Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“All mine,” I whisper, kissing her lips. She’s breathing hard, and we’re both sweaty messes. “All fucking mine.”
“All yours.” She leans her forehead against my chest, and I hold her. “But don’t mention money again, okay?”
It’s strange. Most women want to know their partner can provide for them. Even if she’s independent, it still feels good knowing there’s a safety net. She’ll always be financially stable with me, no matter what. That should be freeing.
But the money bothers her. I don’t know why, and I’m not sure I care. Right now, all I can think about is how good it feels to be inside her.
I am a simple, stupid fucking man.
But the sex really did distract me.
“Whatever you want,” I say, shaking my head. “Even though I’m sure I’ll regret it.”
“No way.” She bites my lower lip, grinning. “Because now I know I can use sex to get what I want. And I want a lot of things.”
“Terrifying. But I’m not complaining.”
“Good. Now, you may order me that part if you’d like.” She shimmies against me, grinning. “Or do you need more sex first?”
“I could use a little more convincing.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Chapter 26
Fiorella
Istare at myself in the mirror. The taste of sick is still trapped in my mouth. I rinse it out, brush my teeth, and groan.
I am such a freaking mess.
“You really screwed this up,” I whisper as I start to get dressed. It’s early, a little past seven, and I’m only awake because the morning sickness dragged me out of bed. “You really, really fucked up.”
I had him.
Yesterday in the garage tent, I had everything I wanted.
He was offering to give me a future. With that credit card in hand, I could buy anything I want. A little careful planning plus a limitless line of credit is more than enough to plan my escape. It sure as hell beats scrounging up cash from his drawers.
But I couldn’t do it.
I freaked out. He was offering me everything I need, and I shoved it back at him. Mostly because of how badly I wanted it. That card represented a future I’ve always dreamed about but never really thought I’d get. That card was everything to me.
I should’ve taken it.
I had sex with him instead.
He must think I’m deranged. What rational person would turn down that offer? It’s not like there were strings attached. Luca doesn’t care about money. He has plenty. It makes no sense to refuse to take the card. It’s not like he was forcing me to use it.
He deserves more than what I’m giving him.
It just isn’t fair. Luca’s a good man. He’s vicious and violent, but he cares about me. He gives me what I need and seems to genuinely put my needs and wants ahead of his own. All the while, I’ve done nothing but plan on running away from him while hiding a massive secret.
I have to tell him about the baby.
It’s time. I can’t keep going on like this. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a bad person, and I don’t think I could live with myself if I hid this from him any longer. Maybe I’ll still run away, and maybe he’ll respect that and let me go, but I can’t do it like this.
Not with this massive secret growing in my belly.
I head out into the hallway and down the stairs. The second to last step creaks, and I hop over it, trying to tell myself I’m strong, I can handle this, and if I can fix cars, then I can tell my husband that I’m pregnant.
But as I start to head down into the basement, my resolve begins to slip.
What if he freaks out? What if he keeps me locked up in our room or something? He’s got some weirdly old-fashioned ideas. Maybe he’ll force me to stay in bed like it’s the eighteenth century or whatever. I reach the last step and look out over the basement home gym, and suddenly I don’t know how I’m going to do this.
Luca’s just finishing. He’s sitting on a bench, hunched over, in a black tank top and shorts. Sweat mists his gorgeous body. His muscles are incredible, and the ink on his arms still makes me shiver. How could a man like this really care so much about me? I want to pretend like he’s nothing more than a mafia asshole, but I’ve seen a side of Luca that I never thought would be there.
He’s warm. He’s caring. And he wants to give me a good life.
Here I am, trying to run away from him.
Slowly, he looks up. Our eyes meet. And all my resolve evaporates into mist.
“You okay?” he asks, wiping his forehead with a towel.
“I’m fine. Wanted to see what you were up to.” That sounds so lame, and I’m embarrassed the second I say it.