18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Lorenzo

She’s pregnant. With my child. My child.

Wow.

All my life, I’ve always known what I wanted. Power, loyalty from my men, control, peace. I never thought I would ever be so lucky as to get to have a family.

Of course I have my sister and I had my parents before they died, but we have always operated more as separate entities, doing our own thing. Even now, my sister is God knows where doing God knows what, although I’m sure Vincent knows exactly where she is and what she is doing.

But now, Daniella is pregnant with my child. It’s the last possible turn of events I could’ve imagined.

When she told me that she was pregnant, I assumed it was Jeremy’s. Of course that would not have stopped me from taking care of her or providing for her. But my child? My own flesh and blood? Fuck, that’s next level.

I look over at her. She is sitting all the way at the other end of the couch, as far away from me as she can get on the small piece of furniture and nursing a cup of chamomile tea. Her hair is piled on top of her head in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen and her face tear-streaked. She is fucking beautiful.

It’s almost adorable how she thinks she can get away from me now. Daniella’s fate was sealed the moment she conceived.

My chest feels like it could explode. I don’t know what it is I’m feeling, but it feels like there isn’t enough room in my body to contain it. All I know is that when I look at her, I feel that inexplicable sense of protection, possessiveness and the undeniable truth that I want her. I want every single piece of her. I want her to be wholly and completely mine.

The thought of another man having her, doing the things that I’ve done and still want to do to her, makes me sick with rage. What a ridiculous turn of events.

She still looks almost scared and unsettled. I can only imagine the hell she’s been through this week, being pregnant with my child while on the quest to avenge her lover. Does she hate me? Even as I think about it, the idea makes my stomach churn.

I don’t want her to hate me. I want her to look at me and smile, the way she smiled at me that first night, before she found out who I was. I want her to want me, even if it’s just a fraction of the way I want her. Maybe that’s too much to ask for.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters—not her feelings for or about me, her plans, none of it. Not anymore.

“You have to know I didn’t do this on purpose.” Her voice is soft and sounds more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard it. “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose for whatever nefarious reasons people do that.”

“It wouldn’t matter.” And it’s true. Even if this pregnancy turns out to be just another step in her revenge plans, it wouldn’t make any difference.

“I’ll have the house ready for you by tomorrow. Pack up everything you need from here. Whatever else you need or want will be provided.” My tone leaves no room for argument, but, of course, she still argues.

“What do you mean pack up?”

“I’m moving you to my house. You’ll be living there from now.”

“Woah, woah, I didn’t agree to any of that. I’m perfectly fine staying here.”

The hell she is. There’s no way I’m letting her raise this baby in the same house she shared with another man.

“I’m sure you are, but you’ll be safe at my house.”

“Lorenzo, I don’t want to move.”

“I understand. But you’re going to. Because like I said, I don’t let go of things that are mine.”

“I’m not a thing, you can’t just claim me as yours.”

She gets up, and the blanket falls off her body again. Her very delectable little body.

“Except I can, and I have.”

She sputters, and does it make me a jerk that I enjoy her frustration?

“You can’t! I’m not just going to become one of the mindless women in the Cosa Nostra.” Mindless? If only she knew.

“The women in the Cosa Nostra are the farthest things from mindless. This isn’t a 1950’s movie. Women have rights just like every other person,” I say, getting annoyed.

“Okay, but still, I have to work…”

“At my club.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t be with you all the time.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”

She sputters again, and I smile and get up.

“There are people we have pissed off, people who will want their own pound of flesh. I mean that in every literal sense. Do you know what they will do to you if they find out that you’re carrying my child—the heir to the Duretti empire?”

She turns white and I hate that I’m scaring her, but I need her to understand the gravity of the situation.

“I don’t either, and that uncertainty is not something I’m willing to risk.”

She deflates, and I hate myself. I take another step toward her.

“I’m hardly around. There are twelve rooms in the house. I share it with my sister, but she’s off traveling the world. None of my men live there. It’s my private sanctuary, and you’ll have it to yourself most of the time. I’m not bringing you in as some kind of sex slave. I won’t fuck you unless you ask me to.”

That last part is going to be really damn difficult because everything she does makes my dick stir. She breathes, and I’m hard. Dressed like she is now in next to nothing, the blue balls are almost unbearable. But I mean it. I won’t touch her if she doesn’t want me to.

“I need you to be safe, and the Durreti compound is the only place where I can make sure of that. Do you understand me?”

She nods and I nod too.

“Good.”

“What about my job? Do I get to keep it?”

Really? Even now, she is still concerned about Jeremy. I sigh.

“If you want to.”

“And friends, can I have friends over?”

“Depends on who they are.”

“Men?”

Fuck no. I grit my teeth, and then I see that she’s smiling. It’s the most enchanting thing.

“I’m kidding. I have just one friend.”

I look at her expectantly, and her eyes sparkle. “She’s a girl.”

I sigh in relief and nod.

“She’s welcome…after my men have vetted her thoroughly.”

“It’ll take me some time to pack.”

I nod and move away from her.

“I’ll send someone over to help you. I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

She nods again and follows me to the door. We stand at the entrance for a while and I want to press my lips to hers. I want to press her against the wall and feel just how hard those nipples really are. I want to feel her ass against my dick again and feel the soft slickness of her as I slowly fuck her into tomorrow.

I settle for tucking strands of her hair behind her ear and I leave before the demands of my dick become louder than the voice of reason.

***

“I didn’t think you wanted children,” Vincent says, and I laugh.

“Neither did I.”

We are sitting in one of the booths in the almost-empty club sharing a bottle of scotch.

“It feels like you’ve both lost the plot, or maybe it’s just not a very good one.”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t change it, though.”

“Does she still want to prove that you’re the big bad wolf?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re bringing her into your home. You’ll have to walk me through that one.”

I don’t expect anyone to understand what I’m doing. Heck, I don’t even understand it.

“I need her to be safe, brother. It’s my child.”

“And that’s the only reason? La ami ?”

I take a drink of my liquor before I respond. Do I love her? How do I answer that?

“ Non lo so .” I don’t know. Because that’s the truth. I don’t know.

“ Qual è il tuo piano ? What is your plan?”

“For now? To keep her safe.”

“And when she starts asking you questions, what happens then?”

“Hope that her right hook isn't that mean.”

Vincent smiles.

“How is my sister?” I ask him and he slowly lowers his glass to the table.

“Good.”

It’s my turn to scrutinize him.

“Good. Where is my sister?”

He opens his mouth, probably to tell me where exactly to shove my questions because if my sister wanted me to know where she is, she would have told me, but we are interrupted by the double doors of the club bursting open.

Like a bad omen conjured by thoughts, my sister walks through them and into the club. She heads straight to where we are sitting.

“ Bastardo, che diavolo c'è che non va in te ?"

From my periphery, I see Vincent go still, his face turning white. At least one person is more afraid of her than me. I lean back in my seat and smile at her.

“Hello, Renee.”