Episode 3

The silence in the room was deafening. My mind reeled, replaying every word Dante Morelli had said.

A marriage of convenience.

A contract.

Security for me and my children.

My gaze drifted to my still-soft belly, feeling the absence of my babies' weight. My chest tightened. I wanted to see them.

The door opened softly, and the same nurse from before entered with a gentle smile.

"Dear, the doctors have authorized your visit to the NICU. Would you like to see your babies now?"

My throat tightened with emotion. I nodded quickly, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Yes, please."

She brought a wheelchair, and with her help, I slowly got up. My legs were still weak, but the need to see my children gave me strength.

We traversed the white hospital corridors. The sound of footsteps, murmurs, and monitors filled the air, but everything seemed distant. My world narrowed to what I was about to see.

We reached the NICU, a brightly lit space with incubators lined up in rows. My eyes scanned the room until the nurse pointed to two small incubators side by side.

"Here are your babies."

My lips trembled as I saw them for the first time.

Two tiny bundles, connected to wires and monitors, with pink skin and delicate features. My heart clenched in my chest.

"May I touch them?" my voice came out as a whisper.

The nurse smiled.

"Of course. But carefully, they are still very fragile."

My fingers trembled as I touched my older son's tiny hand. He wiggled his minuscule fingers, as if recognizing my touch. A silent tear streamed down my face.

"Hi, my loves…" my voice broke, thick with emotion. "Mommy's here."

My daughter, the smaller one, stirred slightly, as if responding.

"They are strong. They're reacting very well, considering they were born prematurely." The nurse reassured me.

I wanted to hug them, hold them, never let them go. But in that moment, I realized something:

I had nothing to offer them.

No home. No guarantee of safety.

My only alternative was a marriage I didn't want.

Or did I?

"What names will you give them?" the nurse asked gently.

I took a deep breath, still caressing the little ones.

"Bella and Bento."

"They're beautiful."

I nodded, without taking my eyes off them. I needed to protect them.

And perhaps that meant accepting Dante's proposal.

A few hours later, back in my room, my mind wouldn't stop working.

What did I know about Dante Morelli?

Well, the only thing I knew about him was what I read in magazines. Even though my parents had always belonged to a high social class, nothing compared to the empire the Morelli family had built.

Dante Morelli is known as the king of financial industries. I remembered reports saying that everything he touched turned to gold, as if he were a modern Midas. But his personal life? That was a mystery. The only thing I knew, and that everyone commented on, was his obsession with control and work. He was 35, but he seemed older, as if the weight of his responsibilities had aged his soul.

And me?

I was a recent graduate, kicked out of my home, penniless, with two lives depending on me.

It was either this or back to the streets with two newborns.

A weary sigh escaped my lips as the room door opened.

Dante entered, impeccable as always, wearing a dark suit. His eyes analyzed my expression before he approached.

"Have you made a decision?"

I bit my lower lip.

"I want some conditions."

He raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

"Name them."

I swallowed hard.

"I want my children to be registered under my name only."