Three weeks had passed, and still there was no sign of her father.
A week became two, and two became three. No one heard a whisper, no message, not even a shadow of him. For the first time in months, the house was quiet — too quiet. The nights that once echoed with the hum of strategy and danger were now filled with peace.
Lorenzo had taken that silence as a gift. He used it to keep Elena close, to let her breathe again. But something about her started to change. She wasn't the same fierce woman he knew — the one who could point a gun without flinching.
At first, it was small things. She complained about the food. One morning, she pushed her plate away with a frown.
"This food tastes strange," she muttered.
The next day, she refused to eat entirely, claiming it smelled "too heavy."
She grew tired quickly, slept longer, and snapped at people for no reason. The staff had learned to walk carefully around her mood swings — one wrong look and she'd throw a pillow or glare until they disappeared.
Lorenzo, however, found it all… confusingly adorable.
Sometimes she'd burst into his office without knocking, her hair wild, eyes blazing — not with anger this time, but a strange craving.
"Lorenzo," she said one afternoon, leaning on his desk dramatically, "I want ice cream."
He blinked, halfway through a phone call, and dismissed whoever was on the line.
"You… came all the way here just for ice cream?"
"Yes!" she said, frowning like a child denied a toy. "Do you love me or not?"
Lorenzo blinked twice, then broke into laughter. "That's why you came all the way from home? For ice cream?"
The next second, she burst into tears. Real tears.
"You don't love me anymore! I came here because I missed you, and you're laughing at me!"
She turned and stormed out, wiping her tears dramatically as she went.
Lorenzo grabbed his jacket and ran after her, still laughing.
"Okay, okay! Let's go get you the ice cream, my crying queen."
She sniffled but smiled through her tears. "You promise?"
"I promise," he said, wiping the wet streaks off her cheeks.
They went out together, and she held his hand like a child, swinging it as they walked into the ice cream shop. Lorenzo watched her closely, confused but secretly amused. She ordered three scoops — vanilla, strawberry, and mango — and began talking nonstop while eating.
The problem was… none of it made sense.
She talked about her childhood, a cat that never existed, and a movie she'd never watched. Lorenzo just stared, half smiling, half worried, wondering if his woman had gone insane.
When they got back to his office, he gathered his files, pretending to work, while Elena stared at him and hummed some random song. He finally gave up and decided it was better to take her home.
Back at the house, Elena suddenly gasped.
"Where's the orange I left on the table before i left?"
Lorenzo froze mid-step. "…The orange?"
A maid hesitated. "Madam, I threw it away. I thought you were done with it."
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Elena's eyes widened, and then she started crying again — loud, messy crying.
"Why would you throw it away? That orange was mine! I wanted it back!"
Everyone stared at her in shock while Lorenzo tried not to laugh.
"Okay, baby, okay. I'll get you another orange. Luca!" he shouted.
Luca came running. "Yes, sir?"
"Get this crying lady an orange, please. Before she destroys my house."
"Yes, sir," Luca said, trying hard not to laugh.
Lorenzo knelt beside Elena, wiping her tears again. "See? He's going to bring you a new orange. Now smile for me, hmm?"
She blinked, then smiled shyly. "Okay."
Then, to everyone's amusement, she walked toward their room, twirling like a little girl.
Lorenzo chuckled. "My God… what did I fall in love with ?"
That night, the house finally quieted. But not for long.
At 3 a.m., Lorenzo was woken by a soft tap on his shoulder.
"Baby…" she whispered.
He groaned. "What is it, Elena?"
"I want fried rice with beef stew."
Lorenzo opened one eye, staring at her in disbelief. "It's three in the morning."
She pouted instantly, eyes welling up. "You don't love me anymore. I just want fried rice."
He sat up quickly, waving his hands. "No, no, no. Don't cry, okay? I'll tell them to make it right now."
She smiled instantly, hugging him like nothing had happened. "Thank you!"
Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're going to make me crazy."
Within minutes, the house lights were on, and the maids and guards were half-asleep in the kitchen cooking fried rice and beef stew. No one dared question her.
By morning, around 7 a.m., everyone was exhausted. Lorenzo was barely keeping his eyes open. Elena was laughing, eating happily — then suddenly stood up to stretch… and collapsed.
The bowl dropped. The room froze.
Lorenzo ran to her immediately, catching her before she hit the floor.
"Elena!" he yelled. "Call Moretti now!"
Within minutes, the doctor — and one of Lorenzo's most trusted men and their private physician — arrived with his case. He checked her pulse, blood pressure, and temperature, then asked a few quiet questions.
After a long silence, he looked up at Lorenzo and smiled slightly.
"Sir… she's fine. Just a little weak. But…" He paused, glancing at Elena, who was slowly waking up. "She's one month pregnant."
The room went dead silent. Lorenzo froze, staring at him. "Pregnant?"
"Yes," Moretti confirmed, smiling. "One month."
For a full minute, Lorenzo didn't move. His breath came out uneven, his chest rising and falling as the words sank in. Then he turned to Elena, who looked at him with sleepy confusion.
"Did I… faint?" she murmured.
He smiled — the kind of smile that came from deep relief. "You did. And you scared me to death, Elena."
She blinked, then frowned softly. "Why are you smiling then?"
"Because," Lorenzo whispered, brushing her hair away from her face, "you just gave me the best news of my life."
He kissed her forehead and held her close, his voice low but full of joy.
"No more stress, no more guns, no more danger. From today, everything you eat comes from my hands only. You don't lift a finger, you hear me? You're carrying our future."
Elena smiled faintly, still half asleep. "So… no more fried rice at 3 a.m.?"
He chuckled, pulling her close. "You can have all the fried rice you want, princess. Just don't scare me like that again."