I was sitting on the porch, humming a tune while arranging a bouquet of daisies. Life had been simple, quiet. The bump in my stomach reminded me of the small miracle I was carrying. But as I looked at Jenny, the blood drained from my face.
“What is it?” I asked cautiously, my hands stilling.
She thrust the newspaper into my hands, and I unrolled it. My eyes locked onto the headline: “Serena De Santis-Russo and Antonio Russo Announce Pregnancy on Fifth Wedding Anniversary.”
My heart sank. Antonio Russo? My mind refused to connect the dots, but my eyes betrayed me. Right there, smiling like he hadn’t shattered my world, was Paolo—no, Antonio—standing beside an elegant woman, her hand resting on her small, but noticeable baby bump.
“No...” My voice cracked as I staggered back, the newspaper slipping from my hands. “This can’t be real.”
Jenny’s hand gripped my arm. “I tried to tell you, Alicia. I went to the city and dug around. Paolo—Antonio—he’s not who he said he was. He’s married. He’s part of the De Santis family. You… you were just a distraction.”