Second Marriage, The Billionaire's Planned Love novel Chapter 139

139 Chapter 139 Growing Secret

Ivy’s POV

The weekend stretched endlessly before me like a minefield I had to navigate alone. My mind felt fractured, thoughts scattered in every direction as I tried to make sense of what was happening to my body and my place in this violent underworld.

Sunday afternoon, I gathered my closest allies at my fortified apartment in the family compound. The weight of my secret pressed against my chest as I looked at their expectant faces. When I finally told them about the pregnancy, chaos erupted in the most heartwarming way possible. Zoe, Ruby, and the other wives immediately launched into a heated debate about who would earn the coveted title of godmother.

“I’m already Max’s godmother, so I’m obviously disqualified,” Zoe announced with mock disappointment, which only intensified the competition among the others in our tight–knit sisterhood.

“Ruby, I need you to promise me something,” I said, my voice carrying the gravity that came with living in our dangerous world. “Don’t tell Parker yet. I want to handle that conversation myself when the time is right.”

They all nodded solemnly, understanding the delicate politics of keeping information from other family heads, even allied ones.

Monday morning hit me like a freight train loaded with concrete blocks. Every muscle in my body felt heavy, and an overwhelming fatigue seemed to seep into my bones. I could barely keep my eyes open as I sat at my desk in the Thorne Group offices, trying to focus on the laundered transaction reports in front of me.

“Ivy, wake up,” Xavier’s gentle voice cut through the fog in my brain. “Come on, you need to lie down on the couch in my office.”

I lifted my head from where it had been resting on my desk, blinking in confusion at the consigliere’s concerned face. “What happened?”

“You were sleeping at your desk again. I think I should give you some time off,” he said, genuine worry evident in his voice as he studied my pale complexion.

“I fell asleep?” The realization hit me with a wave of irritation. “I think I’m having a really severe stress crisis from all the family politics.”

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Xavier knew better, of course. The way he looked at me told me he suspected exactly what was wrong, especially after Caleb had spotted me at the private clinic on Saturday.

“I think you should see our family doctor, Ivy. I’m starting to worry about you. You’re so pale lately. Could this be anemia? Are you eating properly?” Xavier extended his arm to help me stand, and I gratefully accepted the support as dizziness washed over me.

“Actually, Xavier, I can barely keep anything down. I’ve already lost several pounds,” I admitted, leaning against his shoulder for stability. But the moment I got close, a wave of nausea hit me, and I jerked away abruptly. “Oh my god, Xavier, what is that smell?”

“Smell? What smell?” He lifted his arm, sniffing himself with genuine confusion. “It’s just my cologne, Ivy. The same one I wear every day.”

“No, it’s not the same! It’s way too strong!” I said, making a disgusted face that I

couldn’t control.

“Wow, friend, what an ugly expression,” Gemma teased as she walked into the room and caught sight of my horrified look. As one of the capo’s wives, she had learned to find humor even in our deadly serious world.

“She said I smell terrible, Gemma!” Xavier said with an exaggerated pout.

“That’s impossible! You’re the best–smelling consigliere I know. Your cologne is even better than Dominic’s. Let me investigate.” Gemma proceeded to sniff around Xavier like a detective searching for clues. “No, you smell absolutely delicious.”

“You don’t find it overwhelmingly strong? Nauseating?” I insisted, still fighting the urge to gag.

“Friend, it must be because you haven’t been eating properly and your senses are getting hypersensitive,” Gemma said diplomatically, trying to mediate the situation with the wisdom that came from surviving years in mafia families.

“Come on, lie down in my office for a while, and I’ll order something for you to eat. Something really appetizing,” Xavier said, treating me like precious cargo that needed careful handling. “What sounds good to you?”

“Chocolate cake!” The words tumbled out of my mouth with surprising enthusiasm, my eyes practically sparkling at the thought.

Xavier left the room chuckling at my sudden excitement. Gemma instructed me to

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rest because I looked incredibly weak, then followed him out. Some time later, I woke up alone with a perfect slice of chocolate cake waiting for me. I sat up and demolished that cake with an intensity that surprised even me.

After washing my face in the bathroom, I found Gemma at her desk and asked her to join me for coffee in our secure break room.

“Did you eat the cake?” she asked, studying my face with the sharp eye of someone trained to spot weakness in our unforgiving world.

“Yes, I devoured it. I’ve been really exhausted lately, Gemma. Xavier mentioned giving me a few days off and I think I should accept. It might be beneficial until things stabilize.”

“Maybe that’s wise. The leadership suspects something serious is happening with you,” Gemma warned me carefully. “All the capos have been asking me questions.”

“Damn it! Last time I didn’t experience anything like this. Now it feels like I’m dying,” I said with a frustrated pout.

“My mom always said every pregnancy is completely different,” Gemma laughed knowingly, her voice dropping to ensure our conversation remained private.

“Sweetie, how are you feeling?” Katelyn appeared in the break room and immediately inquired about my wellbeing with the maternal concern of someone who had survived decades in this brutal business.

“Not very well, Katelyn,” I replied honestly.

“Would you like me to get you anything special?” she offered kindly.

“No, thank you.”

“You really need to see our family doctor, and soon,” Katelyn said before leaving the break room with a worried expression that spoke to genuine care beneath her hardened exterior.

I returned to my office, but it wasn’t long before Caleb appeared in my doorway, his commanding presence filling the entire space like a storm cloud.

“My angel, how are you feeling?” He knelt beside my chair and asked with genuine concern that seemed to contradict his reputation as a ruthless don.

“Just perfectly fine, thank you!” I replied with deliberate coldness.

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“You’re not fine, Ivy. If you were fine, you wouldn’t have needed to visit the clinic. Tell me what’s wrong because I’m worried about you,” he insisted, his piercing blue eyes searching my face for answers.

“You should worry about your precious fiancee instead,” I replied grumpily, and suddenly tears started flowing down my cheeks. These damn hormones were going to be the death of me in this deadly game we all played.

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