The garage fell silent for a moment.
After a long pause, Chloe finally pouted aggrievedly. "I was just making a joke, Don. Don't be mad."
Vincent scoffed coldly, adjusting his shirt collar. "You were the one who said you only wanted money and thrills, not a title. I've given you the best material things, but if you dare leak this to Mia and break the Family's rules, you know what it's like to be dumped in the ocean."
Chloe immediately took the hint and backed down, seductively pressing herself against him. "I'll do whatever you say."
Those sticky, wet sounds echoed again.
I couldn't listen to it anymore. I rolled up my window, slammed the gas, and reversed out of there.
On the way back, I finally couldn't suppress the churning in my stomach.
I slammed on the brakes, pulled over, pushed the door open, and puked my guts out.
Because I hadn't eaten anything all day, all that came up was stomach acid and bile.
Not only that, but a sudden, heavy cramp hit my lower abdomen, like a dull knife viciously twisting inside me. It hurt so much I broke out in a cold sweat, barely able to stand.
Finally, my vision went black, and I completely passed out.
When I woke up, the familiar smell of antiseptic from the private clinic filled my nose.
This clinic exclusively served the higher-ups of the Gambino Family.
Vincent was sitting by the bed, his eyes red from lack of sleep. Seeing me awake, he immediately grabbed my hand tightly. "Mia! How do you feel? The doctor said you passed out on the side of the road. What on earth happened?"
I instinctively pulled my hand back, not wanting to touch him.
Remembering the agonizing cramps before I fainted, I nervously looked at my trusted physician standing nearby. "Dr. Rossi, my condition..."
Dr. Rossi was an elder who had watched me grow up, and he had already caught my subtle eye signal.
He pushed up his glasses and said to Vincent without batting an eye, "Don, the Madam is simply under too much stress lately, coupled with acute gastroenteritis. She needs proper bed rest and cannot be subjected to any more shocks."
Vincent let out a sigh of relief, his face full of self-blame. "Baby, it's all my fault. Have I been too busy lately? I swear, I won't go anywhere for the next little while. I'll stay right here and keep you company."
As he was speaking, the hurried click-clack of high heels suddenly echoed from the hallway outside.
Vincent's phone rang at the same time. He glanced at it, his face drastically changing, and immediately got up and walked out.
I sneered inwardly, yanked the IV needle right out of the back of my hand, and followed him out at an unhurried pace.
At the corner of the hallway.
I watched with my own eyes as Chloe excitedly threw herself into Vincent's arms, arrogantly clutching a pregnancy test report in her hand.
"Vincent! I'm pregnant! I can't even remember how long it's been since my last period!"
My blood instantly dropped to the freezing point.
She's pregnant too?
Just then, Chloe looked over Vincent's shoulder and brazenly met my eyes. She deliberately raised her voice: "Oh, Madam, are you feeling any better?"
Vincent suddenly froze. He turned around, saw me, and his face went deathly pale.
He shoved Chloe away, so guilty his voice was trembling. "Mia, you... why are you out of bed?"
I coldly swept my gaze over the paper in her hand. "Why is Chloe here? Expecting some good news? Whose baby is it, and why isn't that all-powerful boyfriend of hers accompanying her?"
Chloe was just about to open her mouth.
Vincent beat her to the punch and interrupted her, speaking extremely fast: "She's pregnant, about eight weeks. It's... it's the baby of one of my men, Paolo. Paolo is currently hiding from the FBI's wanted list, so he asked me to look after her for a bit."
After he finished, he shot Chloe a vicious, almost murderous glare of warning.
