An international culinary code sounds like a brilliant way to hide an illicit pregnancy—until the invoice arrives with an unexpectedly massive order.
A wealthy, high-profile businessman thought he was a criminal mastermind when his gorgeous Italian mistress whispered that she was expecting. Terrified of a ruined reputation and a catastrophic divorce, he immediately offered her a small fortune under two strict conditions: pack your bags for Rome, and raise the child in absolute secrecy. He also promised to faithfully bankroll the child support until the kid’s 18th birthday.
“But how will you know when the baby arrives?” she asked nervously.
To avoid any electronic paper trail, he hatched a clever scheme. “Just mail me a standard postcard,” he instructed. “On the back, simply write the word ‘Spaghetti.’ I’ll know exactly what it means and activate the monthly bank transfers.”
Nine months flew by. One evening, the businessman walked into his kitchen to find his wife staring intensely at a piece of international mail.
“Honey, this just arrived from Italy,” she murmured, thoroughly perplexed. “It’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”
Heart pounding, he swallowed his panic and snatched the card. “Oh, it’s probably just a travel advertisement from an old business contact. Let me handle it.”
He stepped away, flipped the card over, and froze. As his eyes scanned the elegant handwriting, the color drained completely from his face, his knees buckled, and he collapsed unconscious onto the kitchen floor.
The postcard read:
“Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. Two with meatballs, one without. Send extra sauce.”
