Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“Do you know what it is?” I asked, trying to keep my voice relaxed even if the thought that Aria had found out without me at her side felt like a stab to the heart.
“No,” she said softly, raking her fingers through my wet hair. “It’s probably still too soon and I didn’t want to know. I’d hoped we could find out together.” Her voice broke, and I pressed my forehead against her bare thigh. She smelled faintly of vanilla and Aria’s very own clean sweetness.
“We will. I will be there for you every step of the way from now on, I swear.”
I felt Aria nod and when I looked up, she was crying again. “Aria,” I said in a pained voice. “Why are you crying again?”
I hated to see her tears. They made me feel like a monster because I knew I was the reason.
“I’m being emotional because of the hormones, Luca, that’s all.” She tried a smile but it came off shaky. “The due date is in July.”
Five and a half months to go. Suddenly, images of my own father popped up, uninvited and unpleasant. I had few good memories of the man. Matteo and I had definitely never loved him. He hadn’t been what anyone would consider a good father, not even in our world. How was I supposed to be a father to our child? Aria, she was a natural caretaker, but I was a destroyer, a killer.
Those thoughts tormented me as I helped Aria get dressed. She chanced the occasional glance at me, obviously picking up on my mood. Insecurity filled her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, principessa,” I told her, linking our fingers.
She gave a hesitant nod. “You don’t look happy.”
“I’m happy that you are pregnant, Aria, trust me,” I said firmly. I raised our linked hands and kissed her palm. “How could I not be happy about a small version of you?”
Her expression relaxed. “It could be a boy, then it would be a small version of you.”
My stomach tightened. I knew Made Men, especially a Capo, were supposed to produce an heir, but I didn’t want a son. With a son the chances that I’d act like my father to make the boy strong were too great. I didn’t want to become like him. Again Aria picked up on my hesitation, and frowned at me. Fuck. She knew me too well.
“You want a girl?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. There was no sense in pretending I didn’t care about the gender.
She searched my face as if the answers to her questions were hidden there. “Are you worried you won’t be able to love a son like a daughter?”
“I’ll love our child no matter the gender because it’s your flesh and blood, Aria. But with a boy, I’d need to think of his future.” I didn’t say more, didn’t want to elaborate. There was no use in discussing this when we didn’t even know if it was a boy.
“We should head out now,” I said, tugging her along. My grip on her tightened when she swayed again, and I pulled her against me as I led her out of our bedroom and downstairs. The first floor was deserted. Matteo had probably gone in search of Gianna.
“Does Gianna know about your pregnancy?” I asked as I led Aria toward my new black Mercedes G-Class parked in the driveway. I’d bought it to distract myself. Of course it hadn’t worked.
“She and Lily…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“And Romero,” I finished.
Worry filled her face. “I needed to involve him so he could guard me when I went to the gynecologist. I knew you would have hated it if I’d gone there without protection, and I couldn’t ask Sandro. He would have told you right away.”
I nodded as I held the door open for her. I’d have to have a talk with Romero anyway. She slipped in, but not without another worried look. “Don’t be mad at him. He helped me a lot. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
I stifled my anger. It wasn’t directed at Aria, not even at Romero. She shouldn’t have been forced to rely on Romero in the first place. I closed the door, walked around the hood and climbed behind the steering wheel.
Aria fell asleep during the drive back to New York and I let her. She looked exhausted. With her shirtdress, her bump wasn’t noticeable, and yet my eyes kept returning to the spot.
After I’d parked the car in a loading zone, I woke Aria. She sat up, startled. Her eyes took in our surroundings. “Are we already in Manhattan?”
“You slept through the ride,” I told her.
“Sorry.” She peered out of the window. “Are you sure we won’t get towed?”
“Yes,” I said. I got out, catching the eye of the restaurant owner whose loading zone I was barring. He recognized me. He paid us for protection.