The Cost of Castellano

The moment I told Grayson Castellano—Chicago’s underground king—about my pregnancy, his face went stone cold.

When I asked about our wedding, he deflected. Again.

So I went to my prenatal appointment alone. That’s where I found them. He and his ex, Amber.

Grayson’s face glowed with that unmistakable expectant-father radiance.

Then the nurse called my name.

I stepped out of the shadows. Our eyes met.

He froze, never expecting to see me there.

I walked over slowly, “Care to explain?”

His mouth opened, but no words came.

That’s when Amber raised her left hand, flashing the diamond on her ring finger.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce myself—I’m Mrs. Amber Castellano.”

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1

The moment the test showed positive, I told Grayson Castellano. I was one month pregnant, and I was ecstatic.

He was my boyfriend and, more importantly, the most magnetic and legendary leader in Chicago’s underworld.

He, on the other hand, was not. His face went cold. His voice, like stone.

When I asked him about our engagement, he changed the subject so fast it gave me whiplash.

I was Ophelia Romano, a princess of the Romano family, sent to Chicago to manage family interests.

We’d been drawn to each other instantly at a party—we were the two hottest people in the room, and we made a beeline for each other.

Of course, it was more than that.

He didn’t just need a hot girlfriend; he needed the backing of an established power to solidify his own. And I, besides being a sucker for his face and physique, found my family a powerful new ally in Chicago.

I thought we were a perfect match. But today, I was at the OB-GYN, alone.

And that’s when I saw her. Amber Martinelli—his ride-or-die ex-girlfriend.

The truth hit me like a slug to the chest. They were secretly married. And she was pregnant, too.

She was whispering to her stomach. "You little troublemaker, you need to grow up strong and not give Mamma a hard time. Or Papa’s heir is going to get a spanking when he gets out!"

Just then, Grayson emerged from an exam room holding prenatal vitamins.

His face was glowing with that soft, satisfied look of a soon-to-be dad.

He smiled, placing a hand on Amber’s stomach. "He can't even understand you yet, and you're already threatening him?"

Then the nurse called my name. "Ophelia Romano?"

I rose from the shadows. His head snapped in my direction. Our eyes locked.

He froze, completely and utterly caught.

I’m willing to bet my entire inheritance he never imagined he’d run into me here. Same day, same clinic.

Just yesterday, I'd begged him to come with me. He'd said he was busy, and I'd believed him. I didn't ask a single question, just made the appointment and came by myself.

Turns out "busy" meant playing the perfect husband to Amber while I apparently ceased to exist.

I walked slowly toward them, my eyes fixed on Amber’s small, round belly. My face was a blank mask. As calm as death.

"How far along are you?" I asked.

Grayson’s jaw was clamped shut. He wouldn't even look at me.

But Amber? She smiled like she’d just won the lottery.

"Almost two months," she said, her voice dripping with triumph. "With Grayson’s baby."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

Just like me. Two months.

Something inside me snapped. Tears started falling, hot and fast, and I couldn't stop them.

I looked up at him, my voice trembling.

"Aren't you going to explain?"

His face twisted. "Listen," he hissed, grabbing my arm and dragging me into a dark corner, pinning me against the wall with his body.

"I'm sorry, I lied. I came with her—but the baby isn't mine. I was just afraid something would happen if she were alone."

Behind him, Amber’s smug smile flickered before she turned on the waterworks.

"But Grayson, you promised you’d be the baby’s father. We’re married. He’s going to take your name when he’s born."