Page 46 of The Italian's Pregnant Enemy (A Diamond in the Rough)

“Yes,” he said. “That one.”

“I’ll just be a moment.”

She emerged from the bathroom perhaps two minutes later, her blond hair put up in a carefree clip, a swipe of shimmer on her eyes, a bit of red on her lips. She was just so beautiful naturally that it took almost nothing to transform her into a glamorous goddess.

Truthfully, he could not have planned this better. He had not intended to take a wife, but what better wife then Lyssia Anderson? She was from this world. He had business dealings with her father, her father was the dearest mentor he had ever known.

She would be the hostess that he needed her to be when it came to having events. She would be the perfect accessory at any business affair.

Yes, this was actually much better than he had originally thought. He had been uncertain about it. But it would be...

It would be a boon. He would make sure of it. If there was one thing Dario was good at, it was making a boon out of a difficult situation.

And as for Lyssia... He was handling her as he always did.

“Let’s go,cara. Our table awaits.”

The car was waiting out front when they got downstairs, and he opened the door for her, pressing his hand to the small of her back as he guided her into the vehicle.

There was a barrier between them and the driver, so they were able to speak privately.

“This is going to create a little firestorm, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It is. I have chosen a table in a location designed to help fuel that fire. You understand.”

“It’s very important to you that this looks a certain way.”

“I will not have anybody speculating on my child being a bastard.”

“I think we’re a bit past that as a society, don’t you?”

“Perhaps. But I am not from this world. And there will be people who say that your father should never have taken me in as he did considering I impregnated his daughter and did not make it right. They will say that I took advantage of you. They will talk about our age gap. The fact that I’ve known you for so long. The narrative will ever be that I am a predator from the streets who never should have been trusted.”

“That isn’t fair,” she said, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows. “I was involved in making this baby just as much is you were.”

“To be certain. And there will be plenty of things said about you. Sexism is alive and well. But so is classism. I am ever to be a hardscrabble success story. But with that success story comes the inevitable truth of my roots. And what people will say about them.”

“Do you actually care?”

The question sent a fire through his blood. “Yes. I did not spend all these years remaking myself into something new only to be cast in the mold that I came out of. I destroyed that. Broke it. Very deliberately. I have made myself new. I made myself safe, and I will make my child equally so.”

He had not meant to say quite so much, and he could see that she was rocked by what he had said.

“I didn’t think of it that way.”

“All I have ever wanted is to put as much distance between that danger and myself as I could. I will not pass it on to my heir. I will not send it down my bloodline.”

She nodded slowly. “I understand that. I do. I’m sorry if it seems like I’m insensitive. It’s...it’s exhausting all of this, isn’t it? We bat awful things back and forth with our verbal rackets and try to respond and get in our own truths and...there isn’t time, it doesn’t feel like. For me to take all this in because I’m listening to you but I’m also just trying to breathe. To survive this. It’s all unknown. Being a mother. I want to have this baby but I’m terrified.”

“Do you think you have the monopoly on fear?”

She shook her head. “No. Though you handle it differently than I do. But I understand why you’re afraid.”

“You have experienced challenges in your life. I’m not denying that. But you don’t know what it’s like. To continually feel that you have to earn a place.”

She looked out the window, and then back at him. “Not in the same way you do. But I do feel like I always have to earn a place. My mother loved having a child. It was, I think, the only thing she really wanted. My father would see me at dinnertime, and he enjoyed me, but it wasn’t the same. I loved him. I love him. Please don’t misunderstand. When my mother died, my father was bereft, and I could never shake the feeling that he had loved being her husband far more than he ever loved being my father. He never said that. But I always felt like I had to earn the right to still be there. To consume so much of his attention when what he wanted to do was sink into the sadness of having lost his wife, and I cannot blame him. I can’t. He loved her so much. And I wanted to be able to fill that void, I wanted to be there for him. And then there was you. He met you, Dario, and it was like watching the light return to him. I think he always wanted a son. But he could never face the idea of marrying again. Because he would never love anyone other than my mother. And you were everything he ever wanted. And not a child. I think he never did know what to do with children. But an adult protégé who was good, better than he was, everything he valued? You were what healed him, not me. All I have ever wanted is to be the one bringing the light in, and I could never quite manage it.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I’m not saying that I haven’t had a certain amount of ease in my life. I have. And I’m not fool enough to think that I understand the struggle that you went through. I never had to do hard labor. I was never hungry. I was never afraid. I didn’t move to a new country when I was a teenager and start over. I know that you did. But sometimes I felt invisible in my own house. I have always felt caught between all the things that I wanted. The love of my father, the desire for the right kind of success that would make him impressed with me, and the urge to be myself. Somewhere in all of that I think I never even quite figured out who I was.”

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