Page 19 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
He chuckles. “Still, it was a good time.”
Nope. Not going there.
“Anyway, I was shocked to find out I’m pregnant.” I smile as I put my hand on my belly. “But it didn’t take long to decide I’m going to be one kick-ass single mom. I already love this baby.”
There’s a moment of silence in the car, and when I look at Dario, I’m surprised to see a grim expression on his face.
“Were you even going to tell me?”
I gulp. I could lie, but it wouldn’t be believable. He already knows that I hate his family.
“I never planned to see you again.”
His jaw is tight and his eyes narrow. I expect him to yell at me and brace myself for it, but he doesn’t say a word. He turns away, staring out the window, but his body language is closed off. He’s angry with me again.
So much for civil conversation.
I pick at my nails for the rest of the drive, a nervous habit I’ve always had. My mother used to admonish me for it, and the memory stings. My nails might be uneven, but I’d rather fidget a little to let out my anxiety than completely self-destruct like she did.
The driver of the car pulls into the underground parking garage of a high rise apartment building, parking and getting out to open my door.
Dario gets out behind me, going to the trunk to grab our bags. He’s still silent as he heads to the elevator, and I don’t have anything to say as I follow behind.
I hate how awkward this is. I didn’t even realize that I was starting to get comfortable around him until things got tense again.
How am I going to live with him? This was a big mistake.
He uses a keycard to operate the elevator and we ride to the twentieth floor. There are only four doors in the long hallway when we step out of the elevator, and Dario leads me to the first one on the left.
I’m too distracted by Dario’s bad mood to think too much about what I’m walking into, and I come to a stop right inside the apartment, looking around with wide eyes.
The place is amazing. Dark hardwood floors run beneath our feet and there’s a wall of windows directly in front of me.
I thought the view from his hotel suite was impressive, but this is another level. The sky is dark above thousands of bright lights shining from every building. I can see for miles, including the mountains in the far distance, shadows set against the faint light of the full moon.
I’m so busy staring out the windows that I barely notice the apartment around me until Dario speaks.
“Follow me. I have a spare bedroom you can use.”
I follow him, taking in the open-concept apartment. The living room is stuffed with black leather furniture and large canvases of art hang on the walls. The end tables are metal and glass, and there’s a huge, fluffy rug in the middle of the room, a spotless white.
I can’t imagine a child here. It seems like everything has sharp edges or is easily stained. It’s a bachelor pad designed for seduction, not sticky fingerprints and spilled juice.
We head up stairs leading to the second floor of the apartment. There’s more expensive art up here, and the walls are painted a deep, bold red. Everything about this apartment tells me that it’s professionally decorated. It doesn’t quite feel like Dario, but it’s nice. Fancier than any place I’ve ever lived before.
“Here,” Dario says, stopping at a door and opening it. He stands back to let me walk in first. He brings my bag into the room and sets it in the middle of a king-sized bed, on top of a navy blue comforter. The curtains in the room match, and there’s a mahogany dresser and desk in two corners of the room.
It’s a huge room, and an open door to my right shows me that there’s an attached bathroom. I already feel a little spoiled, and I’m eyeing the huge soaking tub when Dario comes to stand in front of me.
He’s not glaring anymore, but there’s no warmth in his eyes either. We’re two strangers that are suddenly cohabiting.
“You’ll be safe here, Paige.”
His eyes flicker down to my belly before he turns away. I watch him leave the room until the door closes behind him.
Once I’m alone, the reality of everything that’s happened for the last few hours catches up to me. Oh my god, I’m in Dario Andretti’s apartment.
I’m moving in.
