88The Curvy Nanny Hid Her Pregnancy for Months—Until the Mafia Don Found the Ultrasound

Two weeks passed inside the golden cage of the master suite.

Norah was not locked in her room, but she was never truly alone. Wherever she walked—whether to the glass conservatory to read, or down to the playroom to spend time with Lily—two silent, armed guards followed precisely ten paces behind her.

Her relationship with Lily had become a complex terrain of emotion. The little girl was thrilled that "Nora was staying in the big room now," entirely oblivious to the dark web of mafia politics tightening around them.

"Is there a baby in there?" Lily asked one afternoon, pointing her small, crayon-stained finger at Norah’s belly as they sat on the playroom floor.

Norah looked up, her heart catching in her throat. She looked at the two guards standing by the doorway, then back at the little girl.

"Yes, Bug," Norah said softly, smiling despite herself. "There's a baby."

"Is it a sister?" Lily demanded, her dark eyes shining.

"I don't know yet," Norah admitted, gently stroking Lily’s dark hair. "We’ll find out soon."

"I want a sister," Lily declared firmly. "So I can teach her how to draw dragons."

From the doorway, a low voice spoke up. "Dragons are acceptable. But only if they are green."

Dominic walked into the playroom. He had been working from his home office for two weeks straight, a rarity that Norah knew was directly tied to her presence. He wore a dark sweater and slacks, looking less like a ruthless mob boss and more like a protective father, though the gun holstered beneath his arm remained a constant reminder of reality.

Lily jumped up and ran to him. Dominic caught her easily, swinging her onto his hip. He looked over her shoulder at Norah, his slate-gray eyes softening just a fraction.

"Dr. Vance is downstairs," Dominic said. "It’s time for your bi-weekly checkup."

Norah stood up slowly, supporting her lower back with one hand. The baby had grown noticeably over the past fourteen days, no longer restricted by heavy, tight clothing. She wore a soft, cream-colored maternity dress that Dominic had ordered directly from Paris. It was elegant, comfortable, and made her feel exposed in ways she couldn't quite articulate.

They walked down to the private medical wing that Dominic had installed on the ground floor—a state-of-the-art facility that rivaled any top-tier hospital in the city.

Dr. Vance, a professional man in his fifties with a calm demeanor, performed the ultrasound while Dominic stood at the head of the table, his hand resting casually on the back of Norah’s examination chair.

"Everything looks excellent," Dr. Vance announced, pointing to the crisp image on the large monitor mounted on the wall. "Weight gain is optimal. Blood pressure is slightly elevated, but given the... circumstances, that is to be expected."

"The baby?" Dominic asked, his voice tight with an underlying anxiety that surprised Norah.

"Strong heartbeat. One hundred and forty-eight beats per minute," Dr. Vance smiled. "Would you two like to know the gender today? It’s very clear on the scan now."

Norah looked up at Dominic. For two weeks, she had fought him on everything. But looking at his face now, seeing the genuine, raw wonder in his eyes as he stared at the screen, a small part of her defense wall crumbled.

"Do you want to know?" she asked him softly.

Dominic looked down at her, his hand moving from the chair to gently cover her shoulder. "Only if you want to, Norah."

Norah took a soft breath. "Tell us, Doctor."

Dr. Vance adjusted the transducer wand slightly. "Congratulations, Mr. Russo, Miss Hayes. You’re having a boy."

A boy.

Norah’s breath hitched. A son. An heir.

She looked up at Dominic, expecting to see a cold, triumphant smirk on his face. Instead, she saw a single tear track down his rugged, bruised cheek before he quickly wiped it away with the back of his thumb.

He looked down at her, his eyes shining with an emotion so deep, so profound, that it terrified her far more than his anger ever had.