MY MAFIA HUSBAND BELIEVED HE WAS INFERTILE FOR 12 YEARS

Ava Price didn't look impressed when Luca Varenna walked into her office.

She looked angry.

Her office was on the fifth floor of an older building near the Boston waterfront.

The furniture was practical.

The carpet was worn.

A framed photograph of her father stood beside her computer.

Owen Price.

The man who'd saved Luca's life.

And died in the warehouse explosion.

Ava was thirty-eight, with dark blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail and the guarded expression of someone who had learned not to trust powerful men.

She didn't offer Luca a chair.

"I've been trying to speak to your family for twelve years," she said.

Luca stood quietly.

"I know."

"No. You don't."

Her voice sharpened.

"My father died saving your life. Your family paid for his funeral, sent my mother a settlement agreement, and told us the accident was nobody's fault."

I felt Luca stiffen beside me.

Ava continued.

"When I asked for the safety inspection reports, your company refused to release them without a court order."

Luca looked down.

"I was still recovering when the initial investigation happened."

"And afterward?"

He didn't answer.

Ava laughed bitterly.

"That's what I thought."

I stepped forward.

"Ms. Price—"

She turned toward me.

"And you are?"

"Evelyn Varenna."

Her eyes narrowed.

"The new wife."

I nodded.

"I know you have no reason to trust us."

"That's correct."

"But we're here because we think your father was murdered."

The room went silent.

Ava's expression changed.

She looked at Luca.

"Say that again."

Luca met her eyes.

"I think the explosion was deliberately caused."

For the first time, Ava sat down.

She gestured toward the chairs opposite her desk.

"Then you'd better tell me everything."

For almost an hour, Luca explained what we'd discovered.

The altered medical diagnosis.

The hidden laboratory results.

The suspicious payments.

The trust restructuring.

His father's letter.

And the financial records connecting Matteo to Robert Sloane.

Ava listened carefully.

She asked precise questions.

She challenged assumptions.

And when Luca admitted his family had concealed business records for years, she didn't hide her anger.

"Your father could have helped my family."

Luca lowered his eyes.

"Yes."

"He could have told us what he suspected."

"Yes."

"He let us believe Owen died because of faulty equipment."

Luca swallowed.

"I know."

Ava stared at him.

Then she said, "And you?"

Luca looked up.

"Did you ever question the official report?"

He was silent.

I watched the struggle on his face.

Finally, he answered.

"Not enough."

Ava leaned back.

For a moment, I thought she would order us out.

Instead, she opened a drawer.

"My father wasn't a fool."

She removed a small metal case.

"Two days before the explosion, he told me he was worried about something at work."

My heart pounded.

"What?"

"He wouldn't give me details. He just said he'd discovered something he wasn't supposed to see."

She looked at Luca.

"He told me that if anything happened to him, I should contact a lawyer."

Luca nodded slowly.

"And?"

"After he died, a package arrived."

She placed the metal case on the desk.

"Inside was a storage device containing copied security recordings and a letter."

Luca leaned forward.

"Have you watched it?"

Ava nodded.

"More times than I can count."

"What's on it?"

"Enough to prove the official timeline was incomplete. But not enough, by itself, to prove who caused the explosion."

She opened the case.

Inside was a small digital drive.

"The recordings show a private vehicle entering the terminal through a restricted service entrance after the area was supposed to be closed."

"Whose vehicle?" I asked.

Ava looked at Luca.

"Robert Sloane."

The name settled over the room.

Luca's jaw tightened.

Ava continued.

"He was accompanied by another man. They entered a maintenance building that later became part of the investigation."

I felt cold.

"What did they do?"

"The camera angle doesn't show their activity inside. But they were there much longer than the official access records claim."

She folded her hands.

"I gave investigators a copy years ago. They said it established unauthorized access, not necessarily criminal intent. The original inquiry never developed enough evidence to bring charges."

Luca looked at the drive.

"And the payment records?"

Ava's eyes narrowed.

"What payments?"

Camille placed the relevant financial documents on the desk.

Ava read them carefully.

Then she read them again.

"Four hundred thousand dollars?"

Camille nodded.

"From a company controlled by Matteo Varenna. Transferred the day after the explosion."

Ava slowly sat back.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then tears began gathering in her eyes.

"I knew it."

