She Was Forced to Marry a Mafia Boss Who Could Never Have Children, but Months Later Her Sudden Collapse Exposed the Lie His Own Family Had Buried for Years

Six months later.

Spring had transformed the DeLuca estate into a paradise of green hills, blooming dogwood trees, and warm sunshine.

Madeline sat on a wide wooden bench in the newly restored rose garden behind the main manor. She wore a simple white sundress, her chestnut hair falling softly over her shoulders. Her stomach was now beautifully, roundly swollen at seven months pregnant.

Beside her sat a stack of antique restoration catalogues, but she wasn't reading them. She was watching her husband.

Adrian had shed his customary dark suits for a simple grey linen shirt and trousers. He was kneeling on the grass nearby, assembling a custom wooden crib that he had insisted on building with his own hands—using the woodworking tools Madeline’s father had left behind.

"You're putting that spindle in backward, boss," Madeline teased softly, sipping her cold lemonade.

Adrian stopped his hand plane, looking up at her with a mock glare. "I am a master of logistics and security, woman. I know how to build a crib."

"Your logistics are fine," Madeline laughed, walking over to him, her hand resting over her heavy bump. "But your carpenter skills need work. Here, let me see."

She knelt beside him in the grass. Adrian immediately set his tools down, shifting his broad frame so he could support her back, ensuring she was comfortable.

He reached out, resting his large, calloused palm over her stomach. As if on cue, the baby gave a firm, energetic kick right against Adrian’s hand.

Adrian’s breath hitched, a look of pure, unadulterated awe washing over his handsome face—a look that never failed to make Madeline’s heart melt.

"He's active today," Adrian whispered, his eyes locked on her belly.

"He knows his father is making noise," Madeline smiled, placing her hand over his.

Adrian looked up into her brown eyes, his expression turning deep, intense, and profoundly gentle. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her lips.

"I spoke with the attorneys this morning," Adrian murmured against her skin.

Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Oh? About our original contract?"

"I burned it," Adrian revealed softly.

Madeline blinked, surprised. "You burned it?"

"The contract expired the moment I fell in love with you," Adrian said, his dark eyes shining with absolute sincerity. "Everything I own—the estate, the security firm, the land—has been placed into a joint trust under your name and our son's name. You are my wife, Madeline. Not for eighteen months. For the rest of my life."

Madeline felt tears of joy welling up in her eyes. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his broad neck, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss that tasted of sunshine, warm spring air, and absolute devotion.