Page 45 of His Nephew's Ex
“I’m not forcing anything.” I trace the line of her jaw with gentle fingers. “I’m offering you everything I have, everything I am. My name, my protection, my devotion for the rest of our lives.”
“And if I say no?”
The question hits harder than it should because we both know she won’t say no. Can’t say no. Not with my child growing inside her, not with the way her body responds to mine, not with the undeniable connection that’s been burning between us since the moment we met.
“You won’t,” I say simply. “Because you’re too smart to walk away from this, too practical to deny our child the advantages that come with being legitimate. And too honest to pretend you don’t want everything I’m offering.”
“You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I’m sure of us.” My hands frame her face again, thumbs stroking across her cheekbones. “I’m sure that our child deserves parents who are committed to each other and to making this work.”
“And if it doesn’t work? If we make each other miserable?”
“Then we’ll be miserable together.” The honesty in that admission surprises even me. “But we’ll give our child a name. A legacy. A future worth having.”
She searches my face for the trap, the game, the hidden agenda. There isn’t one. For once in my life, I’m offering exactly what I appear to be offering—nothing more, nothing less.
“I need time to think,” she says finally.
“How much time?” I ask, though I already know the answer will be irrelevant. My child needs legitimacy, and Loriana needs my protection. Everything else is just details.
“I don’t know. A few days? A week?”
“You have until tomorrow night.” The ultimatum drops between us like a stone into still water. “We’ll have dinner, we’ll discuss the arrangements, and you’ll give me your answer.”
“And if my answer is no?”
I lean down until my lips brush against her ear, until my voice becomes the whisper that haunts her dreams. “Then I’ll spend however long it takes convincing you that yes is the only answer that makes sense.”
Her composure wavers, and I feel the shift between us like a tide turning. I haven’t broken her—I’ve simply waited for her to stop breaking herself against an impossible choice.
She’s mine. She’s carrying my child. And tomorrow night, she’ll agree to become my wife.
The only question left is whether she’ll surrender gracefully or make me work for every inch of ground I gain.
The decision is made, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
She’s become my fixed point in a chaotic world.
I’ll move heaven and earth to keep her there.
15
Loriana
The crash of shattering glass echoes through Crimson as another beer bottle hits the floor, and I know without looking that it’s the third one tonight. My hands shake as I reach for the broom, the familiar weight of it grounding me in a way that nothing else has for the past three days.
Three days since Simeone declared we’re getting married like he’s ordering dinner from a menu.
Three days since I’ve been a prisoner in paradise, pacing his estate like a caged animal while he conducts business and pretends my entire world hasn’t been turned upside down.
Three more days of morning sickness that makes me want to die, hormones that have me crying over television commercials, and the growing certainty that I’m losing myself in his beautiful, suffocating world.
“Careful there, boss,” Clay says, steadying my elbow as I sway slightly. “You sure you should be here tonight?”
I should be home—Simeone’s home, not mine—resting like the good little pregnant mafia wife-to-be he expects me to become. But I couldn’t stand another night of silk sheets and armed guards and the weight of his expectations pressing down on me like a physical force.
So I snuck out. Actually snuck out of a fortress like some teenager rebelling against her parents, using the service entrance while his security detail was occupied with shift changes.
