“Even though that is precisely what this was. Anarrangement.”
She acts as if Giovanni never spoke. Tears well in her eyes as she lowers them to my stomach. A healthy appetite has made it a little plump, but it’s far from looking pregnant. “But now it’s all a mess.”
The doctor tries to mediate, but his words are just noise. My head is spinning, and I’m angry. So fucking angry. Not solely at the clinic. I also blame myself for the desperation that led me here.
It’s also frightening being pushed into a role you’ve never truly considered.
Well, I have considered having children, but not like this. I always thought they’d come after the bells and whistles of a whirlwindrelationship. A predicament like this never entered the equation.
“If the test comes back positive, I can have an abortion.” That was hard to say, but what other choice do I have?
Giovanni’s stern timbre drills through my panic. “No. That’snothappening.” His seemingly laidback composure is terrifying. He should be furious, but for some reason, he’s not. He’s in control, as if he’s already decided my fate for me.
The certainty in his eyes makes me want to run, and the urge doubles when Valeria’s sob reaches my ears. “Please, don’t. My egg supply is already low. This cycle could be my last chance to be a mother. Please, Valentina, don’t kill my child.” Her pain is raw, and it slices through me with the brutality of a knife. I know all too well the pain of clinging to hope with bleeding fingers, but I can’t be her savior. I can barely save myself.
I’m torn in two, conflicted between compassion and self-preservation. My heart hurts for Valeria, but my head screams at me to run. I need time to think without this additional burden breathing down my neck. I hate that I’m not strong enough to face this with grace, but the tank has been empty for months. There’s nothing left to give.
My body reacts before my heart’s pleas can be heard. I bolt for the exit, eager to escape this nightmare. As I reach the door, a sharp jab pricks my neck. In less than a heartbeat, my vision goes hazy, and the world spins around me.
I assume Giovanni isn’t happy about my plan to flee him again, but a voice I’ve heard more in ecstasy than in an everyday setting proves me wrong. “What the fuck did you do?”
“That ismychild,” replies Valeria as I fall forward too fast to be safe. “I refuse to let someone like her take him or her away from me.”
I’m caught by a powerful set of arms a second before Giovanni’searthy and expensive cologne fills my senses. A comforting illusion of safety swamps me as everything fades to black. I shouldn’t want Giovanni’s comfort or protection, but I do. Badly.
14
GIOVANNI
Fleeting lights from Carlisle’s cityscape streak Valentina’s beautiful face when they pass the tinted windows of my town car. She’s sprawled on the seat opposite mine, her head lolling with the car’s gentle sways. Her parted lips suggest her sleep is unaffected by the sedative that stole memories of the procedure that will bind her to me for eternity.
Valeria hasn’t assembled the puzzle pieces as effectively as I have. She’s still of the belief that Valentina has something she owns.
I’ve yet to reach the same conclusion.
Dr. Di Petro said that instead of retrieving Valentina’s eggs, they implanted Valeria’s embryos inside her.Instead.Not after the procedure she’d gone to the clinic to have. Not in addition to. He implied that the egg retrieval procedure had beencompletelyoverlooked.
This not only boosts the chances of conception but also places Valentina alongside Valeria as the potential mother of my child. It isn’t solely from the number of embryos inserted, which was only two since Valeria refused to carry multiples, fueling my campaign, but also that we failed to use protection.
Last night, I took Valentinabare—more than once.
I’ve never been more grateful for the lapse in judgment.
Although I’m not an expert on women’s psyches, the pamphlets I perused during Valeria’s repeated visits to the clinic taught me that women are more fertile during the stimulation of eggs. Valeria also offered that as her excuse when she snuck into my bed earlier this month. She hoped a meaningless hookup would mean avoiding an invasive procedure.
While she’ll never admit this, she also desired our partnership to seem legitimate and would do whatever was necessary to make that attainable.
I once again opposed her plans. I’d met Valentina by then, and no amount of alcohol could have me mistaking Valeria’s waif-thin frame for Valentina’s sultry curves. I also didn’t want it to. Perfection can’t be copied, and no man would sign up for a cheap imitation.
As hope thickens both my veins and my cock, I watch Valentina’s chest rise and fall. Her slow, steady breaths are a comfort amidst my fury over her unconsciousness. While the world outside is a chaotic blur of revenge plots and death notes, in here, time feels suspended.
Calm always precedes a storm.
Valeria clears her throat, unsubtly reminding me that she’s beside me. Her posture is rigid, and her hands wring the silk handkerchief I refused to use to ensure Valentina didn’t “get away.”
I don’t mind if she runs.
The chase will mark the commencement of our foreplay, and I’m more than ready to have Valentina back underneath me.
