Ivan leans back, steepling his fingers. “An heir, then?” His lips coil, still suspicious of how perfectly this is playing out. “I’ll schedule the appointment for you tomorrow.”
Of course you will, you stupid son of a bitch.
If I refuse his help, I can lie about how Sienna is pregnant all I want. My father wants proof.
And he’ll get the proof.
Because I’ll threaten the doctor with a death sentence if he says otherwise.
“Before nine,” I profess. “I have to work.”
Typical me.
For the first time tonight, the corners of his mouth twitch upward. He’s buying it or he wants to.
“I didn’t think you had it in you, Benedikt. Settling down. A family.”
I don’t take the bait. “I don’t waste time when I find what I want.”
Beside me, Sienna shifts like she’s not sure whether I’ve just complimented her or staked a claim. She should know better that it’s both.
“Well, I’m hoping for a good outcome,” my father replies. “If so, we have plenty to celebrate.”
I ignore him. He’s going to look into every nook and cranny to debunk this relationship. But if I can get Sienna pregnant, he can’t deny that I’m doing exactly what he’s dreamed of. It won’t matter how long we’ve so-called dated.
“How are you feeling now?” I ask Sienna, sounding like the doting fiancé who has her best interests. “Are you still queasy?”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
She looks like she’s going to puke. Her skin is pale, and there’s no excitement in her tone now.
Any other couple would be jumping for joy.
We’re over here lying our asses off like we’re forced in an arranged marriage.
So I call it out.
“You look ill,” I reply. “You’re doing that thing where you overwork yourself and pretend it’s just lack of sleep.”
She semi-smirks at that. “You worry too much.”
“Trust me, I’m curbing it.” I press another kiss to her hand, allowing it to linger there for a few seconds longer than the first. “I wouldn’t have dragged you out of the house if I knew?—”
“Ben, I’m going to shoot myself if you’re like this for the next nine months. Women work all the time when pregnant.”
“Not mine.”
She scowls at me, which is the truest thing she’s done all night. “Well,Iam. I’m building a brand and a business. I don’t have time to sit around all day and wait.”
“You’re stubborn as fuck, Sienna,” I mutter. “You can do certain things at home.”
“No.” She pulls her hand out of my hold and gives my cheek a small tap. “Stop worrying until we know for sure. You’re doingthatthing where you plan lightyears ahead when you don’t have all the facts.”
“It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have worn that damn dress.”
She scoffs and chuckles, but it’s not real.
This is all a game.
