Page 193 of SINS & Riley
My throat tightens. “What?”
“He didn’t want you to miss a thing.” Mateo gestures across the room.
And there he is. Dante. Watching me.
I forget to breathe.
And because I’m clearly a possessed pregnant woman, I keep flipping through all his photos, and lose my breath all over again.
So many shots of me. Beautiful, haunting.
If I were in my right mind, I’d probably be filing a restraining order.
But I’m not.
I’m his.
And because I’m being stalked by a psycho, the pictures aren’t all sweet and innocent.
They’re a reel of the dirtiest, filthiest fairytales ever told.
A Sleeping Beauty shot—me unaware the camera was even there. Probably because I was busy teetering on the edge of an orgasm.
Another—Snow White—me wandering the grounds, head bent, lost in thought, dress lifted just high enough for him to catch the curve of my ass in the frame.
It was sweltering that day. I remember every second of it—because it was the day I found out I was pregnant.
And I felt so unbearably alone.
It would’ve been nice to have a heads-up that I wasn’t alone.
Because Dante was there, watching from behind that black Zver mask.
Even when I thought I had no one, when it felt like the sky was crumbling all around me, he was there. Always there. Tethered to my orbit.
Keeping me safe.
God, why didn’t he just tell me? How many hours… how many days did we waste?
You’re still wasting time, Riley.
My chest tightens. Maybe that voice in my head is right.
Before I can spiral, Enzo slides in beside me, handing over a plate piled high with canapés. His gaze drops, pointed, to my stomach. “Your sister says you’re not eating enough.”
I narrow my eyes up at him. “I literally just saw Kennedy. She did not say that.”
“Fine. Then I’m saying it. You’re not eating enough. You’re five months, six days, three and a half hours, and you’re barely showing.”
I roll my eyes. “Despite your newly minted doula certification, I’m eating just fine.”
It’s strange, this closeness with Enzo. Foreign and familiar all at once. By the time he’s pushing a second plate of food at me, it’s obvious he’s protective of me.
Maybe as much as I am of him now.
He’s so different now. Hard-ass mob boss on the outside. Psychotic teddy bear on the inside. And a man so far gone in love it leaks out of him with every look.
There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for my sister. He adores Kennedy. He dotes on the girls. Half the time, he’s carrying Truffles around like an evil villain’s designer purse.
