Page 71 of Relentless Oath

“No, no, it’s okay. Lie back down. You’re fine.”

Immediately, she reached for her belly and placed a hand there, her eyes wild with a question she couldn’t speak out loud because she feared the answer. A question I understood. It was one that I had asked immediately.

“Yes, the baby’s okay.”

Her tense body visibly relaxed upon hearing my words. The baby was fine. Better than fine, the doctors had said. Our baby girl was doing great.

The doctors hadn’t known that I didn’t know the sex of the baby until then. Hearing it had made the world slow down and become unfocused. I was going to be a father, a father to a baby girl. I wondered if Mya knew yet.

I focused on her face but realized she had turned away from me. I figured she just didn’t have the strength to talk, but then I looked over at her closely and noticed the rise and fall of her chest. She was asleep.

Good. She needed her rest.

It was the most peaceful rest she’d had in a long time. I understood now. She had been worried about being killed, and she had had to keep the secret of her pregnancy. Guilt washed over me. How could I not have noticed?

She was showing now, but not much. It wasn’t like it was on television, I realized. That was my only frame of reference for pregnancy.

Her belly hadn’t grown much, and her eating habits hadn’t changed much. As I studied her now, I noticed that her breasts seemed larger, but I had assumed that was my mind playing tricks on me.

She shifted in the hospital bed and turned toward me, then.

Her eyes opened and she blinked. Then, to my surprise, she reached for my hand as she fell asleep again.

That one simple gesture did something deep inside me. It was like a switch had flipped. I held her hand in mine, just massaging it, memorizing the feel of her soft, warm palm.

Her skin felt delicate, and her fragility this time didn’t feel beautiful. It felt brutal.

It made me feel like a monster. I remembered how I had shoved her to the ground when we were trying to escape from the house. The memory played over and over in my mind, and without thinking, my hand tightened around hers.

She made a small sound of protest. I instantly released the pressure, feeling angry with myself. I could blame Matteo, but at the end of the day, this was all my fault. I had brought this upon us.

She was lying in a hospital bed, exhausted beyond measure because of me. She had been terrified for weeks because of me.

The doctors said they wanted to monitor her. They were concerned that she was dehydrated. They had said that sometimes women experienced vertigo during pregnancy and that it was normal. However, there was no way they could convince me that she wasn’t here because of me.

Because of my ego. I just assumed that I knew what was best for her, that with me, she would never be in harm’s way. I’d been wrong.

The doctors had instructed me to help her avoid stress for the sake of her health and the baby’s. At first, everything inside of me rejoiced at the idea that I would have more leverage to control her.

I would have a reason to restrict her movements. I would protect her. I would keep her safe. I would do what no one else could do.

And then I realized that controlling her had gotten me nowhere. Giving in to my obsession had only turned into her getting hurt.

My child could have died because of the decisions I had made. I made the decision to bring Mya into my life. I’d gotten her pregnant, and ultimately, it was my fault that I couldn’t keep her safe. It was all my fault.

I should have walked away from my father and his lifestyle as soon as I turned eighteen and stayed away, but I hadn’t.

If I were being honest with myself, I’d built the empire because I wanted to hurt them, all of them. I wanted to do what my father couldn’t.

I needed to feel as if I were better than him, achieving a dream that he could never have accomplished, creating an empire that knew no bounds. He was nothing.

And I wanted him to feel like nothing. And my brothers—I wanted to prove to them that I was better than them, more deserving of everything I had.

In the end, what had I proved? What had I obtained? I was rich, my money and connections stretched far and wide. I was powerful.

And because of all those things, I had to constantly watch my back. I didn’t really know who to trust. I surrounded myself with people who I assumed were loyal, and I tested their loyalty through violence.

They weren’t loyal because I was liked by them. I paid them and made them offers that they probably thought they couldn’t refuse. And they were right…

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