Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“No.”
Glory was there within minutes.
“Call the doctor,” he said.
Glory left without a fight.
Damon lowered her to the bed, and she tried to pull away from him. “I’m fine. Leave me alone. I don’t want to be here.”
“You can cry.”
“I’m not going to cry.”
“When my father died, I locked myself in his office with a bottle of whiskey. I will allow you to do that but only when we have the results. Until then, cry.”
“I’m not going to cry.”
“You can fall,” he said.
She pressed her lips together, feeling her eyes flood with tears, and they made no sense at all.
She hated her father. There was no love lost between them. They meant nothing to one another, and yet, the tears fell.
One by one, they spilled down her cheeks, and she hated them as well as herself.
“You won’t catch me. Not ever.”
“I will always catch you. Make no mistake about it, Milah. I will always be on your side.” He stroked her cheek, and she couldn’t believe he lied to her.
“I’m a Russo.”
“I thought you once told me you were a Flynn.”
Milah covered her face with her hands, and even as she hated doing so, she sobbed. She sobbed for the man she called father, and the mother she missed so much.
What did she do now?
Damon had finally achieved what he set out to do, and she didn’t know what the hell to do now. Her life had no meaning. She had focused for so long on escaping, but now that she might be pregnant, what did it all mean?
The Russo ring didn’t belong to her. That was her father’s, and now it would be either her half-brother’s, one of the guys her father had sired.
Damon stroked her hair.
They were never going to work. Never.
What kind of parents would they be?
****
Milah was pregnant. The doctor confirmed it after a blood test. Damon had no doubt she was pregnant since Glory had reported to him that Milah had morning sickness. Sitting in his office, he stared at the generous shot of whiskey he’d poured himself.
The color was dark, and he’d waited to drink this to celebrate his victory. Russo was gone. His entire empire had fallen, and now Milah was pregnant.
His plan hadn’t worked exactly as he hoped because Antonio had been an unpredictable player.
Now he owned all of the Russo territory and had their nightclubs, everything they had once owned. Antonio Russo had signed everything over to him.
Apart from the ring. He’d requested it be given to Milah. Shocking, considering the bastard had sold his daughter for his own personal ends.
Damon stared down at the ring.
Milah didn’t want it.
Every time he tried to give it to her, she left it abandoned.
The Russo ring was a very important piece of their heritage. It normally went to the firstborn son.
Damon paused and stared at the ring. He was aware of the bastards Antonio had sired, but Antonio hadn’t once acknowledged any of those children. Only Milah. It was the one part of tradition Antonio had kept.
Tapping his fingers on the glass, Damon picked up the ring and turned it over. This was done on purpose.
Any child he had with Milah wouldn’t ever be a true De Luca. Damon gritted his teeth. He’d told Antonio in those final minutes that he had knocked Milah up, and Russo had laughed.
“Doesn’t mean you’re ever going to be a good father to it. After all, it will forever be a Russo!”
Those had been his parting words.
He couldn’t allow that to happen. No child of his would ever be a fucking Russo. Grabbing his drink, he took a long swallow and relished the burn as it ran down his throat. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and tossed the ring inside.
It meant nothing.
Russo wasn’t going to win this.
Leaving his office, he made his way toward the kitchen. The new staff was busy preparing some food for dinner. He and Milah had eaten breakfast at different times. She hadn’t been in the kitchen for a couple of days, and he figured that was because of her morning sickness.
Glory had advised him that Milah didn’t want him present when she threw up. He had yet to install cameras in his own room, but he did want to be there.
Milah and his … relationship was not love. They had good sex. No, great sex, but he shouldn’t care what she was going through. This was her punishment as much as it was her father’s. Being a Russo, by extension, it made her part of it all.
She’s nothing like him.
Damon left the kitchen and asked a guard if he’d seen Milah.
“She’s headed out into the yard with that Glory maid.”
It was freezing cold outside.
Annoyed, he glared at the man, turned on his heel, and made his way out into the yard. There was no sign of her, but the guards were very much aware of who he was looking for, and they pointed in the direction where he needed to go.