“Glad you like it.” I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Added some extra honey.”
What she didn’t know was that her drink was laced with a sedative, and the faster she downed the contents of that cup, the sooner she would pass out. Once she was unconscious, I didn’t expect her to wake up until after we arrived back in Chicago.
God, she was going to be so pissed when she discovered she’d gotten tangled up in my web of lies. But a sick part of me couldn’t wait for Rory to drop the scared girl act and unleash her fury on me. I much preferred my little tigress with her claws out. They scratched so damn good.
Soft snores sounded from beside me. When I looked over, her fingers were loosening around her cup, and I was barely quick enough to grab it before she spilled hot liquid all over her belly.
Fuck. That was close.
I couldn’t help but stare at that bump that seemed to grow larger by the day. Rory was a petite little thing, so she’d begun to show early, but in these last few weeks, the rounded swell became more prominent. It was wild to think that, after all this time, my son was finally on his way.
Rolling down the window as I approached the tiny airstrip just outside of town, I handed my ID to the attendant at the gate. “Private charter for Chicago.”
The man checked his clipboard, nodding. “You’re set for takeoff in forty-five minutes. Parking lot is to the left.”
“Got it.”
“Have a nice flight.”
Oh, I will. A blissfully quiet one before shit hits the fan.
Driving through the gate to the parking area, I brought the car to a stop. To double-check that the sedative had taken full effect, I gave Rory’s shoulder a little nudge. “Ro? Honey, can you hear me?”
Silence.
Perfect.
Hopping out of the driver’s seat, I didn’t bother grabbing our luggage out of the trunk. That would be abandoned along with the car because we wouldn’t be returning. Nothing I’d packed couldn’t be replaced, but honestly, I wouldn’t miss any of the items from my “fake” life. It was a damn miracle I hadn’t developed a rash after months of wearing clothing made of cheap fabric. One of the many calls I planned to make while in the air would be to my personal shopper to have an entirely new fall and winter wardrobe sent to the Bellini Estate immediately, since nothing currently hanging in my closet would fit my bulked-out frame.
Opening the passenger door, I unbuckled Rory before hefting her into my arms and carrying her across the tarmac to where the private plane sat waiting.
The stewardess who greeted us at the staircase eyed my unconscious companion, her brows drawn together in concern. “Is she all right, sir?”
“Perfectly fine,” I assured her, setting Rory down in the front row of seats. “She’s a nervous flyer, is all. Takes a sedative on the drive to the airport so she’s knocked out from wheels up to wheels down.”
“Ah.” The stewardess nodded in understanding. “If you could do me a favor and make sure she’s buckled during the flight.”
“Of course.”
“I’m Amanda, and I’ll be taking care of you and your . . .” Her words trailed off, expecting me to fill in the blanks on my relationship to Rory, so she didn’t incorrectly presume and hurt her chances of earning a tip.
“Wife,” I supplied.
“Wonderful.” She clasped her hands together, and a genuine smile touched her lips as her gaze dipped to Rory’s midsection. “And you’re expecting a baby?”
“We are. A boy, due in February.”
“Congratulations. I’ve got two little ones myself at home in Chicago, a boy and a girl. Raising kids is beyond challenging, but also the most rewarding thing you’ll ever do in your life.”
“Any pro tips?” I asked.
Her lips twisted to the side as she mulled over which piece of parenting wisdom to bestow upon me. Eyes widening, she exclaimed, “Oh! Little boys love to pee the moment their diaper is removed. I’ve found the best way to avoid an unwanted golden shower is to use a cold, wet wipe just above their diaper line. It encourages them to releasebeforeyou take off the diaper.”
Laughter burst past my lips. “You know, that’s more useful than the canned advice most people give to sleep when the baby sleeps.”
Amanda’s smile brightened. “Parenthood is messy. Shit literally happens—I’m not kidding, that first blowout will shock the hell out of you, but you won’t bat an eyelash at all the ones that come after that. And there’s no amount of sleep that will help make you feel like less of a walking zombie for the first year. I wish someone had been more honest with me about it going in.”
Politely, I thanked her. She didn’t need to know that we would have around-the-clock help, that there would be no sleepless nights because a nanny would be paid handsomely to handle feedings and diaper changes. This baby wasn’t about to turn my life upside down. In fact, I didn’t expect to have much to do with him until he was older, when it was time to start training him to take my place as Don.
