Chapter 1

The Moretti family's speakeasy was hosting a private dinner party, and they were playing Two Truths and a Lie.

When it was Elena's turn—Elena, who'd grown up side by side with Dominic—she picked up her whiskey glass and launched right in:

"I've slept in Dominic's bed."

"I've worn Dominic's underwear."

"I'm carrying a Moretti child."

Everyone at the long table pointed to the third one as the lie.

So did I.

After all, I'd been with Dominic for seven years, and he'd always been adamant about not wanting an heir.

For him, I'd even let go of my own desire to have children.

But Dominic only said:

"The second one."

The back room went instantly silent.

Elena glanced at me, then quickly waved her hands.

"Claire, don't get the wrong idea—it was artificial insemination at a private clinic. We absolutely did not sleep together."

Dominic followed up just as smoothly.

"She doesn't want to get married. She just wanted a child of her own."

Elena grinned.

"We're allies, after all. Just borrowing a bit of bloodline."

I looked at Dominic.

So for seven years, when he said he didn't want children, he only meant he didn't want my children.

…

The back room stayed silent for a good few seconds.

Elena carried on as if nothing had happened, picking up her whiskey and taking a sip.

"What's with all the faces? We didn't sleep together."

Someone finally recovered enough to speak.

"Wait—you're actually pregnant with Dominic's child?"

"Yep."

Elena patted her still-flat stomach.

"Just found out yesterday. Two pink lines."

She said it like she'd won a scratch-off lottery ticket.

Dominic didn't explain either, just leaned back against the leather sofa, not a trace of guilt on his face.

Someone held it in for a while before finally asking:

"So what's the baby's last name going to be? Moretti or Rossi?"

"Rossi, obviously."

Elena's answer was decisive.

"I'm the one giving birth, I'm the one raising it. It's got nothing to do with Dominic."

A family member next to her laughed.

"The kid's got Moretti blood and it's got nothing to do with him?"

Elena rolled her eyes.

"He's just lending a bit of bloodline. It's not like I'm asking him to be my husband."

With that, she reached for her drink again.

Her hand hadn't even touched the rim before Dominic took the glass away.

"You just got pregnant—what are you doing drinking?"

"Just one sip."

"No."

Dominic pushed the soda water over to her.

"Did you take your prenatal vitamins today?"

Elena clicked her tongue.

"Yes, yes, I took them. You're worse than my mother."

I sat beside him without saying a word.

In seven years, the most Dominic had ever said about children was:

"I don't like kids."

And I'd always believed he genuinely had no interest.

But it turned out he knew pregnant women shouldn't drink. He remembered that prenatal vitamins couldn't be skipped even for a single day.

He was even more attentive than Elena herself.

Someone still hadn't recovered from the earlier bombshell.

"Hold on—what about private hospital registrations and insurance forms and all that? You're handling it alone?"

This time Elena laughed outright.

She set down her glass, fished two gold-embossed marriage licenses out of her bag, and slapped them on the table.

"That's why we went to City Hall today and got our licenses."

My mind went blank for a moment.

On the gold-embossed cover, the words Marriage License were perfectly clear.

Elena had already flipped one open. In the photo, Dominic was seated beside her.

The back room erupted.

"Holy shit, you two actually got marriage licenses?"

"You're really going that far?"

Elena waved it off.

"It's just to make things easier for the private hospital and insurance paperwork later. Once the baby's born, we dissolve the marriage."

She even lifted her chin toward me.

"Claire, don't mind it—just lending him to me for a few months. Once the baby arrives, I'll give him right back."

I said nothing.

Dominic finally turned his face toward me.

"That's just how she talks. Don't take it seriously."

I asked him:

"You went to City Hall and registered?"

"Yeah."

"When did you decide this?"

"A few days ago."

He said it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Like it was just a minor matter that didn't warrant specifically informing me.

Someone finally remembered something and looked at me.

"So what about your wedding next month?"

Dominic didn't even pause.

"Goes ahead as planned."

"We'll have the wedding first; the license will just come a bit later."

I looked up.

Dominic continued:

"Once Elena gives birth, we'll get the divorce papers done, and then I'll go to City Hall with you to register."

Elena chimed in with a grin.

"It's only a few months later. You two have been together seven years—what's a little more time?"

Someone at the table cracked a joke, said that worked fine.

But I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all.

I'd waited seven years and never gotten that marriage license.

And Elena just wanted to have a baby, and she got one today.

After the party broke up, Dominic drove me home.

The entire ride, he didn't bring up what had happened.

At my door, he pulled a brown paper envelope from the car.

"Perfect timing—the family lawyer finished revising the prenup."

He flipped to the page that needed my signature.

"Take a look. If everything's fine, sign it."

I scanned down the page.

One line still stood out starkly:

Both parties voluntarily agree not to have children. After marriage, neither biological reproduction nor adoption of any heir shall occur.

I looked at the pen.

I didn't take it.

So he already had a child.

And yet he still wanted me to spend a lifetime not having one.