That day’s food money came through. Two dollars. I stared at the number in disbelief.
“That’s not enough, Ms. Laurent. How am I supposed to eat on two dollars a day?”
Camilla sounded annoyed. “Mr. Moretti’s decision.”
“What?”
She gave a scornful laugh. “You helped yourself to a fortune without his permission, and he’s still giving you an allowance. What exactly are you complaining about?”
I froze. Since when was ten dollars a fortune to Sebastian?
Camilla went on, her voice thick with contempt. “You still don’t get it, do you? Sebastian stopped bringing you to events because he’s sick of the whispers. A Don’s wife should be an asset, not a liability. After dinner, those politicians whisper, ‘Moretti married a cow.’ And that’s putting it politely.”
She sighed theatrically. “Please, Ms. Hayes. At least try not to embarrass him.”
I could barely get the words out. “But I’m pregnant. How am I supposed to not gain weight?”
“Try eating less.”
Camilla hung up. I called her back several times, but she didn’t answer. Neither did Sebastian.
A breaking news bulletin interrupted the television program. Moretti Holdings, the legitimate empire built on decades of the crime family’s influence, had sent representatives to the annual Global Business Summit. Sebastian had arrived as the face of the family, with Camilla at his side.
Her custom designer gown looked as though it cost more than most people made in a year. Around her neck was a three-million-dollar necklace fresh from a Zurich auction house.
Within minutes of their arrival, social media exploded.
[Sebastian Moretti and Camilla Laurent are the new faces of the Moretti empire.]
[Mr. Moretti and the woman on his arm look like the ultimate power couple.]
[Camilla Laurent has serious star power. Put her next to a Hollywood A-lister and she’d hold her own.]
The comments kept pouring in.
[Tell me I’m not the only one who thinks she was born for this life.]
[Some people win the genetic lottery. Look at Camilla Laurent’s boobs, waist, ass. Those curves are insane.]
[She looks like a model. I look like I fought my gym membership and lost.]
My hands shook as I read the praise for her body. I rested a hand on my lower belly and studied my reflection. My cheeks were visibly hollow.
“Baby…” My voice trembled. “What are we going to do?”
Was I really going to bring my child into a family that cared so little? Before I made a decision, I’d give Sebastian one last chance.
I called once, then twice. He didn’t answer. By the tenth unanswered call, my chest felt crushed.
Then Camilla called. “Mr. Moretti is meeting with family associates. Ms. Hayes, could you use a little common sense and stop calling every five minutes?”
“Put him on.”
“As I already told you, he’s dealing with something important.”
“Then have him call me when he’s done.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes, but I’m the family accountant. Mr. Moretti’s work is vital to this family. My job is to keep him from being distracted by things that don’t matter.”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “This is my marriage. Keep track of his accounts and stop deciding whether what I have to say matters.”
Her voice hardened. “Keep this up, Ms. Hayes, and he really will divorce you.”
She hung up. When I tried again, my calls wouldn’t go through. I leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor.
My Venmo balance was two dollars. An abortion at the clinic cost eight hundred. My parents worked on a small farm in rural Georgia; after a whole day in the sun, they each barely brought home sixty dollars.
I stared at that two-dollar balance. For the first time, I realized how little I had left.