Page 14 of Luca
Honestly, I was surprised Cassio let him live.
My eyes roamed the room with disinterest while I searched for a certain woman with raven black hair. God, it just about killed me when she cried earlier. The only two women whose tears got to me were my mother’s and Margaret’s. I didn’t remember much of my mother, but I remembered every single meeting with Margaret.
I still remembered her as that scared little girl. Her terror filled blue eyes on her father bleeding on the floor. Her sorrow was my own. Her fear was my own.
Every time I saw her, something in my chest twisted. Painful. Hopeful. Or maybe it was hopelessness. I had lost her long before I had a chance to have her. I’d been a coward. I pulled the trigger.
If she’d known–
My heart weighed heavily in my chest. The self-loathing burned, which surprised me. I didn’t know that I was capable of that feeling but there it was. This incessant pounding when I thought of her was concerning.
I shook my head.
Maybe it was time for a physical. It could be an early sign of a heart attack. I hadn’t exactly been watching my diet lately because all I could think about was eating Margaret’s pussy. Jesus, her cunt was the only thing on my mind since that night in Vegas back in March.
Almost two months of torture.
If I was honest with myself, it had been years of torture. A little girl stole my heart long before I realized what that was.
And here we were. She was so close, but so fucking far away. The same hate lurked in her eyes. Did she remember the night her father died? Why else would she hate me?
It was the only wrong I had perpetrated against her. Since then, I have tried to rectify it all. I really had. I fought my father. I tried to be a better man.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a light pink dress. For a fraction of a moment, our gazes connected. I held her stare until she looked away. When she watched me, it sent warm awareness down my spine.
She narrowed her eyes before breaking our gaze and sauntering away with her head held high. My eyes remained locked on her, as they always did, and I watched her sneak off onto the terrace.
I excused myself, then stalked towards her. She sensed me before I had even spoken. If nothing else, she had good intuition.
“What do you want?” she spat out, without turning around to look at me.
“Just checking that you’re okay,” I drawled, my tone even.
My brother threw her under the bus earlier. His goal was to show her as ruined and easy, pregnant was an extra bonus, to make Callahan settle a debt by giving him Áine.
My teeth still fucking hurt from trying to keep my composure. She was pregnant. Fucker didn’t even give me a heads up. I sat flabbergasted, hearing the news that Margaret Callahan was pregnant. With my child!
The truth was that I didn’t like how Cassio had used her as a decoy. Of course, I would have liked it even less if he’d married Margaret instead of Áine. But if I said that to this woman, she’d run from me. At least now, she somewhat tolerated me.
Shit, things had gotten out of hand. Yet, I couldn’t find it in me to regret that shredded condom.
I’m going to be a father. I’m going to be a father. I’m going to be a father.
The words played on repeat in my mind, making my heart swell. I was happy about it. It’d tie the woman I obsessed over for years to me. I swear to fucking God, I’d be a good father. Nothing like Benito. I’d never let anything happen to my family and my woman. I certainly wouldn’t be the one to drive my woman to suicide, like Benito had done to my mother. I wouldn’t destroy my children like Benito tried to do to us.
Margaret slowly turned around, her elbows leaning against the high marble rail. Her eyes traveled up from my shoes until our eyes connected, a soft sneer curving her lips. Full of judgment and annoyance.
“And what will you do if I’m not okay?” she demanded, her tone full of sarcasm.
I slipped my hands into the pockets of my suit, leaned against the doorframe, and watched her. She wore the same expression she had the first time we met.
“I’ll make you better,” I deadpanned. I was serious too. That was my child in her belly. Our child. And I’d be damned if I let anything upset this woman. The problem was how to break it to her that she slept with someone she hated.
She snickered.
“The bastard son of Benito King could only make me worse,” she retorted. “I’d never stoop so low and let you touch me, Luca King.”Ouch.Okay, I could have gone without hearing such brutal honesty. “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man on Earth.”
Her words cut deep. The worst part. She wasn’t wrong. I was a bastard son.
