Page 117 of Between Commitment and Betrayal
“Andy Baldeck’s family has no money left. You essentially bankrupted every company they had that you invested in, which was idiotic if you ask me.”
“What would you have done?” I rolled my eyes.
“I would have killed him.” Cade didn’t hesitate.
“Right. Well, I’m not an Armanelli.”
“No. You’re a Hardy, but I have a feeling you’ll be a lot like an Armanelli soon enough.” He chuckled. “Anyway, congrats on the kid.”
“Am I going to be godfather to the twins?”
“If I’m godfather to yours.” Fucker had to always have something in return.
“Fine,” I ground out.
“How’s that will treating you? Carl finished fucking you over?”
I nodded. Mrs. Johnson had given me the news that very morning that StoneArm wouldn’t be getting any shares of the company now that Everly was pregnant. “I guess so. Not that it matters at this point.”
“Did it ever matter? You still would have gotten the shares.” He was confident in that statement. He definitely knew something I didn’t. “I own half of StoneArm. The Stonewoods own the other half. I would have just given them to you had you asked.”
“You motherfucker—”
“You’re welcome for the baby and wife, dumbass.” With that, the connection clicked off in my ear. There was no point in calling him back. I wasn’t really mad because I’d gotten her from it.
She rolled over and cracked an eye open. “Who are you talking to?”
“Outrageous family members,” I grumbled and pulled her close to me.
She pushed away and got out of bed quickly, running to the bathroom to vomit. I jumped out from under the comforter and stumbled in behind her as fast as I could. “This flu is insane. I’m calling the doctors again,” I murmured as I came over to her to pull her hair back and let her heave.
“No. No. It’s just morning sickness.” She took a shaky breath. “I think.”
“I’m calling them.”
She sighed and sat down by the toilet while I dialed more numbers and rubbed her back. The doctor returned and took vitals again. She was twelve weeks along and morning sickness had started with a vengeance. Her fever had broken, but it hadn’t provided me any reassurance. I wanted her in bed, wrapped in a cloud of blankets, sipping shakes full of nutrients and watching her favorite shows. I made sure that’s what happened for the next three days.
On the fourth day, she glared at me. “I’m going to work, Declan, and so are you.”
“Not an option. You’re sick,” I countered.
“We’ve both been MIA for almost a week.”
“Half a week.”
“So what? That’s still a long time. My body needs to move. I’m not even sick anymore.”
“You threw up this morning,” I shot back.
“I throw up every day. That’s part of being pregnant.” She darted past me, and I would give that to her. She definitely was more agile than she’d been a few days ago. “Where’s the suitcase of my stuff?”
I’d been laying her clothes out every day and had already put her toothbrush in our bathroom. I pointed her to the closet where I’d organized some of her clothes while she’d been sleeping. “I put them away.”
“When?”
“When you were sleeping.”
“You’re moving me in here when we haven’t even discussed if I should be staying here. I should be at the guesthouse or—”
