Page 62 of Fierce Hearts

Iwatched Meredith curl up on the couch with a blanket, refusing to leave her friend alone. The sight warmed something in me I didn't know needed warming. Sofia needed her people around her, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, I was one of those people now.

All of last night, Meredith had helped ease Sofia, doing exactly what I'd hoped, and Sof had even laughed. She'd allowed me to join in with some board games, and we'd had a pleasant evening after dinner, chatting and pretending everything was fine with the world.

That there was no darkness closing in around us.

"You don't have to stay, Mer," Sofia said as she sipped her decaf coffee I'd made, though the relief in her eyes told a different story.

"Like hell I don't." Meredith tucked her feet under her. "Besides, I want to see Gray try to cook breakfast. This should be entertaining."

I rolled my eyes but headed to the kitchen anyway. "I'll have you know I make a mean omelet. I used to cook for you."

"Yeah, and it was a disaster-zone in the kitchen all the time," Meredith quipped. "I still remember when you burned the crepes and set off the fire alarm so bad that an actual firetruck came."

"Oh, that would've been costly," Sof said with a wince.

"Hey, growing pains, okay? I was learning," I defended myself, causing them both to laugh.

For a brief moment, watching Sofia smile at her friend, I could almost pretend this was normal. That we weren't trying to wade through murky waters, that she wasn't being forced into a marriage with another family, that we were trying to find a way to save her and our child without starting an all out war.

But it wasn't normal. And the weight of that knowledge settled heavy on my shoulders as I cracked eggs into a bowl.

* * *

The followingweek was something special in more ways than one.

I had gotten myself settled into Sofia's home with the necessities, and I'd even been sleeping in bed with her. Something she was allowing, although, considering the late evenings on the phone, sleep was all we were doing. Some days I went into the office, making sure my own security remained around her place. She wanted to be alone often, it was what she was used to, so I was trying to find the balance to make her life as comfortable as possible. She’d told me she didn’t want me there constantly, suffocating her. Besides, she still wanted to work, and I’d allowed it, saying she at least needed my security team with her around the hospital. It was a compromise we were both comfortable with.

I still needed to work, but majority of my time was spent with Leo strategizing, trying to find leverage against Ernesto or information about the Ference family that might give us an advantage. A way to end this before it began, to sever this marriage. We had one more week until the engagement party, and it was the moment we were aiming to get this sorted by.

We'd dug up all sorts of information, some of it I was unwilling to share with Sofia right now in her current state.

Like how Juan Ference had indeed murdered his last fiancée when she'd tried to break it off. Her remains had been lost at sea after he'd taken her on his yacht to deal with her. We'd managed to get the information through a weak link in his men, one who was more than willing to share when a pretty woman was grinding on him.

The Ference family was big on prostitution, even with their own women, using them to gather intelligence all around or offering them as payment.

Too bad we had our own connections in such circles. We may have hated the idea of prostitution, but we had our connections where needed, owned shares and full businesses for strippers. If the dancers opted to do extra for more money, then so be it, but it was never forced. It was always a choice.

But it was another thread we’d discovered that looked to be the best information we'd come across, and now we were following it, doing our best to get the root and truth of it, but it was proving difficult.

But Leo believed he was getting close, and if he could prove it, then we'd have our smoking gun to unravel this whole thing in a way. We just needed to play it right.

Sofia kept me at arm's length during the day while at work, only responding to texts where I was checking in, and I had to make sure I had a team set up around the hospital, keeping an eye on the place. She even took additional overtime shifts so that she didn't have a single day off. I knew it was so she wasn't left with her own mind. She wanted to remain busy while we figured this out.

While other people sorted out how her life was going to go.

I could understand her distress there.

But at night, she'd allow me small victories—letting me cook dinner, accepting my help with the dishes, even sitting beside me on the couch while we pretended to watch television.

One evening, as I placed a plate of chicken and vegetables in front of her, the question that had been burning in my mind finally escaped.

"Have you seen a doctor? Gotten yourself checked out and prenatal appointments set up?"

Sofia's fork paused halfway to her mouth. She set it down carefully, her eyes fixed on her plate.

"You seem to have done your research, Gray. But no, I haven't."

I frowned at this. I'd done my research, and prenatal appointments typically started at 8 weeks, but I'd rather get it underway sooner rather than later, especially with the abundance of stress in her life. She'd told me she'd had a blood test to confirm her pregnancy since it was still early days. "Why, Sof? You need to see a doctor, get ahead of this, get checked out fully."

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