Page 49 of Twisted Obsession

For a long moment, we lie there, tangled together, our heartbeats gradually slowing. Dominic presses a soft kiss to my temple before rolling to the side, pulling me with him. His hand slides down to rest on my stomach where our baby nestles, and this moment is just as moving, just as intense, as our passion; a gesture that's both protective and possessive. "We should get some rest," he murmurs. "Tomorrow, we start planning."

I nod, suddenly aware of how exhausted I suddenly am. The emotional roller coaster of the day has left me drained. I snuggle closer to Dominic, relishing the warmth of his body against mine.

As I start to drift off, I hear Dominic whisper something in Italian. I'm too tired to ask what it means, but the tenderness in his voice wraps around me like a blanket.

I don’t know how long it’s been, but I wake to the sound of Dominic's voice, low and urgent. He's on the phone, speaking rapid Italian. I can't understand the words, but the tension in his body tells me something's wrong.

I sit up, blinking sleep from my eyes. "What is it?"

Dominic ends the call and turns to me, his face grim. "We have to move. Your brothers are on the way home.”

I don’t bother asking how he knows, but just like that, our little bubble is burst, and reality rears its ugly head once more.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

ROISIN

And so, the subterfuge begins. Me sneaking out for clandestine meetings with Dominic, which Emylyah has become wholly complicit with, since she’s often my excuse during those times I can’t just sneak out of the compound unnoticed.

Spa outings become a regular cover for our assignations. Lyah and I turning up for a waxing or a massage, my bodyguard waiting in the lobby, while I sneak out of the rear entrance to meet Dominic and return the same way, leaving no one any the wiser.

Shopping trips no longer involve high fashion but buying baby things and maternity wear.

Overnight stays ostensibly with Emylyah which I really spend in a hotel room with Dominic.

The one thing we haven’t worked out yet is how we’re going to get through this… and time is running out. At twelve weeks, Ialready have the start of a baby bump, but I can’t fault Dominic. He may not have said the three little words I so desperately want to hear from him, but he’s been with me every step of the way. True to his word, he set up a meeting with his doctor-friend, who in turn recommended an OB-GYN. And he’s been by my side, not blinking an eye at being on record as the father of my child, and holding my hand, both literally and figuratively, for every appointment.

Which brings us to today’s ultrasound scan.

I'm lying on the examination table, my shirt pulled up to expose my growing belly, as the technician spreads cold gel across my skin. Dominic stands beside me, his hand clasped tightly in mine. The anticipation is palpable as we wait to see our baby for the first time.

The technician moves the wand across my abdomen, and suddenly, there it is on the screen–a tiny, flickering heartbeat. My breath catches in my throat, and I feel Dominic's grip tighten.

"There's your baby," the technician says with a smile. "Everything looks healthy and on track for twelve weeks."

I can't tear my eyes away from the screen, watching in awe as our child moves and stretches. It's all becoming so real now, and the weight of our situation hits me anew. How much longer can we keep this secret?

As if reading my thoughts, Dominic leans down and whispers in my ear, "We'll figure it out, Roisin. I promise."

I turn to look at him, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt or regret, but all I see is determination and something else–something that makes my heart skip a beat. Could it be love?

The moment is interrupted by the technician's voice. "Would you like to hear the heartbeat?"

We both nod eagerly, and suddenly the room is filled with a rapid, rhythmic whooshing sound. Tears spring to my eyes as I listen to our baby's heartbeat, strong and steady. Dominic's thumb gently strokes the back of my hand, and I can see he's just as moved as I am.

As we leave the clinic, our hands filled with ultrasound pictures, the reality of our situation comes crashing back. We can't keep sneaking around forever. Sooner or later, someone is going to notice my growing belly, and then what?

"We need a plan," I say as we climb into Dominic's car. "A real one, not just these stolen moments."

He nods, his expression serious. "I know. I've been thinking about it non-stop. We could leave, start fresh somewhere else."

The idea is tempting, but I just don’t know. "Do you really think it would work? My family would never stop looking for me. And I know damn well the Cosa Nostra don’t allow their capos to simply leave. Besides, how would we live? Especially with a baby to support."

"None of that matters as much as you and the baby. I have money saved; we could leave the country. Go far enough away that we can’t be found.”

I consider his words. Do I really want to put myself in a position where I never see my family again? My best friend? Deprive my child of the stability of an extended family, uncles, grandparents, cousins? Live life on the run? Always looking over our shoulders to see if someone has found us?

---