Her voice broke.

"I knew there was something wrong."

I reached for her hand.

She hesitated.

Then allowed me to hold it.

"My mother died three years ago," Ava whispered. "She never stopped wondering whether somebody could have prevented what happened."

I felt tears gathering in my own eyes.

Ava looked at Luca.

"Your family destroyed mine."

Luca didn't defend himself.

Instead, he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head.

"Sorry doesn't bring him back."

"No."

"Sorry doesn't give my mother twelve more years with her husband."

"No."

"Then what are you offering me?"

Luca looked at her.

"The truth."

She stared at him.

"And cooperation with the people who can investigate it properly," he continued. "Even if that costs me the company."

For the first time, Ava's expression softened.

Not forgiveness.

Not yet.

But perhaps the beginning of trust.

She nodded.

"Then let's find out what happened to my father."

Over the next forty-eight hours, everything moved faster than I expected.

Camille arranged for Ava's recordings to be provided to the investigators reviewing the explosion.

The forensic accountants identified additional payments that had passed through companies connected to Matteo.

Daniel Keene supplied sworn testimony about the suppressed medical findings.

My mother gave another statement about the threats she had received in 2014 and the recent attempt to move her from the hospital.

Nico agreed to cooperate with the independent investigation into the trust.

And Luca authorized a full review of his own involvement in the family's businesses.

For the first time, the empire that had seemed untouchable began to shake.

But Matteo didn't disappear.

He fought back.

First came another article.

This one accused me of manipulating Luca through a pregnancy that hadn't been independently verified.

Then an attorney representing Matteo filed a petition challenging aspects of the trust administration and asking the court to delay the transfer of voting control.

The filing accused Luca of being emotionally compromised.

It suggested that his marriage had created a serious conflict of interest.

And it claimed that business stability required Matteo to remain in control.

I read the papers beside Luca in his study.

"He's saying you're unfit because you love your wife."

Luca gave a bitter smile.

"Apparently."

"And because I'm pregnant."

"Yes."

I stared at the document.

"What kind of man thinks having a family makes someone weak?"

Luca looked at me.

"My uncle."

I shook my head.

"He's wrong."

Luca pulled me onto his lap.

"I know."

I rested my forehead against his.

For a moment, we forgot the lawyers.

The investigators.

The threatening messages.

We were simply a husband and wife sitting together in the quiet.

Then Luca touched my stomach.

"How's our little one?"

I smiled.

"Still making me hate the smell of seafood."

He laughed.

"I've ordered the kitchen to stop serving it."

"You cannot ban seafood from the entire house."

"I can do whatever I want."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

He smiled.

"Except make you stop arguing with me."

"Good answer."

He kissed me.

And for a moment, the world felt safe.

That evening, Luca asked me to join him in the garden.

It was cold.

The November air smelled of wet leaves and distant chimney smoke.

He'd arranged a small table beneath the covered terrace.

Two cups of peppermint tea waited beside a plate of crackers.

I smiled.

"Very romantic."

"I was told pregnant women sometimes prefer plain food."

"By whom?"

"Three doctors and a rather judgmental search engine."

I laughed.

Luca pulled out my chair.

We sat looking over the dark garden.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

Then he reached into his coat.

He removed a folded document.

My heart tightened.

"What is that?"

"Our marriage agreement."

I stared at it.

The contract.

The piece of paper that had brought us together.

The document that said neither of us expected love.

The document that excluded children.

The document Matteo was now trying to use against us.

Luca placed it on the table.

"I've been thinking about this for days."

I looked at him.

"When we married, I told you I needed a wife and you needed financial security."

I nodded.

"That was true."

"At the time."

He paused.

"But it isn't why I want you here now."

My throat tightened.

"Luca."

He took my hand.

"I don't want you staying because I paid your mother's medical bills."

Tears filled my eyes.

"I don't want you staying because you signed a contract."

He swallowed.

"And I don't want you staying because you're pregnant."

I stared at him.

He continued.

"I want you here because I love you."

The words were so quiet that I almost didn't hear them.

For a moment, the entire world seemed to stop.

Luca Varenna.

The man who had once told me love wasn't part of our marriage.

The man who had spent twelve years believing he could never have a family.

The man who was now risking everything to tell the truth.

He loved me.

"I love you," he repeated.

