Page 161 of SINS & Riley
“Yeah,” I whisper, fingers trembling as I slam it shut. “I think I’ll be fine.” I hope.
“Are you in any danger at the moment?” the garbled voice asks.
My throat locks as pain rips across my stomach.
I glance down and freeze.
Fresh blood trails down my leg. Not the staged stuff. Not what I smeared there.
The real thing.
Fear claws through my chest. A sob rips out before I can choke it back. “I’m pregnant. I’m cramping. And—” Tears blur my vision as my voice cracks. “There’s blood.”
The voice on the line shifts. The distortion falls away, replaced by a man’s voice—steady, soft, and assured.
I don’t recognize him. Or maybe I should. There’s a flicker of something familiar, but I can’t place it.
And the way he speaks… it’s as if he knows me.
“You’re going to be fine. I’ll stay on the line with you. Stay calm. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, sniffling.
His voice is tender in a way I didn’t expect. Warm. Older, maybe. There’s something in his tone that feels… brotherly. Like he actually cares.
“What’s your name?”
I’m too wrung out, too raw to come up with a lie. “Riley. What’s yours?”
I think he’s about to answer when pain claws through me. I double over, gasping. “Ahh?—”
Instead of answering, he steadies me. “Deep breath in. Long breath out.” I do as he says. “Can you get more comfortable? A bed, maybe?”
“Yes.”
I crawl into the center of Zver’s bed, curl around his pillow, swallowed up by the crisp, masculine scent of him.
A broken laugh slips out. Once, I’d thought about crawling into his bed just to trick him—make him believe this baby was his.
My hand drifts to my belly, pressing soft as tears streak down my cheeks. My throat knots, choking on the truth that slices through me like glass.
This baby is Zver’s—it’s a bond beyond blood.
“Tell me something you see,” the man prompts, voice gentle. A distraction. A lifeline. He’s trying to pull me out of the fear clawing deeper with every cramp.
I sniff hard, wipe my eyes, and glance around the room.
A photo.
I lean closer to the bedside table, confusion hitting like a slap. What the?—
It’s a framed picture of Dante. Of his entire family. The exact same one Enzo has.
Why does Zver have this?
Does he know? That I loved Dante?
My chest caves, grief and panic tangling into one jagged knot. I lost Dante. I can’t lose Zver too.
