Page 128 of Bastian

“Crazy jealous when it comes to me as I am when it comes to you. Remember when the French waitress was hitting on me back in my restaurant in Paris? You put her in her place quickly.” He grins, pleased with the fact that I lose my head when it comes to women thirsting over him. Women or men. It does not matter.

“She’s lucky I didn’t break a plate on her face,” I mutter, remembering how small that girl tried to make me feel while at the same time acting so sweet toward Sebastian.

“Such anger…” He tsks. “Admit it.” He nudged me. “You are crazy about me...”

I eye him seriously. “Like you need reassurance, Sebastian.” His eyes turn soft, and his smile takes over his face. That perfect smile stayed on his face throughout our family’s morning breakfast and throughout the day. And I wonder if it would be too much to ask for him to keep smiling at me like that for the rest of my life.

ARIANNA

ROMANCE OF THE CENTURY

“I looked for you every day and every night.” — B

“Thank you all for stepping up,” I tell my team through the camera of my laptop as I recline in one of the baby’s rocking chairs. “Wizz’s feature on our magazine brought us a new wave of readers with more exposure. I couldn’t have done it without you all. Now let’s keep this same energy for the next issue. Brainstorm all your ideas and I will be taking suggestions for next month’s cover and issue.” I finish up my video meeting with the team by pointing out a job well done.

Wizz’s cover not only gave us more exposure than we had before, but now up-and-coming artists are looking to be featured in our magazine while our newspaper has taken over the political side of the industry. Apart from these past months being hell on me, at least business has been good. Because my second baby, my company, is always good to me. Unlike the little tyrant currently causing havoc inside my womb. This trimester, although all is going smoothly with the pregnancy, Baby Kenton decided to mess with my routines, and there’s nothing that pisses me off more than not being able to show up at work because I look like death.

This morning, I was woken up by the need to puke whatever little was in my stomach. I jinxed myself when I celebrated how smooth my first months were going, and now, I not only have cravings, I suffer from lack of sleep and morning sickness.

Now the issue is that I could only keep two things down, chocolate and tea. An odd and not very nutritious diet for my baby. So I suffer, trying to eat the foods that make me nauseous but are rich in vitamins and nutrients for the mini tyrant but then after, I find myself suffering with my forehead plastered to the toilet as I puke my guts out.

The things you do to me, little tyrant.

You bring me so much joy but a lot of trouble too.

You are your father’s spawn.

Ping.

A new notification pops up on my computer’s screen.

An email from my sister Mila.

My mood instantly brightens when I read it.

Since that first message she sent so many months ago, we have exchanged emails every day since. At first, I felt extremely awkward because so much had happened between us but none of it was her fault, and Mila had the ability to make everyone feel comfortable with her sweet, kind, and sunshine nature that could be transmitted even through her words.

We’ve talked about the present, focusing on that instead of all the ugly that separated us.

I messaged her I was sorry.

She replied that I had nothing to be sorry about and that she once dreamed of the life I have now for me.

Sweet and pure, my baby sister.

I also know that she’s still in Detroit and under Kadra’s care. I once asked if she wanted to one day come here to Washington and be with me, and she replied that maybe one day, but as of now, she needs to remain in Detroit.

I also asked if she was safe, even though I knew Kadra would go to war with both Satan and God themselves for our baby sister. Mila reassured me that she was okay but that she had a mission. I asked what the mission was, and she just replied that one day she’ll tell me while we were sitting in a Paris cafe. That night I cried my eyes out. Blame it on the hormones or just the fact that I was bursting with happiness because someday is here for me and Mila at least.

She also told me that she’s been following my social media and that she is so proud of me. I tear up at that, too, because all I want for her is to have a life as I do. I want her to experience the world, and in the mafia, she won’t have the same freedom. Not when she’s stuck there in the middle of a war between territories. I also know that I can’t do anything about it because taking a mafia princess from a boss is considered treason and has cause for death.

I can’t ask Sebastian to get involved, even though I know he would in a heartbeat, but there’s so much at risk. Messaging my sister back, I close the computer and place it down on the white carpet on the floor. God, I love that carpet so much that the little mutt, Cupcake, is forbidden from entering this room.

Baby Kenton’s nursery.

My heaven inside this historic and bland house.

Mila pointed out that my baby will be the second child to be born in the executive mansion in its two hundred and eighteen years of history. There have been more kids born, of course, but only one was the child of a sitting president.

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