Chapter 2
The cheerful hum of the baby shower masked the escalating tension between the couple, but the bright, cinematic lighting caught the sheer panic in Sofia’s eyes. Her breathing grew shallow as she tried to pull her arm away from her husband’s iron grip.
"Let go of me, Adrian," Sofia pleaded, her voice rising just enough to catch the attention of a nearby bodyguard. "I am in pain. If you don't let me go, I will scream."
"You are a hysterical liability," Evelyn muttered, stepping closer to block the view of the guests. "Adrian, handle your wife. Before she ruins this entire event."
"I am warning you, Sofia," Adrian growled, stepping directly into her personal space. His polished leather shoes squeaked slightly against the hardwood floor. "If you breathe a single word of our private business to your father, I will make sure you never see Noah again."
Sofia’s fair, rosy face twisted in a mixture of profound grief and sudden, defiant courage. She looked across the salon, locking eyes with Massimo, who was already beginning to stride toward them, sensing the hostility.
"He needs to know what you did," Sofia said, her voice shaking but resolute. "He needs to know what you forced me to do."
Adrian’s eyes widened with pure, unadulterated rage. He realized she was actually going to break her silence. The polished, expensive facade of the Mafia associate shattered completely, replaced by the violent, desperate panic of a cornered animal.
Without a fraction of a second's hesitation, Adrian suddenly drives his fist into Sofia’s eight-month pregnant belly.
The brutal, sickening sound of the impact was immediately followed by a sharp, horrific gasp from Sofia. She folds forward, her hands instinctively clutching her swollen stomach, and drops onto one knee before anyone at the baby shower can move. The elegant maternity dress pooled around her on the floor.
The bright video colors of the room seemed to freeze. The polite chatter of the white American guests died instantly, replaced by a collective, horrified intake of breath.
Adrian stood over his pregnant wife, his chest heaving, his face a mask of violent fury. He did not care about the audience; he only cared about silencing the threat to his life.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Adrian spat, his voice echoing fiercely in the suddenly dead-silent salon.
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"Sofia!" Massimo roared, his voice thunderous, tearing through the room with the force of a detonating bomb.
The capos and bodyguards instantly reached for the weapons concealed beneath their tailored jackets. The festive, airy atmosphere of the baby shower was violently ripped away, exposing the deadly, unforgiving reality of the Mafia underworld. The cinematic lighting cast sharp, terrifying shadows as the veteran boss lunged toward his bleeding daughter.
