Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 86

Damian’s POV

I sat in my study, staring at the contract spread across my mahogany desk. The papers that had once seemed so straightforward now felt like a labyrinth of legal language designed to trap us both. The amber liquid in my whiskey glass had gone untouched, growing warm as the evening shadows lengthened across the room.

She wants to leave.

The words echoed in my mind like a death knell. Jennifer had delivered the news with her characteristic directness during this morning's briefing about household arrangements. "Miss Aria has been asking about timelines again, sir. She seems quite eager to begin the medical procedures and move forward with her life."

Move forward with her life. Away from me. Away from this estate that had somehow become more alive with her presence.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke my reverie. Lorenzo knocked.

"You look like hell," he observed with characteristic bluntness.

"Thank you for that assessment." I leaned back in my chair, studying his face. "Have you given more thought to our previous conversation?"

Lorenzo closed the door behind him and took the seat across from my desk. "About Miss Aria's eagerness to begin the fertility treatments?"

"About your... suggestion regarding medical outcomes."

"I've given it considerable thought," Lorenzo replied carefully. "The question is whether you have."

I stood and moved to the window.

"It would be unconscionable," I said quietly.

"Would it? She signed a contract guaranteeing to provide you with an heir. The method of conception was specified as preferable, not mandatory. If clinical procedures fail naturally..."

"They wouldn't be failing naturally." I turned to face him. "They would be failing because we deliberately sabotaged them."

"Dr. Castellano is completely trustworthy and has been compensated generously for his discretion over the years," Lorenzo continued as if I hadn't spoken. "A word from you, and he would simply report that the initial fertility assessments show complications that make IVF inadvisable at this time."

It would be so easy. That was the most damning part. One phone call, one carefully worded instruction to a doctor already in our pocket, and Aria would be forced to remain at the estate indefinitely. She would eventually have to accept more traditional methods of conception, which would bind her to me in ways that went far beyond any contract.

The thought should have horrified me. Instead, I found myself calculating the practicalities.

"And if she suspects something?"

"Why would she? Medical complications are common. Failed IVF attempts happen to thousands of couples every year. She would have no reason to believe the failures were anything other than unfortunate biological reality."

I returned to my desk and lifted the whiskey glass, finally taking a sip of the burning liquid. It did nothing to ease the knot of guilt forming in my stomach.

This is wrong. The voice of my conscience was clear and damning. She trusts you to honor the contract. She's counting on those medical procedures to maintain the professional distance she needs to survive this arrangement.

But another voice, darker and more insistent, whispered back: She's already under your protection. Already living in your house, eating at your table, sleeping under your roof. How much more dangerous would it really be to make the arrangement permanent?

"There's another consideration," I said slowly.

"Sir?"

"Antonio has expressed interest in adopting Aria officially. Making her a Montrosso in name and legal status."

Lorenzo's eyebrows rose slightly. "That would certainly change the dynamic. A woman with the Montrosso name behind her would have protections and freedoms that could complicate our arrangement."

"Exactly." I set down the glass and reached for my phone. "Which is why I need to accelerate that timeline as well."

As I scrolled through my contacts, the irony wasn't lost on me. I was simultaneously planning to trap Aria through medical deception while ensuring she received the family protection that could potentially free her from that very trap. It was a contradiction that would have been laughable if it weren't so morally complex.

The phone rang twice before Antonio's familiar voice answered. "Damian, my boy. What a pleasant surprise."

"Antonio, I hope I'm not calling at an inconvenient time."

"Never. I was just reviewing some papers in my study. How can I help you?"

I took a deep breath, committing to the path I'd chosen. "I wanted to discuss the adoption arrangements we talked about. For Aria."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Ah, yes. The young lady who saved my life. She continues to occupy my thoughts frequently."

"Mine as well," I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. "I think it would be beneficial for everyone if we could move forward with those arrangements as quickly as possible."

"How quickly are we talking?"

"Within the next few weeks, if feasible. I know it's an unusual timeline, but—"

"It's not unusual at all," Antonio interrupted warmly. "When you recognize family, you don't hesitate to claim them. I've actually been making preliminary arrangements already."

Relief flooded through me. "Have you?"

"I've consulted with my lawyers about the fastest legal pathways. There are some complexities because of her age and current circumstances, but nothing insurmountable." Antonio's voice grew more animated. "In fact, I was thinking we could announce it properly at the charity gala next weekend. Make it a celebration rather than just a legal formality."

"A public announcement?"

"Why not? She deserves to know that she has family who claim her with pride. And frankly, it would send a clear message to certain individuals about her protected status within our community."

I understood the implication. Once Aria bore the Montrosso name, no one would dare treat her as disposable. She would have the protection of one of the most powerful families in Italy, with all the respect and security that entailed.

It was exactly what I wanted for her, even as I planned to deceive her in other ways.

"That sounds perfect," I said. "Should I prepare Aria for the announcement?"

"Let me handle that conversation. I'd prefer to tell her personally, as her future adoptive grandfather should." Antonio's voice carried warm paternal pride. "But Damian, there is one thing we should discuss."

"What's that?"

"Her current living arrangements. Once the adoption is finalized, it might be appropriate for her to have her own residence. Something that reflects her new status but also provides proper independence."

My grip tightened on the phone. "She's quite comfortable at the estate."

"I'm sure she is. But a young woman of good family should have choices about her living situation. Options that allow her to build her own life."

"Of course," I managed. "We'll make sure she has every opportunity to choose her own path."

"Excellent. I'll speak with her soon about the adoption. And Damian? Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It's important that family looks after family."

After ending the call, I sat in silence for several long minutes. The contradictions in my behavior were becoming impossible to ignore. I was simultaneously working to ensure Aria's freedom and planning to trap her, giving her a family name that would protect her while scheming to keep her bound to me through biological necessity.

I was becoming everything I'd once despised about my father's generation—a man who confused possession with protection, control with care.

But even acknowledging this, I found myself reaching for my phone again. This time, I dialed Dr. Castellano at the White Rose Clinic.

"Dr. Castellano, it's Damian Cavalieri."

"Mr. Cavalieri, good evening. I was actually hoping to speak with you soon."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've completed Miss Rossi's preliminary assessment based on the medical records you provided. The results are quite encouraging. She's an excellent candidate for IVF procedures, with very high success probability. Her reproductive health is exceptional for her age, and I see no factors that would complicate conception through clinical means."

Here was the good news that should have pleased me—confirmation that our original arrangement could proceed smoothly and efficiently, exactly as Aria wanted. Instead, it felt like a door slamming shut on possibilities I wasn't ready to abandon.

Tell him to proceed, my conscience demanded. Honor your word to her. Let her have the clinical, professional arrangement she needs to maintain her dignity and independence.

"Doctor," I heard myself saying instead, "I need you to reconsider that assessment."

There was a pause. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"I need you to find reasons why IVF would be inadvisable at this time."

The silence on the other end of the line stretched longer. When Dr. Castellano finally spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "Are there medical factors I should be aware of that weren't included in her previous records?"

"There are... complications that make the clinical approach inappropriate. I trust you can find suitable medical justifications for delaying those procedures indefinitely."

Another pause. Then, in a voice that carried the weight of years spent navigating the moral complexities of treating powerful families: "I understand, Mr. Cavalieri. I'll prepare a revised assessment that recommends postponing any fertility treatments until her overall health profile improves. These things can be quite complex, medically speaking."

"Thank you, Doctor. Your discretion in this matter is, as always, appreciated."

"Of course, sir. Should I schedule an appointment to deliver this news personally?"

"That won't be necessary. I'll handle the communication with Miss Rossi."