Page 60 of Sexted By a Stranger
But as a mother?
My child. Should this little life growing inside me spend its existence under the constant threat of gunfire? Would they have to witness life's cruelty and live with that crushing despair, just like I had?
No. Never. Ordinary hardships were a burden enough—how much worse would it be in this dark kingdom? I couldn't let my child live that kind of life.
Take Mom and Leon and leave.
We could move to another city, start fresh.
But would Luca really let us go that easily?
I shook my head, trying to clear my confused thoughts. Maybe I was imagining him to be worse than he was. Maybe Luca wasn't as dangerous as I thought, maybe…
The door opened.
It was Luca.
He looked like he'd just finished handling business, his brow still shadowed with lingering seriousness and a hint of exhaustion.
As he closed the door behind him, his left shoulder blade twitched slightly, making him frown.
My heart clenched, and a sharp pang of worry overrode all my previous chaotic thoughts.
I practically jumped up. "Did your wound open again?"
My fingers were already reaching for his shirt.
"I'm fine, stellina." Luca chuckled softly, catching my hands and guiding me to the lounge chair.
"What are you doing up here alone so late?" He stroked my hair.
"Let me check your injury first." I was still worried, pulling his shirt away from his left shoulder. Only after confirming it hadn't reopened did I breathe a sigh of relief.
"Forget about my wound," he paused, his palm sliding down to rest on my slightly cool abdomen, "I'm worried about you not feeling well."
My body instantly tensed.
"Sheila," he caught my stiffness immediately, "you looked pale this afternoon. Feeling rough?"
Being held with such tender care, my eyes suddenly grew hot, and I managed a thick-voiced "Yeah."
Exhaustion, morning sickness, and the secret I couldn't share all crashed over me at once, nearly drowning me.
Luca didn't press further, just tightened his arms and pulled me deeper into his embrace. His warmth seeped through the thin fabric, and the room filled with nothing but our mingled breathing and his steady, strong heartbeat.
After a long moment, he loosened his hold slightly. "Don't tough it out anymore. Go to sleep." His voice was impossibly gentle.
"Okay."
He took my hand, leading me down the hallway toward the bedroom. A breeze stirred, carrying the faintest trace of a sickly sweet, metallic scent from him.
Nausea hit me like a wave. I shoved him away, covering my mouth.
"Sheila?" Luca reached out to steady me, immediately sensing something was wrong, watching me with concern. "What happened?"
The sick feeling intensified. I bit my lip hard, fighting the urge to throw up.
A terrifying thought flashed through my mind—what he'd just been "handling," could it have been—
