Page 182 of The Devil's Fire

“I’m going to burn your pants. You’re not allowed to wear gray sweatpants around others. Your dick was showing, and that is for my eyes only.” I gave him one last firm look to make sure he got the message.

“And for your pussy.”

“Just stop talking.” My cheeks grew warm as I quickly grabbed a slice of bread and forcefully fed it to him. He shot me a wink but stopped his playful teasing so I could finally eat.

As we savored our meal, my mind drifted back to the question I had asked at the start of our relationship. The things I had witnessed left me even more curious.

“Speaking of, how many have you actually killed?” I asked. Damiano gave me a blank stare, but I didn’t let it stop me. “I remember asking you if you had killed like five or thirty people, but now I know it’s definitely more than five.”

“I know you’ve killed two from the amusement park, the guy who attacked me, and that one scumbag, so that’s four.” I was thinking out loud while counting on my fingers, as if I was trying to solve a math problem.

“Didn’t I tell you not to go down that road with me?” He said sharply, but I just gave a dismissive wave.

“That was like the beginning of our relationship, but I have seen stuff now. Besides, I already know what you’re capable of, so…” I trailed off with a grin. Damiano ignored me.

“Then at least tell me what it feels like to ki- okay, I will shut up now.” I clamped my mouth shut, my lips pressed tightly together, as I met Damiano’s terrifying gaze. His gaze lingered on me, filled with a warning that I had crossed the line.

“I don’t like you asking these kinds of questions. It’s not a detail you should concern yourself with.”

“I’m just curious. That part of the world is filled with darkness and so many secrets. It’s intriguing.” I explained, leaning into him as I felt tired once again. I don’t know why I bother getting out of bed when this pregnancy has me feeling like I could sleep for days.

“You’re curious about the wrong things, piccola.” Damiano said, ending the conversation. “You should eat more.”

“I will burst if I eat more.” I said, patting my stomach. Then my eyes landed on the mouthwatering piece of chocolate cake. “Actually, I have room for a bite.”

Damiano chuckled softly as he handed me the chocolate cake, his eyes brimming with such affection that I almost found myself shyly looking away.

I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and feeling unbearably hot. I ripped the blanket away from me, and my body felt incredibly heavy. I bit down hard on my lip to stifle any sound so I wouldn’t disturb Damiano.

I quietly got up from the bed when I felt a wave of nausea hit me. It felt like an eternity before I finally reached the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I hunched forward with my hand pressed against my stomach, feeling the intense cramps. I tried to ease the pain by taking a couple of deep breaths but it didn’t help.

I stood by the toilet, feeling like I had to throw up, but nothing was coming out. I let out a small groan, my breath coming in short, labored gasps as I sank to my knees.

The pain was so intense that I had no choice but to lie in a fetal position. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on how the cold tiles felt on my hot skin.

My eyes fluttered open at a continuous sound of knocking on the door.

“Althaia… Althaia…” Damiano kept calling after me, pulling down the handle, but it remained shut. I tried to get up, but a low groan slipped from my lips as the sharp pang in my stomach intensified.

“I can’t… I don’t feel too good…” Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t even move.

“Are you close to the door?”

“No.” A pained moan escaped my lips as I clenched my eyes tightly. There was a sudden, forceful burst as the door swung open, banging loudly against the wall.

“Shit.” Damiano cursed when he found me lying on the floor. “What’s wrong? Did you fall? Where does it hurt?” He helped me up into a sitting position, but I was so weak my body was almost completely limp against his.

“Fuck, you’re burning.”

“Something’s wrong, Damiano… It hurts too much.” I whimpered, hugging my arms tighter around my stomach. Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over me, and I barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit.

It felt like it went on forever as I continued to empty my stomach. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I couldn’t take it anymore, and my stomach kept cramping.

Damiano wiped my face with a wet towel, making me moan in relief at the coolness. He carried me in his arms as I closed my eyes. I felt like I was dying.

Hearing Damiano’s authoritative voice barking orders had me opening my eyes. The sight that greeted me was blindingly bright lights and walls painted in pure white. A woman in a white coat rushed towards us and guided us to a room.

The doctor examined me on the hospital bed, and I groaned in pain as she stuck a needle in my arm to draw blood. I really hated needles.

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