Chapter 6
Lily’s POV
After Martha left, Nathan followed, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder as he gave me a quiet nod. The door clicked shut, and I stood alone in my cramped Brooklyn apartment, the silence heavy. Why had Nathan, always so cold and distant, suddenly turned kind? His housekeeper, Martha, was warm, almost motherly, bustling around my kitchen like it was her own. For a fleeting moment, the Sullivan family—the mafia—didn’t feel so terrifying. But that moment passed, replaced by the memory of Nathan catching me when I slipped off the stool, his arms strong and steady in a princess carry. My heart had raced, not just from the fall but from him—his green eyes locking onto mine, his breath so close. I was drowning in anxiety about being pregnant, yet there I was, my heart stuttering for a man I barely knew, a man tied to a dangerous world.
I was only 21. I didn’t want to be pregnant. Nathan was the only man I’d been with, that drunken night three months ago when I was just another girl to him. If I was carrying his child—a Sullivan, a mafia heir—it terrified me. The weight of that fear, mixed with the confusing warmth I felt for Nathan, pulled me under as I curled up in bed and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
The next morning, I slipped into an inconspicuous drugstore in Brooklyn, my face half-hidden under a mask, sunglasses, and a beret. I looked ridiculous, I knew it, but my pride wouldn’t let me risk being recognized. My hands shook as I scanned the shelves of pregnancy tests, each box a silent accusation of my recklessness. My chest tightened, my breath shallow, as I reached for a digital test, then hesitated, grabbing a cheaper one too. What if one was wrong? My fingers fumbled, nearly knocking a box to the floor, and I glanced around, paranoid someone was watching.
“Need help, miss?” The clerk’s voice dripped with a knowing tone, her eyes flicking to the tests in my hand. She smirked, and I felt her judgment crawl over me like ants.
“No, thanks,” I mumbled, pulling my beret lower, my face burning. I wanted to snap back, to tell her to mind her own business, but I just shuffled to the next aisle, my heart pounding. I grabbed three tests—two digital, one strip—for good measure, my mind spiraling. What if I was pregnant? What would I do? I couldn’t afford a kid, couldn’t raise one in this crumbling apartment, couldn’t face Nathan with the truth.
At the counter, I slid the tests across, avoiding the clerk’s gaze. She scanned them slowly, her lips pursed, and I braced for another comment, but none came. I paid in a daze, my hands moving mechanically, shoving the receipt and tests into my bag without a word. It was like I wasn’t even there, just a ghost going through the motions.
Outside, I couldn’t wait. I needed to know now. I ducked into a nearby public restroom, the kind with flickering lights and graffiti-scarred walls. The world outside erupted into chaos—shouts, sirens, the sharp crack of gunshots. A robbery, maybe, or worse. My pulse raced, my hands shaking as I tore open the pregnancy test package, the plastic crinkling loudly in the quiet bathroom. I followed the instructions: I peed on the stick, careful to aim at the tip, and set it on the counter to wait for the result. But outside, the chaos erupted—shouts, footsteps pounding, and the crash of breaking glass. Fear gripped me, my stomach churning. I couldn’t wait for the lines to appear. With trembling fingers, I snapped the cap back on the test and shoved it deep into my bag, praying no one would find it.
I stumbled out, the street a mess of running people and flashing police lights. My bag bounced against my hip as I pushed through the crowd, my mind on the test hidden inside. Then I saw them—Joseph, the guy I’d spilled a drink on at Skyline weeks ago, with a young boy and a stoic man beside him.
“Miss, you okay?” the boy asked, his brown eyes wide with concern. Christopher, he said his name was.
I forced a smile, my hands gripping my bag. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Joseph stepped closer, recognizing me. “World’s a small place! You work at Sullivan’s Skyline Nightclub, right? I’m Joseph.”
“Lily,” I said softly, glancing away.
“I’m Christopher,” the boy chimed in, pointing to the man behind him. “That’s Tyler. But, miss, you crying?”
I touched my cheek, surprised to find it wet. I hadn’t even noticed. Joseph’s gaze dropped to the bag, where a corner of the test box peeked out. “You okay? Anything I can help with?”
“I’m not—” I started, but Christopher cut me off.
“She’s crying ’cause she’s pregnant!” he blurted, pointing at the test.
My face burned as nearby strangers glanced over. I wanted to disappear. Joseph cleared his throat, looking as embarrassed as I felt. “Sorry, Christopher’s a bit too honest sometimes.”
“I don’t want kids,” Christopher went on, oblivious. “You gotta do stuff to have ’em. I saw it on my brother’s computer, on a site called—”
“Christopher!” Joseph snapped, while Tyler smirked beside him.
I couldn’t help it—I laughed, the tension breaking for a moment. Joseph grinned. “Well, at least you’re smiling now.”
Christopher beamed, shrugging, and I shrugged back. I’d grown up in foster homes, surrounded by kids like him, all heart and no filter. I loved that about them.
Joseph’s voice softened. “You crying ’cause you might be pregnant?”
“No, I don’t even know if I am!” I said, too quickly, then cringed. “I mean… just in case.”
“Raising a kid’s a blessing,” he said, his eyes holding something deep, unreadable. “Even when it’s hard.”
“Can you keep this quiet?” I asked, my voice low. Joseph knew Nathan, and I couldn’t risk him finding out.
He studied me, then nodded. “Don’t know who I’d tell, but yeah, my lips are sealed.” He gave me a warm smile.
I met his gaze for a moment, then looked away, shy. “Thanks. I gotta go,” I said, patting Christopher’s head.
“Bye, miss!” he called as I hurried off.
I was almost to the subway when a hand grabbed my bag, yanking hard. A thief, his face half-covered by a hood, snarled as I clutched the strap, panic surging. “Let go!” I shouted, pulling back. The bag tore open, and the pregnancy test clattered to the pavement, its digital screen glaring up at me.
Two lines. Pregnant.
The thief froze, then bolted, leaving me staring at the test, my world collapsing under the weight of those two lines.