Page 80 of Captive Vows
“The baby is healthy. So is she.” That was the most clinical, emotionless way I could sum it up.
“Is she still dancing?”
I sighed, hating that I’d reverted to the old habit of watching her in the surveillance feed. Instead of approaching the studio and watching her in person like I’d enjoyed previously, I was reduced to watching her from afar. In that way, I wasn’t actually avoiding her. I was still keeping an eye on her and involved as a spectator. It wasn’t the same, but it was better than driving myself insane wanting to be with her like we were before.
“Yes. For now, she is.” It was only a matter of time before her belly would be too big for her to pull off most of her moves. She was nearing the end of her second semester, six months along, not five like Alexsei had guessed.
Viewing her on the surveillance feed from the dance studio was a paltry replacement for seeing her in person. But the remote view I had of her showed me how gorgeous she was with her belly swelling. It put another factor to how artistic she was as she danced and moved through the air. Art, but with the addition of the signs of pending motherhood on her figure to give her more of a glow.
When she reached her seventh month, this cold treatment between us gnawed at me. I couldn’t take it, but I was just as stubborn, giving her distance until she’d cave and come to me.
Thanks to Emil’s interference one night, when he tricked us into being in the dining room at the same time, the impasse was over.
She furrowed her brow at the sight of me entering the room. Pausing in pulling out a chair to sit for dinner, she looked me up and down with derision.
I sighed, shooting my son a glare.
“And there you have it,” Emil quipped sarcastically. He clapped his hands once and backed up. “I told Ivan I could pull it off. Enjoy dinner, you stubborn fools.” As he exited, he tugged the double doors closed to keep me and her in here.
“Funny,” she replied blandly.
“Hilarious,” I stated.
“Did you put him up to that, getting me in the room to have to suffer your presence?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No. I wouldn’t go to the bother,” I lied.
Seeing her up close and actually speaking to her felt like being born again. Like I was reliving the glorious thrill of her attention. Fuck, these past months were hard. I was desperate for her, but I was more desperate to hide how much I loved her.
“I see that the doctor has been updating you on the pregnancy.” She rested her hands on her belly, clasping them so her arms bracketed her bump.
“Of course.” I was in charge of everything in this house, in my world. She, and our child, were no exception.
“Which proves my point all along.”
I arched one brow. “You have been too stubborn to enlighten me with your opinions or supposed points lately.”
“Because you’ve demonstrated that what I want and my feelings don’t matter.”
What a spoiled, foolish woman. How could she not see that I gave her all this because I did care and because she mattered so much?
“This proves my point that you care only about this baby while not giving a damn about me.”
That’s not true. At all.
Yet, I couldn’t be the first to cave. If this was the first fight we’d have as anything like a couple, I would not be the one to lose.
I didn’t deny it. Instead, I flamed the fires of her hatred for me a little more. Maybe she needed to be angrier at me to snap and break at last. “Well, you have more worth now, giving me an heir.”
She slitted her eyes, incensed as soon as I was finished speaking. Fury lit up her face, but with how tightly she clamped her lips together, she wasn’t going to crack now.
I didn’t mean a single word of what I’d said, but it was so much easier to fight with her than to give her the truth. The reality of this situation was that I was lost without her. I missed her and yearned for her. I was desperate to the marrow of my bones to be near her again, to kiss and hold and touch her once more.
But that was riskier to explain. Simply put, I didn’t know how to love someone without destroying them. Maria had died because of her association with me and how I’d loosely trusted her to know how to defend herself as a born and raised Mafia woman, used to violence and threats. Emil had turned into a cold-hearted killer because he was my son and I’d encouraged him to work for the family.
No matter who it was, I would destroy them if I admitted affection and that I treasured them.
Feelings and sappy shit just didn’t belong in my existence.
