind that doesn't want to hear you in pain."

Those words kept spinning in my head. I looked at Damian, trying to find some clue in his eyes, wondering if he was playing another game.

But there was something in his expression I'd never seen before, like he actually cared.

Don't be stupid. I quickly looked away, staring at the wall. Don't start imagining things again.

I'd made this mistake before. After Victoria pushed me into the lake, when I was lying in that hospital bed, the first thing he asked wasn't how I was doing, but whether it would affect my ability to get pregnant.

Will this affect her ability to conceive?

Those words were cold as ice, shattering all my fantasies. So why was I letting his latest comment get to me now?

"Dr. Ferretti said she'd have results within forty-eight hours." I said.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

The question was so ordinary, so normal, that it caught me off guard.

"I'm fine," I said, though my voice sounded strained.

"Aria—"

"I said I'm fine. The doctor said I'm an excellent candidate for IVF. That's what matters, isn't it?"

I caught something flash across his face, but it was too quick to be sure.

The drive back to the estate was conducted in heavy silence. I kept staring out the window at the Tuscan countryside rolling past, trying to process everything that had happened. The examination itself had been uncomfortable enough without Damian's unexpected intrusion, but it was his reaction afterward that really unsettled me.

The kind that doesn't want to hear you in pain.

What did that even mean? Was it genuine concern, or just a possessive man protecting what he considered his property? I'd seen enough of Damian's controlling nature over the past weeks to know he viewed me as something to be managed and supervised. But the vulnerability in his voice when he said those words, the raw honesty of it...

I shook my head, annoyed with myself for even entertaining such thoughts. I couldn't afford to misinterpret his actions again. The memory of that hospital room was still too fresh, too painful.

When we finally arrived at the villa, I headed straight for the staircase, desperate for the solitude of my room to collect my scattered thoughts. But Damian's voice stopped me before I could escape.

"We need to discuss next steps."

I turned reluctantly. He stood in his study doorway, one hand resting against the frame with deceptive casualness. Even in that relaxed pose, he radiated the kind of quiet authority that made people obey without question. His dark eyes were fixed on me with that penetrating intensity that always made me feel exposed.

"What next steps?" I asked, though I probably already knew the answer.

"The medical procedures. Now that Dr. Ferretti has confirmed you're an excellent candidate, we can begin the IVF process immediately."

"How soon?" I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral.

"I'll make the arrangements tomorrow. We can probably start hormone treatments within the week."

Within the week. The timeline suddenly felt very real, very immediate. In just a few days, I would be starting the medical process that would eventually result in me carrying Damian's child. The thought sent a strange mix of anticipation and dread through my system.

"And then?"

"Dr. Ferretti estimated the whole process could take several months. Hormone treatments, egg retrieval, embryo implantation..." He recited the steps like items on a business agenda, his voice professionally detached. "If the first attempt works, we could confirm pregnancy within eight to ten weeks."

Eight to ten weeks. Then nine months of pregnancy. Then...

"Then what?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Damian's expression became guarded, his features settling into that familiar mask of cold control. "Then you fulfill the contract terms. You carry the child to term, recover from delivery, and receive your payment."

"And then I leave."

"Yes."

The single word hung between us like an insurmountable wall. Final. Unchangeable. Absolute.

I nodded slowly, surprised by how much that simple confirmation stung. Of course I would leave—that had always been the arrangement. I would take the money, pay for Jessica's treatment, and return to my quiet life in the city. Damian would have his heir, and I would disappear from his world as if I'd never existed.

It was exactly what I'd wanted from the beginning. So why did the prospect now feel like losing something precious?

"I see," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Something flickered across his features—too quick to identify, but it left me with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"What if... what if the first attempt doesn't work? IVF doesn't always succeed the first time."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken implications. We both knew what the alternative would be. The thought of it made heat flood my cheeks, but I forced myself to meet his dark gaze.

"Then we try again," he said smoothly, though there was something almost evasive in his tone. "As many times as necessary."

But there was something in the way he said it, something that made me wonder if he truly wanted the clinical procedures to succeed. The thought was disturbing, suggesting a level of calculation and manipulation that I didn't want to contemplate.

He suddenly returned to that cold expression, the temperature in the room seeming to drop several degrees. The change was so abrupt that I found myself shrinking back involuntarily.

"You really want to leave?"

There was something almost dangerous in his voice, a quiet intensity that reminded me exactly who I was dealing with.

I nodded in acknowledgment, not trusting my voice to remain steady.

"Even though Antonio wants to recognize you as his granddaughter, you still want to leave?"

The mention of Antonio sent a wave of conflicted emotions through me. "I will express my gratitude to him." Just thinking about the elderly patriarch gave me a warm, almost familial feeling, as if he really could be my grandfather. There was something about his gentle manner and protective instincts that spoke to a deep longing I'd carried since childhood.

But I knew better than to indulge in such fantasies. I would never truly belong to a family like theirs.

If I really agreed to Antonio's offer, Adrian would probably convince herself that I was trying to steal her grandfather away from her. Her imagination had always been so vivid, her jealousy so intense. I could already picture the accusations, the vindictive schemes she would concoct.

"I will express my thanks to him," I continued, forcing my voice to remain steady. "But we're not from the same world."

"What are you afraid of? Afraid of Adrian?" His voice carried a note of something that might have been protectiveness. "She's already learned her lesson. Don't worry, I will protect... I mean, once you acknowledge Antonio as your grandfather, he will protect you."

"I don't need protection from any of you," I said firmly, though my heart was beating faster. "I just want to live peacefully with my sister."

His expression darkened, and when he spoke, his voice was so low it was almost a whisper.

"You can't leave."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," he said, his voice returning to its usual controlled tone. "I said nothing important."

But I had heard him clearly. Those three words echoed in my mind with crystal clarity.

"Aria," he continued, and now there was something almost menacing in his voice, "you'd better pray that your body is suitable for IVF."

I don't know why, but even though I had clearly heard Dr. Ferretti say my body was very healthy and perfectly suited for the procedure, when I heard Damian say this, I was overcome with a vague but persistent sense of dread.