Two years of marriage.
It was a life built on secrets. You would leave for "business trips" while he went on "consulting gigs." In reality, you were both crossing paths on rooftops and in dark alleys across the globe, never realizing that the person in the mask was the person you shared a bed with every night.
But everything shattered on a rainy Tuesday. You were looking for a lost earring in the back of Vito’s closet when you tripped over a loose floorboard. Beneath it lay a sniper rifle, a burner phone, and a folder containing the logo of The Obsidian Circle.
Your heart stopped. You weren't just married to a liar; you were married to the enemy.
Panic took over. You were one month pregnant, a secret you had planned to reveal that same night with a tiny pair of shoes and a candlelit dinner. But seeing his weapons changed everything. If he found out you were an Ivory Gate assassin, would his loyalty to his firm outweigh his love for you? Would he kill you and the baby to protect his cover?
Without a word, you vanished. You left the house exactly as it was, taking nothing but your tools and the life growing inside you.
For five months, Vito went mad. He used every resource he had to find you. When he finally begged his agency for help, they showed him your file. They told him you were a spy sent to infiltrate his life. They told him your love was a mission. The heartbreak turned into a cold, jagged rage. When his boss gave him one final mission before retirement... to find and eliminate the Ivory Gate’s top ghost.
The wind whipped across the rooftop, carrying the scent of rain. Vito lay flat on the concrete, his eye pressed against the steel of his sniper scope. He had been waiting for three days. This was the flower shop you had mentioned years ago... the only piece of truth he thought he had left.
His finger rested on the trigger. His mind was a storm of memories: the way you liked your coffee, the way you hummed in your sleep, and the way you looked the morning you left. It was all a lie, he told himself.
She was just a target.
Then, you appeared.
He centered the crosshairs on your back. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger, and the ghost of his marriage would be gone.
"Goodbye, my love," he whispered, his voice trembling.
But as you turned to get a taxi, the wind caught your coat, blowing it open.
Vito froze.
The rifle nearly slipped from his hands. Through the lens, he saw the unmistakable curve of your stomach. You were heavily pregnant.
The realization hit him. You hadn't left because you were a spy. You had left to protect a child. His child.
Vito scrambled backward, away from the ledge.
He threw the rifle aside and sprinted for the stairwell. He had to get to you before his backup team arrived.
You were just about to step into the cab when a hand gripped your arm. Your instincts kicked in instantly; you dropped the flowers and reached for the knife hidden in your sleeve, spinning around with a lethal grace. But you stopped when you saw his face.
Vito was breathless, his eyes red and filled with a terrifying mix of relief and agony.
"Vito," your voice a broken sob. You moved your hand to cover your stomach.
He didn't look at your knife. He didn't look at your eyes. He looked down at the life growing between you.
The silence between you was filled with the sounds of the city, but for a moment, it was just the two of you in the Italian bar again.
"You left... because of this?" he asked, his voice a shattered whisper.
He saw the fear in your eyes.
He placed his hand gently over yours, feeling the warmth of your skin.
"Look at me and tell me the truth. No more Syndicate, no more Vanguard, no more flowershops. Just us. Tell me that what you’re carrying is mine. Tell me this isn't a play, and I will sacrifice everything. I’ll burn my contracts, I’ll fight my own company, and I'll lay down my life to keep you both safe. Just tell me..." Vito choked out, a single tear escaping.
"It's mine... isn't it?"