Page 20 of Heartless Mafia Prince 2: Rocco & Ryah

“It was.”

“Shit, I hadn’t snorted coke since.”

I laughed. “Me either.”

My fingers fiddled with his red tie. “Five months later, I came back alone. I stayed for months.”

“Yeah, I remember you said your grandmother was sick, and you had to take care of her.”

“I lied. She wasn’t sick. Spencer, I need you to understand everything I did was to keep us safe.”

His brows lowered. “Rosetta, what are you talking about?”

“I was lying in your arms on the couch at your fraternity house. We were watching a movie. Your hand swayed to my stomach, and it moved. I swatted your hand away. You asked me what was that? I told you I was hungry. And that it was just my stomach grumbling. You stared at me weird. Like you didn’t believe me. Then you got up, walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a sandwich for me.”

Spencer didn’t say a word. His lips now formed a tight line.

“I left because I found out I was pregnant.”

He stepped back. “What?”

“If my dad learned I was pregnant; he would’ve insisted I get an abortion. So I came here.”

He retreated into the small house. Spencer gripped his head, pacing.

“And did what?” he roared.

“Had our baby.”

“Why would you hide it from me?” His finger slammed into his chest.

“At the time, I was just trying to keep our child safe.”

“In my world, I couldn’t have a child out of wedlock. And be the head of my family.”

“That’s the same summer I asked you to marry me. So you didn’t have to have our child out of wedlock, Rosetta.”

“Spencer, I was never allowed to marry you. We’ve gone over this. I could never tell my father how important you are to me. He’d kill you in an instant. Don’t you see. I don’t have control of my life.”

I palmed my face.

“That’s obvious. Who marries a man they don’t love?”

“Me, Spencer. Women like me born into this life.”

He sank into the fancy blue sofa. “What happened to our child?”

I reached for his hand. He hesitated before he took it. We walked down a short hallway; I pushed the bedroom door open. Arms and legs stretched; our child slept on the large mattress surrounded by pillows.

Spencer stepped deeper into the room. His hand flew over his mouth. “He has a head full of dark hair. He looks just like me when I was a boy.”

“I know I saw pictures.” Our son was the splitting image of Spencer. He had strong beautiful genes.

“Carmine has my long lashes and lips.”

“You gave him my middle name.” Spencer smiled, leaning over stroking his big curls.

“Why are you telling me about our son now?”

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