Page 55 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

She has been sleeping well, it seems, but me? I have been tossing and turning, stuck on the same thoughts running on repeat, and I don’t know when the hell I’m going to be granted a break from them.

It’s not regret.

That’s the one thing I’m sure of, that I made the right call in choosing Julia over Andreo. Andreo might have tried to wheedle his way back in, to convince me that I could trust him after all he had done to me, but goddamnit, I knew better than to believe him. He would have turned around and betrayed me all over again given the chance. I might be many things, but I’m sure as hell not stupid. Not in the way that would let me put aside everything he had done to me and take him back, even if he was my flesh and blood.

Flesh and blood. That’s the term that Julia used for it. It’s been rolling around my mind ever since, especially after everything she told me about her parents. It’s clear that she went through hell with them, trying to figure out where she belonged in a family that seemed to want nothing to do with her, and it makes me sick to my stomach to think of her so abandoned, so helpless, feeling so unwanted by the people who should have been there for her above anything else.

But more than that, what has dug beneath my skin is the fear she expressed about how she would have felt about this child if Andreo had been the one to father it. How she feared that she might resent them, even hate them, in the way that she had felt resentment from her parents.

I can see why she feels that way. Of course, given what she’s known of Andreo, she could only have looked at him as a mistake, a problem, a harmful factor in her child’s life. Look at what he did to me, to her, no doubt to many more people who we will never even know about because he did such a good job convincing people that he was a decent human being before the inevitable truth struck hard. He would have been a terrible father, cruel, selfish, vindictive, and I’m glad that he will never get a chance to inflict that on my kid.

But…but I can’t stop thinking about my part in all of this.

What if I’m the connecting factor here? Andreo was not created in a vacumn, after all, and from everything Julia has told me about their relationship, he used the skills that he learned from me to get what he wanted from her. The parts of me that I passed down to him were the ones that made him so adept at manipulation, at abuse.

Is that the kind of father I am? Is that the kind of person I will create? Someone willing to play games and twist rules and do whatever they can to get what they want?

And what if that’s how I raise this child too?

The way Julia is talking about it, it’s as though she has already made her mind up, decided that we’re going to create this little nest together and give our child the life she never had. And she seems confident that I’m not going to make the same mistakes I did before. Hell, I’m not even certain that she sees what happened with Andreo as my mistakes, even though they must be. I am—was—his father. The person he has learned from throughout his whole life.

I cast my mind back over everything that I did to get her back. The way I hid, the way I lied, the way I exerted violence and control and intimidation just to make sure she was safe. Sure, I can tell myself now that it’s nothing more than what was neccessary, that I would do it all again if it meant ensuring her safety and that of the baby, but do I really believe it? How much of this is just a fiction I’m inventing for myself, that I can turn that side of me off if I want to and keep it from any child I bring into the world?

It could just be my blood that marks them too. Something carried through my DNA, something that, even now, is growing within Julia, whether she knows it or not.

I haven’t talked about this with her, because I have no idea how to put it into words without scaring her. I think the child you’re carrying might have something wrong with them, and it might be because of me. Even to my own ears, it sounds crazy, the kind of shit I would throw out there if I was paranoid and obsessive enough to view my own unborn child through that lens.

But I can’t let them know the kind of man I am. I’m not going to raise this child as an heir, the same way I did Andreo, imbuing them with all the qualities that I know a person taking over my business will need. No, better for me to keep my distance, to let Julia exert her warmth and sweetness and let it salve all the damage that I’m sure I will have caused just by virtue of being myself.

I glance to the liquor cabinet, one of the few things I made sure was prepared for me before I moved into this place, and no doubt part of the problem of all the stress that’s running through my head right now. I want to be the kind of parent I know my child deserves, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not starting to second-guess my ability to even do that.

Perhaps this kid would be better off not even knowing their father. I can already tell that it would sting Julia down to the bone if I were to turn around and walk away now, after everything we’ve been through, after I have sworn to her that I will choose her in any way she wants me to, but I didn’t consider what it might mean for me to stay when I said that. To stay with her, maybe—but to stay with this child, that’s another thing entirely.

I would never be able to forgive myself I let my influence be what created resentment between Julia and this child, the very thing that she has been clearly working hard her entire life to avoid. It’s the one thing, she’s told me, that she doesn’t want for this little one. And I might stick her with it, whether I’m ready to admit it or not.

I should talk to her about it, I know that, put it into words so we can figure it out, but I’ve never been good at saying what I mean. I’m good at plenty of other things, most of them dangerous and hurtful in all the ways that I’m worried about, but good at that part? No, I think I need more practice there, and I don’t know if I have it in me.

Outside, I hear Julia humming tunelessly to herself as she passes by the office. I’m certain that she has noticed the distance expanding between us, the way that I’ve drawn back even though she’s doing her best to keep me engaged. I could just put it down to the grief of losing my son, but by the time I pulled that trigger on Andreo, I knew that he wasn’t my son anymore.

It’s not him I’m worried about losing. It’s this new child, this fresh start, this opportunity to put things right, that’s stuck in my head.

All I can think about is how much of a mess I’m going to make of their little life. And whether they would be better off with me just keeping my distance, instead of pretending that I can suddenly be the father they need.

I rise to my feet and pour myself another drink, cracking the door open slightly so I can watch Julia. Her long hair is loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a casual tee and jeans, her feet bare on the polished wood floor. From where I’m standing, I could swear that I see the slight outline of a bump beneath her shirt, the child already beginning to take shape and grow inside of her.

It should excite me. I know that much. I should look at my infant there within her and think of all their potential, their whole life laid out ahead of them.

But instead, all I can think about is all the ways that I’m going to make a mess of them.

And I know that, if it happens again—I will never be able to forgive myself.

29

JULIA

I chew my lip as I stand outside Antonio’s office, trying to pluck up the courage to push open the door and go inside. I know that I deserve an explanation for the way he’s been pulling back from me, but it feels like I’m intruding. And I can’t help but wonder just how much he really meant it when he told me that he would choose me above everything else.

My hand hovers in front of the door, and I hate that I’m back here again, scared of confronting him, worried about what he will say. I thought we had finally put it all behind us the other night, the night it all happened, the night he touched my ring and told me that he would always choose me. But instead, he has vanished into himself, and I know I need to coax him out before he disapears entirely.