Page 189 of The Contract

It’s sick.

It’s fucked.

And it turns me on so hard I can’t stop watching.

Which is why of everything I’ve had to lose—my brothers, my sister, my goddamn life—she was the one thing I couldn’t let go of.

I won’t let go of.

My sweet forbidden fruit.

The ultimate taboo.

My greatest weakness.

And the one person whose life depends on her never knowing Dante D’Angelo is alive. No matter how close I keep her.

“She’s also going to the pharmacy.”

“Again?” I shove a cookie in my mouth, chewing slowly. “Wasn’t she just there yesterday?” I swallow and shrug. “How many tampons does one woman need? Nevermind. I really don’t want to know.”

He offers another cookie.

I take it. Think.

She better not be trying to run again.

Because I am fresh out of mercy.

Just ask Roman. He’d tell you if he still had a tongue.

Dominic drops his eyes to his shoes. “I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

I roll my eyes.

Twenty fucking questions? Now?

After the torture fest I just ran?

Jesus. How many times to I have to say it? It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

“Spit. It. Out.”

He hesitates. “She threw something away. I saw it in the trash.”

My smile lifts, easy. Crooked.

“I know. My note.”

That’s me, ever the charmer.

“No… something else was in there. A box. A, uh…”

By this point, I’m ready to rip the words from his lungs. So instead, I check my phone, and examine the feed.

Holy fuck. “Is that a…”

“Pregnancy test,” he says softly.

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