Page 30 of Kinks of a Billionaire
“Is that true, young man?” I shifted around to face Father in the back seat, about to answer him when Father Miguel held his palm up. “I want to hear from the groom-to-be.”
“It is.” Royce’s serious expression revealed nothing. “My mother was a devout Catholic and taught me to follow the word of gospel.” I blinked, trying hard not to show my shock. We were on a fast train to hell. “Willow is pregnant, and our child will not be born out of wedlock.”
Oh, shit.
Father Miguel flicked me a disapproving look that told me I’d be burning in the eternal fires of hell unless he blessed this union.
“You had extramarital relations, child?” I flashed him a guilty look. “Do your parents know?”
“No,” I croaked.
He shook his head, watching us like we were two fallen angels and only he could resurrect us back into respectful status.
“I will bless your union.” I sighed a relieved breath. “But only for the unborn child’s sake.”
“Thank you, Father,” Royce answered, a hint of laughter threading through his voice and dancing in his dark eyes.
Fatigue slowly crept through my body, aches intensifying by the minute. It had been a long day, and noon hadn’t even come around yet. I rubbed my belly gently, warmth spreading through me with the thoughts of a little miracle growing inside me. I couldn’t wait to feel the movements, hold her or him in my arms, a fierce protectiveness blooming inside me.
Five minutes later, we walked up the steps leading us to the church. The Lisbon sun shone bright in the cloudless sky, promising a dreamy future. Still, nervousness and a cold sweat encased my body. Royce’s presence and his hand on the small of my back, his thumb brushing against my bare skin, became a comfort I would be lost without. With each step, the light scent of his cologne consumed me in familiarity, and every inhale drew more of him into my lungs. My feet faltered when we reached the top step and I saw who was waiting for us.
My best friends, Aurora and Sailor, stood with their husbands, dressed to the nines. And there, just past them, stood my wonderful parents, smiling at me fondly. Not a hint of apprehension in their eyes. Like they knew this was where I should be, and with who.
“Finally!” Sailor exclaimed, running over to me with Aurora in tow. It wasn’t until they were a few feet away that their steps froze, and I remembered I’d forgotten to hide my bruises with concealer.
“That fucker,” Aurora hissed, clenching her fist while her shadow—her husband, Alexei—came to stand behind her, a cold expression on his face. If it was aimed at me, I’d probably pee my pants, but thankfully, I knew it wasn’t. Alexei Nikolaev was one of the good ones walking this earth, despite his mafia connections.
“I knew he wasn’t right for you, but never could I have imagined he would dothis.” Mãe’s voice filtered through, breaking Sailor out of her stupor. “Aquele filho da puta.”
“Mrs. Auclair!” Father Miguel stared at my mãe in astonishment, clearly not used to hearing her curse—though, I imagined if he knew the reason behind my bruises, he’d be calling Stuart a son of a bitch too.
My father, on the other hand, cursed like a sailor. “Je vais tuer cette pièce de merde.” Thankfully, the priest didn’t understand French and would hopefully never know about the threat my father just leveled against Stuart “the piece of shit.”
Their hands wrapped around me and my throat tightened. Pregnancy had made me emotional, but this time, I was certain the past twenty-four hours were to blame.
“Raphael, I think we should kill him,” Sailor said to her husband, who was the head of the Colombian mafia.
“No, you’ll leave the killing to me,” my father retorted decisively, the seriousness of his tone concerning. “You have more years left on this earth than me.”
“Stop talking nonsense, Mr. Auclair,” my mother scolded him. She always called him that when she didn’t like what he was saying. “Nobody is killing anyone. This is our daughter’s day, let’s not ruin it with nonsense.”
I buried my face in my father’s chest, the familiar scent bringing forward so many comforting memories of my childhood.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I should have never let it go this far.” I was talking about the preparations for the wedding, how I’d ignored the signs of Stuart’s violence, and my lack of feelings for him.
My mother’s hand brushed against my curls, pushing them behind my ear, while my father kissed my forehead.
“Don’t you worry about any of it,” my father assured. “We had a feeling something was wrong. We should have insisted you tell us.” He cupped my cheeks gently with his aged hands. “Is this what you want?”
“We love Royce,”Mãeadded softly, beaming like a ray of sunshine. “And admittedly, I’ve always hoped you two would find a way to each other.” Her eyes flicked over my head, and I followed the trail. Royce stood to the side, giving my parents and me some privacy while my best friends badgered him. “When he sent that message, I was thrilled, but it’s a bit rushed. No?”
I tore my gaze away from Royce’s coal-eyed stare and found my parents’ attentive eyes on me, probably seeing more than I’d ever be able to say.
“Yes, I’m sure.” The conviction they saw on my face must have assured them. “Now, how bad do I look?”
“You’re beautiful,” my father said. “Although, when I get my hands on him, Stuart won’t be able to say the same for himself.”
I smiled. “Royce already took care of him.”
