Page 59 of Malevolent Secrets

Something changes in the way he looks at me. His expression is soft and it is full of something I can’t identify. He looks down at my belly again, then slowly reaches out to touch me. His hand lands on my shoulder tentatively and he moves them down my arms and to my belly.

“You’re carrying my child.”

I nod, and the hand that is flat on my belly curls around my waist and pulls me to him. The hug is so unexpected, so sweet, so warm. His hand cradles my head while the other still spans across my waist. I burrow into him and it feels like something that has been missing in this whole process snaps into place.

I grab hold of him and hold on for dear life.

I don’t know how long he holds me for, but I am content to stay there for as long as he lets me. My tears eventually dry up, and he slowly moves away.

“I take care of what’s mine, Daniella. You, and the baby, you’re mine. I don’t care about anything else. Do you hear me? I’m not letting you go now.”

Somehow, I believe him.

Chapter Eighteen

Lorenzo

She’s pregnant. With my child. My child.

Wow.

All my life, I’ve always known what I wanted. Power, loyalty from my men, control, peace. I never thought I would ever be so lucky as to get to have a family.

Of course I have my sister and I had my parents before they died, but we have always operated more as separate entities, doing our own thing. Even now, my sister is God knows where doing God knows what, although I’m sure Vincent knows exactly where she is and what she is doing.

But now, Daniella is pregnant with my child. It’s the last possible turn of events I could’ve imagined.

When she told me that she was pregnant, I assumed it was Jeremy’s. Of course that would not have stopped me from taking care of her or providing for her. But my child? My own flesh and blood? Fuck, that’s next level.

I look over at her. She is sitting all the way at the other end of the couch, as far away from me as she can get on the small piece of furniture and nursing a cup of chamomile tea. Her hair is piled on top of her head in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen and her face tear-streaked. She is fucking beautiful.

It’s almost adorable how she thinks she can get away from me now. Daniella’s fate was sealed the moment she conceived.

My chest feels like it could explode. I don’t know what it is I’m feeling, but it feels like there isn’t enough room in my body to contain it. All I know is that when I look at her, I feel that inexplicable sense of protection, possessiveness and the undeniable truth that I want her. I want every single piece of her. I want her to be wholly and completely mine.

The thought of another man having her, doing the things that I’ve done and still want to do to her, makes me sick with rage. What a ridiculous turn of events.

She still looks almost scared and unsettled. I can only imagine the hell she’s been through this week, being pregnant with my child while on the quest to avenge her lover. Does she hate me? Even as I think about it, the idea makes my stomach churn.

I don’t want her to hate me. I want her to look at me and smile, the way she smiled at me that first night, before she found out who I was. I want her to want me, even if it’s just a fraction of the way I want her. Maybe that’s too much to ask for.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters—not her feelings for or about me, her plans, none of it. Not anymore.

“You have to know I didn’t do this on purpose.” Her voice is soft and sounds more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard it. “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose for whatever nefarious reasons people do that.”

“It wouldn’t matter.” And it’s true. Even if this pregnancy turns out to be just another step in her revenge plans, it wouldn’t make any difference.

“I’ll have the house ready for you by tomorrow. Pack up everything you need from here. Whatever else you need or want will be provided.” My tone leaves no room for argument, but, of course, she still argues.

“What do you mean pack up?”

“I’m moving you to my house. You’ll be living there from now.”

“Woah, woah, I didn’t agree to any of that. I’m perfectly fine staying here.”

The hell she is. There’s no way I’m letting her raise this baby in the same house she shared with another man.

“I’m sure you are, but you’ll be safe at my house.”

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