Page 67 of Mayflower

“I love this too,” she blurts on a pant when I let go.

We gaze at each other in silence.

She shines. There’s a glow about her. The light in her beautiful hazel eyes drowns the dangerous spark in me, melts the coldness.

Sonny once asked me what superpower I’d like to have. I know the answer now—kindness. Not wishful kindness, but the sort that makes you stop in your tracks, the kind that can withstand hate and vengeance, halt wars, the sort that mothers have toward children.

There’s that word again. Mother. I want Maddy to be the mother of my children. I’ve never thought of family or kids until her. The thought is invasive and almost obsessive lately, but the possibility she doesn’t feel the same actually terrifies me.

“Why do you think your dad was so adamant about finding you?” I ask. “You said he is selfish. But he must love you a lot, obviously.”

“I am his only child.”

“Yes, but he had other women, you said. He could have many children. Still can.”

She looks at me with that intriguing sparkle in her eyes. “My mom was the love of his life.”

“You said that, yes. Still, he is young.”

“He had many women, yes. I’m sure he tried to impregnate every single one of them. One claimed that she was pregnant with his child, but then it turned out she lied. Don’t ask me what happened to her. But… Anyway… He found out he can’t have any.”

I cock a brow. “But he has you.”

She raises her eyes at me, and her stare is so sharp that my insides twist. A bizarre thought dawns on me. “Oh, shit…” I whisper, not believing what this means. Wait-wait-wait… “You are not?—”

I don’t continue. This can’t be.

Her expression hardens. “That’s exactly what he thought when he got tested and found out he had zero chance of conceiving. You should’ve seen his face when he first talked to me about it. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, ‘I need to know for sure. We are doing a paternity test.’ See? That’s my father. He is not concerned about anyone’s feelings. He’s narcissistic enough to be that straightforward and do the testing despite raising me with the woman he loved.”

Her lips curve into a little smirk.

“‘You’ll still get everything I have, Mila,’” he said then. “‘You are my girl. But facts are facts, and I need to know.’ So, we went to the clinic. Got the results the same day. And he—believe me when I tell you—brushed away a tear when he looked at the results. I was his. He hugged me like I was a miracle. He got tested later and found out that he has a degenerative disease that killed his sperm count.”

“Why do the paternity test at all?”

“You don’t know my father. You are not looking far enough into the future, that arranged marriage thing.”

She cocks her brow and tilts her head, studying my face, waiting for the realization to dawn on me.

“Heirs,” I say.

She nods slowly. “Yeah. That.”

We stay quiet for some time. I hope she doesn’t think I’m trying to buy her father’s good graces. That’s not it. But perhaps this is a good time to actually talk about my obsession.

“We have the same blood type,” I say. “A-negative. That’s rare.” I saw that in her file.

“I know,” she says quietly, her eyes never leaving mine.

“You know what that means?” I smile at her. “That our children would be perfect. Minus to minus, you know?”

I brush my finger against her underarm where her birth control implant is.

She chuckles nervously. “That’s a big thought, Mr. Levi.”

The sound of my name makes me tense up.

But she knows it. “One day, it’ll be your children’s name,” she says. “Better get used to it. Sonny is your oldest.” She laughs through her nose, then adds dreamily, “Sonny Levi.”

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