THE ITALIAN'S FUGITIVE WIFE AND SECRET BABY

'S POINT

m while intermittently throwing his tiny legs upwards. Anything to

mall as he dominated it with his form.

back with me to Italy, right?" He suddenly as

't come out as a question like it w

I do not want to g

esh and blood is enough atrocity committed by you, do not add to the li

s bee and I looked away in guilt, memor

*****

red lines, while I sat on the water cistern. I was indee

s ago. The wedding was graced by the crème Dela crème of Italy, and it's sundry as everyone marv

sited the restaurant I worked in. I had just resumed as a waitress and was asked to

my whole life; hence I was shocked and curious when, after their m

two months later without proper courtship. All that ma

washed my hands before walking out to the room. I will wait as he will soon be

ar his car driving into the compound. My wait was not futile, as the sou

ing out of the car as the evening sun cast an orange glow on his masculine, h

his gray suit did a poor job hiding. I still couldn't believ

rla In Rosa perfume he got me. Sporadically spraying it on sensitive parts of my body, I too

rned a hue of color as I remembered the night he

erie as I realized I was close to the study door. I was ab

a son, so father can will the proper

I retraced my footsteps back to m

after me. Did he marry me only because he required an heir and not because h

maker and had no special place in his life? Was

would become of me if the baby finally arrived? Would he ann

side after his expectations had been met. It was a good thing he was not aware of my pregnan

t. I began to throw in things that I would be needing for my

realized the sun was gradually retiring for the day. I will stall until it is late. Alexandr

ape. Immediately, everywhere was dark, I to

to see if anyone was coming behind me. Satisfied that the coast was clear,

ht by the light. Soon, I was at the gate. It seemed the heavens were supporting my ca

history as that marked my escape from Italy, aw

at I inform his father of his birth, I turned a deaf ear. He was my son,

hed bathing and feeding Alexandro Jnr and I was about to g

ds the door with the grocery bag in hand. I opened the d

a frown. A soft scream of terror left my throat as I attempte

said defiantly, and reluctan

ettling his massive form on the couch. Our little scu

nd settled Jnr in my arms as I brought out my breas

back with me to Italy, right?" He suddenly as