Vincent dragged Julian into the soundproof basement of the estate, determined to extract the names of every traitor inside his organization.

Norah was escorted up to the master suite, strictly confined to the safe zone while the violent interrogation took place below.

She tried to focus on reading a book, but her mind was completely overwhelmed by the brutal realities of her husband's world.

She walked into the adjoining master bathroom, splashing cold water onto her pale face to try and steady her racing heart.

As she looked in the mirror, a sudden, violent wave of nausea washed over her completely.

She gripped the edges of the marble vanity, her knuckles turning entirely white as the room began to spin dangerously.

It felt exactly like the terrible stomach flu she had suffered when she was a teenager, but infinitely heavier.

She stumbled out of the bathroom, collapsing onto the edge of the massive king-sized bed just as the bedroom doors opened.

Enzo rushed into the room, holding a silver tray with a glass of water and a small plate of dry crackers.

"The boss said you looked pale on the security cameras before the breach," Enzo explained, setting the tray down quickly.

"Are you hurt, Norah?" the massive bodyguard asked, his deep voice laced with genuine, protective concern.

Norah shook her head slowly, accepting the glass of water with trembling fingers.

"I am not hurt, Enzo, I just feel incredibly sick to my stomach, and I have been entirely exhausted all week," she confessed quietly.

Enzo froze completely, his dark eyes widening slightly as he stared at the young woman he had sworn to protect.

He had been guarding powerful, wealthy families for twenty years, and he recognized the symptoms immediately.

"Norah," Enzo started, his voice dropping to a low, almost reverent whisper. "When was the last time you saw a doctor?"

Norah blinked in confusion, setting the water glass back down on the silver tray.

"I haven't been sick since I moved here, why would I need a... oh," Norah gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

The realization hit her like a massive freight train, completely knocking the air out of her lungs.

She wasn't sick with a virus, and she hadn't been poisoned by Julian's assassins.

She was pregnant with the heir to the most dangerous mafia syndicate on the Eastern Seaboard.

Before she could even begin to process the overwhelming reality, Vincent burst into the bedroom.

His white shirt was heavily stained with Julian's blood, his face a dark, terrifying mask of absolute violence.

"He talked," Vincent growled, tossing a blood-soaked burner phone onto the heavy mahogany dresser.

"He has a heavily armed extraction team waiting at the shipping docks, and I am going to slaughter every single one of them."

Vincent stopped, finally noticing the absolute shock on Norah's pale face and the way Enzo was standing silently in the corner.

The terrifying mafia king instantly dropped his violent aura, rushing to the bed and falling to his knees in front of his wife.

"What is wrong? Did he hurt you before I broke the glass?" Vincent demanded frantically, checking her arms for injuries.

Norah looked down into the dark, desperate eyes of the ruthless killer who loved her more than life itself.

"I am completely unharmed, Vincent," Norah whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "But you are going to be a father."