Page 35 of Breathtaking

Good answer.

Rhys

Be safe.

Lennon

Always.

I take a cleansing breath and tuck my phone in my purse before looking at my driver. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be. I’ll call when I’m ready for the car.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maria holds the door for me, and I stop. “I need to do this alone. Could you please stay out here?”

“No.”

One word. Two letters. All the conviction in the world.

I need to learn how to do that.

People pass us on the street, rushing by, having no clue whatsoever who I am or why I’m here. I want to scream that no one knows me. There’s no threat here. But I think back to the night that got me into this mess and bite my tongue. I’d love to regret that night, and maybe I do. . . but maybe I can’t. “Fine. But stay by the door please.”

“I’ll do my best,” she agrees. Or at least humors me as much as she’s capable of as I walk past her and inside the restaurant, which appears to be under construction.

It’s stunning.

Even with tarps covering half the surfaces, it’s a beautiful work in progress, and I can easily imagine how much Maddox has loved taking this lovely piece of century-old architecture and giving it a whole new life.

“You can’t be here,” a rough voice calls out, and I turn and catch a man in a hard hat heading my way. “Are you lost, ma’am?”

Maria moves fast until I raise my hand, stopping her.

“No, sir. I’m here to see Maddox Beneventi. Could you please point me to him?” My words are sweet and sugary, laced in honey in hopes of not being thrown out before I get what I want. Now here’s hoping they work.

“The boss?” The man looks at me, untrusting, and I think I’m about to get tossed out before he smiles. “I think he’s downstairs in the vault room.” He motions behind him to a wide set of marble stairs, and I swallow down my fears and push forward before he can change his mind. And maybe before I can too.

It’s now or never.

Well, that sounded ominous.

And now I’m having a conversation with myself.

My goodness... Okay, I’ve got this.

“Thank you.” I smile and move past him, careful not to trip on the soft tarp protecting the floor. I grasp the brass railing and carefully take the stairs down to what appears to have been the original vault but at the moment is open with tables covered in building plans and paper coffee cups. Maddox is discussing something with a handsome older gentleman, and maybe had I not met both of his brothers already, I wouldn’t notice the family resemblance. But there’s little doubt this man is Maddox’s father.

The resemblance to the Beneventi boys is too strong.

Dark salt-and-pepper hair. Chiseled cheek bones. A beautifully strong jaw.

And those shoulders. The ones I loved being wrapped around.

Maddox is the spitting image of his father.

And suddenly I wonder who our baby will look like.

Will he be the next generation of Beneventi boy?

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