Then he placed another document beside the original agreement.

"Camille prepared this."

I looked down.

It was a release of the personal contractual obligations and financial conditions that had governed our marriage.

The medical payments for my mother had already been secured separately.

My right to leave was unaffected.

No penalty.

No repayment.

No conditions tied to the pregnancy.

I looked at Luca.

"You're letting me go?"

His expression softened.

"I'm making sure you know you can."

My eyes filled with tears.

"I don't want to go."

He smiled sadly.

"Then stay because you want to."

I reached across the table and took his face between my hands.

"I fell in love with you before I knew I was pregnant."

He closed his eyes.

"I fell in love with you the night you fell asleep in the kitchen waiting for news about your mother."

I stared at him.

"You were there?"

He nodded.

"You looked so exhausted. I covered you with a blanket, and you reached for my hand without waking up."

I remembered that night.

I'd woken the next morning beneath a warm blanket, with a cup of tea beside me.

I'd assumed one of the housekeepers had brought it.

Luca smiled.

"I sat there for two hours because I didn't want to move and wake you."

A sob escaped me.

He reached for me.

I moved into his arms.

And beneath the cold November sky, I told him the truth.

"I don't want another contract, Luca."

"Neither do I."

"I want a real marriage."

"So do I."

"Even if we lose the money?"

"Yes."

"Even if your family turns against us?"

"Yes."

I rested my forehead against his.

"Then we start over."

He kissed me.

And for the first time since our wedding, I felt completely free.

The next morning, our fragile peace shattered.

Jonah entered the breakfast room while Luca and I were eating.

His face was pale.

"Boss."

Luca looked up.

"What happened?"

"There's been a fire."

My stomach dropped.

"Where?"

"At an off-site storage facility used by one of the companies connected to the original terminal investigation."

Luca stood.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"One employee was injured. Emergency crews are on scene."

"Do we know the cause?"

"Not yet."

Camille arrived moments later.

She was carrying her phone and looked furious.

"The records we requested yesterday were scheduled to be retrieved from that facility this morning."

Luca's expression darkened.

"Which records?"

"Original financial archives from North Harbor Administrative Services."

I felt cold.

Matteo's company.

The same company that had paid my mother to stay silent.

The same company connected to Robert Sloane.

The same company suspected of hiding millions of dollars in questionable transactions.

I looked at Luca.

"Someone's destroying the evidence."

Camille nodded grimly.

"That's a possibility. Investigators will need to determine what happened."

Then her phone rang.

She answered.

For several seconds, she listened without speaking.

Her expression grew increasingly tense.

When she ended the call, she looked directly at Luca.

"Matteo has called an emergency trustees' meeting."

Luca's jaw tightened.

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"For what purpose?"

Camille took a breath.

"To approve the permanent restructuring of the family holding trust."

I stared at her.

"But he needs Luca's agreement."

"Yes."

Luca's face turned cold.

"Then why would he call the meeting?"

Camille hesitated.

"Because he's filed an emergency request asking the court to restrict Luca's ability to exercise certain beneficiary rights while the accusations against him are reviewed."

My heart pounded.

"What accusations?"

Camille looked at me.

"His attorney has submitted a new allegation."

Luca stepped forward.

"What?"

Camille's voice was grim.

"Matteo claims Evelyn's pregnancy is part of a deliberate scheme to obtain control of the family fortune."

The room went silent.

Then she added the detail that made my blood run cold.

"He's attached what he says is a signed statement from Evelyn."

I stared at her.

"What?"

Camille turned the phone toward me.

There was a document on the screen.

At the bottom was my name.

Evelyn Varenna.

Written in handwriting that looked almost exactly like mine.

The statement claimed I had knowingly misrepresented the baby's paternity.

It even claimed Luca had been aware of the deception.

I could barely breathe.

"I never signed that."

Luca took the phone.

His expression became utterly still.

Camille nodded.

"I believe you."

I stared at the false signature.

Someone had copied my handwriting.

Someone had created a document meant to destroy my credibility.

And tomorrow, twenty powerful men would gather to decide whether the future of the Varenna empire belonged to my husband or the uncle who had lied to him for twelve years.

I looked at Luca.

"What are we going to do?"

He placed the phone on the table.

Then took my hand.

"We're going to let him make his case."

I stared at him.

"Why?"