Vincenzo sat in his office, scrolling through the stack of documents in front of him. The deal was critical; every detail had to align perfectly. His brow furrowed in concentration, the room cloaked in silence. He'd been working on this project for weeks, knowing it could change everything for his organization. Suddenly, a soft knock broke the silence.
"Who is it?" he asked, his tone sharp and focused.
"It's… it's me," a familiar voice replied, though it was softer than usual, strained, almost… fragile.
He stood up immediately. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Vanessa stepped inside. At once, he knew something was wrong. Her usually vibrant complexion was pale, her shoulders slightly slumped. The light in her eyes seemed dimmed by an invisible weight.
"Are you alright?" he asked, crossing the room toward her, his eyes studying her face intently.
She gave him a faint, half-hearted smile but quickly looked away, her hand instinctively brushing over her stomach. "I… I don't feel well, Vincenzo. I think I'm coming down with something."
Concern flashed in his eyes. He reached out, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Come here," he said softly, pulling her into an embrace. Her hands gripped his shirt, but her grip was weak, almost shaky.
"Maybe you should sit down—" he began, but Vanessa suddenly pulled away, her face paling even more.
"Excuse me…" she murmured, brushing past him as she hurried to the washroom. Vincenzo followed her, his heart pounding with worry.
Inside, he heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Every sound tightened a knot of helplessness in his chest. After a moment, he moved to the door, pausing just outside.
"Vanessa?" he called, his voice soft but filled with concern. "Can I come in? Do you need any help?"
There was a long silence before the door opened a crack, and she finally emerged, looking even more fragile than before. She leaned against the door frame, her body trembling, her hand covering her mouth.
"I... don't know what's happening," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I feel so sick, like my stomach's turned inside out…"
He reached out, his hand guiding her gently but firmly to the couch in his office. She sank into it, and he knelt beside her, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. Her usually warm, vibrant presence felt dim, and seeing her like this stirred something fierce within him—a need to protect, to make whatever this was go away.
"You should've told me sooner," he murmured, his gaze softening, full of worry. "You don't have to face this alone, Vanessa. Nothing in the world is more important than you."
Vanessa looked up, guilt flickering in her tired eyes. Her hand trembled as she placed it over his. "I… didn't want to bother you. This deal… it's important, and I didn't want to distract you."
Vincenzo's gaze never wavered. "Forget the deal," he said, his tone steady and full of resolve. "I'd give up any deal if it meant keeping you safe."
She hesitated for a moment, her other hand briefly brushing her stomach again—a small, almost subconscious gesture he didn't miss.
"Vanessa," he said softly, his tone shifting to one of quiet insistence. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Her lips parted, but before she could respond, another wave of nausea hit her. Her hand clutched his arm, holding on as her body trembled.
Seeing her like this, so vulnerable, so in need, stirred something deeper in Vincenzo. He wasn't one to show fear, but the sight of her suffering made him feel both helpless and fiercely protective. He pulled out his phone without hesitation.
"I'm calling the doctor," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This isn't just a passing sickness, Vanessa. I need to make sure you're alright."
"Vincenzo…" she murmured, her voice trailing off. Her hand still lingered over her stomach, and for a fleeting moment, something like a shadow of realization passed across his features.
"Vanessa," he started, his voice quieter now, "you can trust me."
She looked at him, the intensity in his gaze easing some of her fears. But before she could reply, exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she leaned into him, her head resting against his chest.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in silence. Vincenzo's fingers traced comforting patterns along her shoulder as he whispered reassurances, his voice soft, almost a murmur.
"Just rest," he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "The doctor will be here soon, and we'll figure this out together. You're not alone in this."
Vanessa closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his presence wash over her. In that moment, she knew she was safe with him. Whatever the cause of this sudden illness—this life growing within whatever stomach was coming she wouldn't face it alone