Chapter 1 - The Waitress at Table One
Nora Ellis tightened her fingers around the crystal pitcher and whispered, “Don’t you dare drop this now.”
Nico Bellandi entered the dining room and noticed the silver bracelet around her wrist.
Three tiny letters were engraved beneath the clasp.
N.E.B.
His face changed.
This was no coincidence.
For several seconds, Belladonna seemed to forget how to breathe.
Nora wished she could do the same.
Nico stood beneath the restaurant’s crystal chandelier, surrounded by men who normally moved when he moved and stopped when he stopped. His charcoal suit fit him with the unforgiving precision of armor. The burgundy tie at his throat matched the pocket square folded over his heart.
Six months ago, Nora had known what that heart sounded like beneath her cheek.
Now she knew only what silence sounded like after a man disappeared.
Viviana Greco followed Nico’s stare.
“Nico?”
He didn’t answer.
His gaze moved slowly from Nora’s face to the curve of her stomach.
Thirty-two weeks.
There was no hiding it.
Nora set the pitcher on the table before her shaking hand betrayed her.
Viviana looked between them.
“You know the waitress?”
Nora almost laughed.
The waitress.
Eight months earlier, she had been Nora Ellis, freelance event coordinator, stubborn coffee addict, and the woman Nico Bellandi had spent seven impossible weeks convincing that he was something more complicated than the rumors surrounding his family.
Then one morning he had vanished.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
His phone had been disconnected.
His apartment emptied.
Three days later Nora had learned she was pregnant.
“Nora,” Nico said.
The sound of her name struck harder than she expected.
Viviana’s expression sharpened.
Nora picked up her order pad.
“Would you like another minute with the menu?”
“Nora.”
“I’m working.”
Nico stepped closer.
“So am I,” she added. “Unlike some people, apparently.”
A nervous sound escaped from a nearby diner.
Viviana slowly rose.
She was magnificent when angry.
The burgundy satin of her gown caught the chandelier light. Diamonds glittered at her throat.
“Nico,” she said quietly, “who is she?”
Nora looked directly at him.
“Yes, Nico. Who am I?”
His jaw tightened.
“Someone I knew.”
Nora nodded.
“There. Mystery solved. Sparkling or still?”
Viviana’s humiliation deepened because two tables were openly listening now.
“You seem to have forgotten your position,” she said.
“My position is standing,” Nora replied. “Which is becoming increasingly ambitious.”
“Enough,” Nico said.
Nora’s smile vanished.
She knew that voice.
Not loud.
Never loud.
It was the voice that made rooms obey.
Unfortunately for him, pregnancy had destroyed the last surviving portion of Nora’s patience.
“Don’t use that voice on me.”
One of Nico’s security men looked as though Nora had slapped a lion.
Nico stared at her.
Then something almost impossible happened.
His mouth twitched.
Viviana saw it.
That tiny reaction seemed to anger her more than Nora’s insults.
“Fire her,” Viviana said.
Marco, Belladonna’s manager, appeared from nowhere.
“Ms. Greco—”
“I said fire her.”
Nora reached behind herself and untied her apron.
“Great.”
“Nora,” Marco whispered.
“No, really. My feet are killing me.”
She folded the apron and placed it beside Viviana’s untouched bread plate.
“Enjoy Table One.”
Then she turned.
Nico caught her wrist.
Not hard.
But Nora froze.
His thumb rested inches from the silver bracelet.
The bracelet he had given her.
His initials were engraved beside hers.
Nora had forgotten she was wearing it.
Or perhaps some foolish part of her had never been able to stop.
“Let go,” she whispered.
Nico did.
His eyes dropped again.
Not to the bracelet.
To her stomach.
“When?”
Nora knew exactly what he meant.
She lifted her chin.
“None of your business.”
His face went still.
“Nora.”
“You lost the privilege of asking personal questions when you disappeared.”
Viviana stepped between them.
“Disappeared?”
Nico ignored her.
