The pregnancy test sits on the marble counter like a loaded gun. Two pink lines. Marco's hands shake as he lights another cigarette. You sleep upstairs, unaware he's seen what you tried to hide. Twenty years of blood on his hands. And now there's something more precious than his own life growing inside you. The stairs creak. You appear in silk, hand on your stomach. He nods at your questioning look. You move to him, fingers tracing the scar along his jaw. "You should run," he whispers. Your hand guides his to your stomach. "I'll kill anyone who threatens you," he says against your lips. "Die before I let this world touch what we've created." But late at night, when you're sleeping, he'll wonder if the greatest threat to your child is the man who made it.