Page 68 of Cat and Mouse

She grins, her eyes softening for the first time since we got back here. "Yeah but you love it."

I nod, pulling her back into my arms, needing her close, needing to feel her. "You're damn right I do."

The room goes quiet, the weight of everything sinking in. I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her down beside me. We sit there in silence, her hand still resting on my chest, and for the first time tonight, I let myself relax.

"Leo?" she asks after a long pause, her voice soft, hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"What is Matteo doing here?"

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. "He's my cousin."

"So he's your mole?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure Matteo's not Rossiani's mole?"

I shake my head. "No. Someone in your force is obviously working with Marco, but it's not him."

"You trust him?"

I hesitate, my fingers brushing through her hair. "I trust him with my life."

She nods, resting her head on my shoulder. "I don't know what's going on, but I trust you."

I kiss the top of her head, my chest tightening. "We'll figure it out, Liz. I promise."

She leans back, eyes narrowed. "Good. Because I'm pregnant."

The words are a punch to the gut. The room tilts. Pregnant? I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Pregnant? How?

She notices the shock and shifts a little. "Leo… say something."

I blink, clearing the fog. "How… how did this happen?"

Her eyes flick away, embarrassed. "I guess I wasn't as careful as I thought. I just found out, too. It's pretty early." She looks up, almost hesitant. "Are you mad?"

"Mad?" I shake my head, even though I'm still processing. "No, Liz. I'm not mad. I'm just... shocked. I mean, tonight I almost lost you. Now, it's not just you—it's our baby. And that... that's unraveling me."

Her lip quivers, her eyes glassy. She takes a deep breath. "I don't know, Leo. I don't know if I'm keeping it. What are we doing here?" Her voice breaks, and I can hear the weight of everything behind it—this life, this mess, her job, me.

I let out a shaky breath, shifting closer to her. "I don't know, either. But I do know I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever." My lips find hers, slow and deliberate. It's tender, but with every second, it grows more desperate, more filled with the unspoken words neither of us has the courage to say.

My hands slide to the hem of her shirt, lifting it gently. "Let me take care of you," I whisper, fingers brushing her skin. Her breath hitches as I undress her, piece by piece, with all the care I can muster, careful not to hurt her leg. There's something almost reverent about the way I touch her tonight. She's everything.

She's mine.

I push her back onto the bed, trailing kisses down her neck, over her collarbone. The room is quiet except for the sounds we make together—soft, breathy gasps, the shift of fabric, the steady rhythm of us moving in sync. It's not rough or rushed. It's... different, like I'm trying to memorize her, every inch, every sound, every reaction.

After, she curls into me, her skin still warm, her body relaxed but her mind still clearly racing. My hand slides over her stomach, protective, possessive. She's carrying my child.

"Lizzie," I say softly, not wanting to break the silence but knowing I need to. "I have a plan."

She tilts her head, eyebrow raised. "You have a plan?" Her voice is teasing, but there's a hardness behind it. "This should be good."

I exhale slowly, pulling her closer. "Rossiani's coming for you. There's no question about that now. The only way to keep you safe is for me to claim you."

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