Page 6 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don

“If there’s something going on here, you two had better come clean right now. I don’t have any patience for games,” he hisses.

I open my mouth again to speak, but this time, Marco speaks before I can say anything.

“No games,” Marco says. He puts the safety back in place on his gun and tucks it into the waistband of his jeans. “It’s good that you’re here because we wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk to me?” Elio spits out through gritted teeth. He turns his dark brown eyes on me.

I look up at his beautiful face framed by his tousled, dark hair and feel a pang of regret.

He’s so beautiful. Like some kind of fallen angel.

Even the rage in his expression doesn’t render him ugly. If anything, the fury makes him even more strikingly handsome.

“You deserve to know the truth,” I manage to say. My throat feels like someone is squeezing it in a firm grip.

“Oh, it’s truth we’re sharing, is it?” Elio retorts. He laughs, the sound wild and a little unhinged. “I think I can guess what kind of truth you two might have to share with me, given that you snuck over here without telling anyone. You even managed to ditch your security team, I see. I’ll have to punish them when I’m done with you two.” He rakes a hand through his thick hair and I notice that it’s shaking a little.

I assume he’s so angry because he hates to be bested at anything and he hates being left out of decisions even more.

“Elio, calm down and listen to us,” Marco says soothingly. He reaches down slowly and picks up his glass of whiskey from the table where he abandoned it. “Have a drink and calm down. We can talk about this like adults.”

“There’s nothing to talk about since I can already tell what’s happening here. You two told me you were just good friends, but that was a lie, wasn’t it?” Elio narrows his eyes at me, and I shrink back into the soft couch cushions.

I have never been afraid of Elio before, but I know now why he is so good at managing the family business and why he has a reputation for being so cruel.

“I can’t marry you, Elio,” I make myself say, even though some traitorous part of my heart cries out that there is nothing I want more. “I’m pregnant with Marco’s baby.”

Marco’s eyes meet mine and I see the defeat in his expression. I hope that he will forgive me for doing this to him. I don’t spare him anymore of my attention; however, I look at Elio cautiously. He has gone very still, the furious look frozen on his face. The only sign that he is alive is the ticking of a muscle in his clenched jaw.

“Say something,” I whisper.

“Prove it,” Elio says to me. His voice sounds strangled, but there is nothing in his expression to indicate that he feels any emotion about this moment.

A wry smile twists my lips. I reach into my purse and pull out a pregnancy test in a plastic bag.

I look down at it for a moment, then hold it out to him, my eyes locked on his face. I hear Marco make some kind of sound, but I can’t afford to look at him right now.

Elio is like a wild animal caught in a snare. Looking away, even for a second could be deadly.

One of Elio’s slender, sensitive hands reaches out toward me, and he takes the test. He pulls the bag taut over the plastic stick, his eyes trained on the results window.

“Positive,” he says, his voice flat.

“Yes,” I agree. “It’s not yours. I’m sorry.” I don’t know if I’m apologizing to Elio, myself, Marco, or the unborn baby nestled inside my womb.

Elio blinks, and when he meets my gaze, his eyes aren’t shuttered against his emotions. In that split second, I see stark pain in his expression. He swallows hard, the column of his throat visibly contracting as he controls himself.

“Elio…” I start to say.

It’s as though my words break his trance. His expression grows hard and I see his long fingers go tight around the pregnancy test.

His jaw clenches, then he roars with rage and heaves the pregnancy test at me. It hits me in the arm and I cry out. I instantly grab at my bicep in shock.

Marco starts to move toward me, but Elio draws back his arm and punches him in the face so hard that he goes down in a heap on the floor. I see blood pouring from his nose before looking back up at Elio’s enraged face, still beautiful like a god’s and utterly terrifying.

“You will both regret that you have betrayed me in this way,” Elio shouts at us. “I will make you both wish that you were never born!” He spits on the floor and stalks from the room.

I hear a sports car engine revving and then tires squealing as Elio drives away.

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