Page 66 of Pretty Little Disaster

“I was explaining to Bianca about the charity this is all for, she’s keen to help out where she can,” Gio cuts back in to help the girl out.

“I have a degree in finance.” Bianca picks herself back up, keeping her head held high. “That's how I ended up living in New York. What did you study at college, Madalina?” She attempts to make small talk.

“Me?” My sister does what she does best and smiles. “I didn’t go to college. I married a Mafia boss, instead.”

Dario lifts her hand to his lips and smiles adoringly as he kisses it.

LORNA

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” Nic asks as we follow the herds of people out of the dining room, through the lobby, and into the ballroom. It’s a real eye-opener, the ceilings are covered in ancient paintings that I’m sure tell a beautiful story. I just can’t hold my head up for long enough to appreciate it without feeling light-headed. I’m unsteady enough on these heels but I’m never going to admit that to Nic.

“It was delicious, but I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another thing until this baby comes.” I try not to think about how soon that could be. We may have had everything at home ready for weeks, but I’m still not mentally prepared.

Nic was right when he said I’d learn to love my bump. It may be very big and uncomfortable, but I think I’ll miss it when it’s gone, especially now that I’ve gotten used to all the wriggles and kicks.

“Are you okay?” Nic looks worried as he leads me over to the corner of the room toward a fancy chaise lounge where I can rest.

“I’m fine, why?”

“You just looked deep in thought.” He helps me settle down and I don’t care who notices when I kick the heels off my feet. These shoes were a terrible idea.

“I was actually thinking about how much I’m going to miss being pregnant,” I explain, sliding my hand under my belly and smiling down at it.

“Miss it?” Nic looks surprised by my confession. “Baby, you’re not sleeping, you can never get comfortable and–”

“I know, but it also has its positives. I like knowing he’s safe in there and feeling him move around. I like the way you look at me and I definitely like the way you touch me.” His hand is already resting on my stomach and when I think about it sliding lower, it makes my pussy flutter. You’d think, considering I’m the size of a walrus, that my sex drive would have slowed down, but no. Things are just as desperate and a little more awkward to orchestrate.

“I told you, I’m more than happy to knock you up all over again, I’m going to miss this too,” Nick whispers before teasing me with a graze of his teeth.

“Conte, I’ll bet you’d like to take a look at the Bentley and the jet ski that are up for auction, we have them on display out on the back lawn.” Our host for the evening, Mr Marchetti, interrupts us.

“I’ll be right out.” Nic looks up at him and when he stands up and offers me his hand, I shake my head.

“I don’t need to see a Bentley or a jet ski,” I tell him, what I need is to rest my feet. I stood for way too long before dinner, and my back is suffering from how straight those dining hall chairs were.

“You sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” Nic checks.

“I’ll be fine.” I smile up at him. These days I find it hard to remember a time when I didn’t like this man. My feelings for him seem to be getting stronger, and I know it’s not just apregnancy thing. Nic has a way of making me laugh, and at the same time keeping me on my toes.

“I won’t be long,” he assures me, heading out the open patio doors to take a look at what's on offer.

I look around the room at all the people that are here. People-watching has always been a hobby of mine. You can learn a lot about a person just from observation. I watch Madalina talking to the other wives, she has such a natural way of drawing people in, and it makes me smile to see her at work.

“Hey.” Bianca comes from nowhere and sits beside me.

“Hi.” I smile back at her politely, though I really wish she would go to Hell. I’d much rather sit by myself than make more small talk. I did enough of that during dinner with the Russo couple and the guy with the worst put-on Italian accent I’ve ever heard.

“How long have you got left?” she asks, gesturing her head to my stomach.

“Two weeks till my due date.” I don’t tell her what Dr Walsh said about the baby coming anytime. It’s not her business.

“I guess that will be the next step for me and Gio after we’re married,” she sighs. “Though I’d much prefer a few more years before the stretch marks and saggy tits come.” She puts on a laugh that makes me want to choke her.

“Credit to Nic, though, this little situation was a smart move.” Her finger waves over my body.

“What are you talking about?” I shake my head at her.

“Come on, his little sister being married to Dario was never going to be enough to get him a district. But add an heir to that equation.” She places her hand on my stomach and I scowl at her until she removes it. “The DeMarcos like the men who run their city to be settled, and have roots. Nic certainly put his root in you.” She lifts her eyebrows, then smiles at a couple as they pass us to look at a piece of artwork up for auction.

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