“How many weeks?”
Nora’s throat tightened.
She could lie.
She should lie.
Instead she said, “Thirty-two.”
Nico calculated immediately.
She watched him do it.
One month.
Two.
His eyes changed by the time he reached eight.
“Nora.”
She backed away.
“No.”
“Is the baby—”
“Don’t.”
The entire restaurant had become painfully silent.
Nora felt suddenly exposed.
Not merely because dozens of strangers were watching.
Because Nico was looking at her the way he had the first night she told him about the father who had abandoned her mother.
As if abandonment were the one cruelty he could never forgive.
The irony nearly made her sick.
Viviana laughed once.
It was a brittle sound.
“This is absurd.”
Nico still didn’t look at her.
“Is the baby mine?”
Nora stared at him.
Then she smiled.
Not because anything was funny.
Because if she didn’t smile, she might cry.
“You don’t get to walk back into my life in a three-thousand-dollar suit and ask that question in front of forty strangers.”
“I need an answer.”
“You needed a goodbye.”
That landed.
His hand dropped.
For the first time since Nora had known him, Nico Bellandi looked wounded.
Good, she thought.
Then immediately hated herself for thinking it.
Viviana reached for Nico’s arm.
“Nico, we are leaving.”
He pulled away without looking at her.
“Did you know where I was?” he asked Nora.
She frowned.
“What?”
“After I left.”
“I didn’t care.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
“No. I didn’t know.”
His expression became darker.
“Did anyone contact you?”
Nora’s irritation faltered.
“What are you talking about?”
“A man. A woman. Anyone connected to me.”
“No.”
He looked toward his security chief.
Something passed silently between them.
Nora noticed.
And suddenly the confrontation no longer felt romantic or humiliating.
It felt dangerous.
“Nico.”
He turned back.
“What happened eight months ago?”
Before he could answer, a sharp pain tightened across Nora’s abdomen.
She inhaled.
Her hand flew instinctively to her belly.
Nico moved immediately.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Nora.”
“Braxton Hicks.”
He clearly had no idea what that meant.
Despite herself, she almost smiled.
“Fake contractions.”
His face lost color anyway.
Viviana stared at him.
Nora saw the realization forming in the woman’s eyes.
Not simply that Nico might have fathered Nora’s baby.
Something worse.
He cared.
Deeply.
“Sit down,” Nico said.
“I’m fine.”
“Sit.”
“You still haven’t learned.”
“Learned what?”
“That ordering me around doesn’t work.”
Another tightening sensation came.
This one stronger.
Nora grabbed the edge of the table.
Nico caught her before her knees weakened.
The room erupted.
“Nora!”
“I’m okay.”
But then she felt warmth.
Her eyes widened.
No.
Not here.
Not at thirty-two weeks.
She looked down.
A small pool of clear liquid appeared on the polished floor beneath her.
Nico saw it.
So did Viviana.
Marco whispered, “Oh God.”
Nora’s heart began pounding.
Nico lifted her into his arms before she could protest.
“Call the hospital.”
Viviana stepped in front of him.
“Nico, put her down.”
He looked at his fiancée.
“No.”
“You’re carrying a waitress through a restaurant in front of everyone.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
Nora gripped Nico’s lapel as another cramp hit.
Then she heard Viviana say something so quietly that only the three of them could hear.
“If that child is yours, your father will finish what he started eight months ago.”
Nico stopped.
Nora looked at him.
“What did she mean?”
Viviana realized her mistake.
Nico’s expression became terrifyingly calm.
“Get Nora out.”
His security chief approached.
Nora grabbed Nico’s sleeve.
“No. Tell me.”
“Nora—”
“What happened eight months ago?”
His phone vibrated.
He pulled it from his pocket.
One message.
No sender.
A photograph filled the screen.
Nora recognized herself immediately.
She was asleep in her apartment.
The photograph had been taken three nights earlier.
May you like
Beneath it were six words.
WE KNOW THE CHILD IS HIS.
