“No.” Holt shakes his head. “Rome didn’t look entirely friendly with him, and despite the hatred our families have toward one another, I don’t think Rome is capable of murder. I’m not sure how much he knows, though. I’m hoping he can give me something to go on.”
I nod as an icy chill slinks its way down the length of my spine. I shake it off and focus on the news I’m keeping locked inside me. “I don’t think someone who has knowledge or had anything to do with your mother’s death would drop the lawsuit the way Rome has.”
“Point well made.” Holt gives me a large grin, agreeing.
“I’m thankful he dropped the lawsuit.” I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze, holding him impossibly close.
“Same, Wallflower.” He tilts his facedown to kiss me, then he starts to sway me back and forth, almost as if we’re dancing. My hair dances across my back with how high my chin is lifted to stare into his eyes. His smile hasn’t wavered.
“Does this mean our fake dating agreement is over?” I tease, scrunching my nose.
Holt abruptly stops dancing. His hand rests on my lower back while his other wraps around the side of my face. His thumb rests under my chin, keeping me looking up into his blue eyes. He makes sure I’m reading his thoughts loud and clear, leaving no room for any confusion.
“I thought I made that clear that night at your apartment. Our fake dating agreement was never real. You know that, right?”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I love you, Selene,” he says, with more conviction than I’ve ever heard him speak before. “I’ve been obsessed with you for years. I’m at your mercy, and yours alone. You’re the only one who has the ability to destroy me. You’re also the only one I will ever love. None of this was ever fake.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I repeat Holt’s words in my head, knowing he means them, because this isn’t the first time I’ve heard them. Just when I think he’s going to change his mind or take back what he says, he proves me wrong.
But that still doesn’t take away the fear of what I need to tell him.
My lips part as I inhale a shaky breath.
Holt’s expression shifts. His brows pull together, and three creases form between his eyes. His mouth turns into a frown, and he pulls back slightly.
“You have something to tell me.”
His eyes drop to my mouth—a clear tell he knows I’m keeping a secret from him.
I must have done that fucking thing with my mouth again.
Shit.
I loosen my arms around Holt’s waist and roll back onto my heels, heat blooming in my cheeks. My cold feet press into the cold tile, and I close my eyes.
“Tell me, Wallflower.”
I’m dizzy, sick with fear. I picture my mother. My father. Then my grandmother. I cling to her memory and what she always used to tell me.
Nothing worthwhile doesn’t come without risk.
I open my eyes and find Holt still looking down at me with concern.
“I, um,” I whisper shakily. A tear slips from my eye, dripping down over my upper lip. “I’m pregnant.”
Two words.
Two words that change everything.
I hold my breath, waiting for Holt’s reaction.
His face pales, and his hand falls from my face. I miss his touch the second it’s gone. I didn’t realize how tightly I was clinging onto it, using it to keep my head above water.
“You’re pregnant?” He gasps, clamping his mouth shut. He swallows, then shifts his gaze over my shoulder, looking vacantly off in the distance.
“Yes,” I mutter, unable to bring my breath above a whisper. I stare at his chest, focusing on the intricate detail of his black silk tie. “I took a test earlier. I’ve been sick practically every day for the past several weeks and I couldn’t understand why. At first, I thought it was this meal or that meal, but then it started to happen every time I went to eat. Then I couldn’t hold the champagne down at the masquerade ball. I took the test, and the pink plus sign was unmistakable. I mean, you didn’t ask for this, so I understand if you don’t?—"
