Page 30 of His Reward
“What would make a great story?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted the answer.
Mr. Monteverdi spent a few more seconds lost in his thoughts before focusing on me. “Lucien’s career is over, but he’s got the talent and the genes. And he’s an omega.”
“I don’t follow,” I said, even more dread pooling in my stomach.
Mr. Monteverdi left his coffee where it was and walked back over to us. “Everyone can tell that you’ve grown fond of my son, even though he’s been unconscious all this time. You’re the man who rescued him. You’re thealphawho rescued him.”
“Pietro, what are you talking about,” Mrs. Monteverdi sighed, rubbing her forehead like she had a headache.
“How would you like to marry my son?” Mr. Monteverdi said.
The question flew at me like an arrow. I actually flinched. “I, um….”
“I can see it now,” Mr. Monteverdi said, beginning to pace around the room. “The press would eat up the idea of Lucien falling in love with and marrying the hero who rescued him from the fire. Even if he won’t be competing at the Winter Games this year, I bet I could convince Jennifer Collier to do a human-interest piece about Lucien’s recovery and about his budding love story.”
“Pietro, really,” Mrs. Monteverdi said with a frown.
“In a few months, we could announce the engagement,” Mr. Monteverdi went on, more excited by the minute. “We could plan a winter wedding somewhere with ice. Lucien could skate down the aisle, it will be his first time on skates since the accident. Then, in a year or so, you’ll start a family. He can pop out a few kids, get them into skates at an early age. I’ll step in once they’re ready to compete and begin their training.”
He reached the end of the room and ended up framed by the stained-glass window that covered part of that wall just as thesun streamed through it. Hollywood couldn’t have planned the moment better, but it made me feel sick.
“I’ll be a little older and a little slower, but I’ll still be the best coach in the sport. Marco and Lucien were just practice. My real gold medal winner will be one of Lucien’s children.”
He looked so inspired by the tale he’d concocted for himself that it was almost laughable.
Almost.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Mrs. Monteverdi said, shaking her head and heading to the counter to fix herself coffee. “Our baby boy is still weak and bandaged in a hospital bed and you’re standing there planning out his hypothetical children’s lives.”
“It would be perfect,” Mr. Monteverdi insisted, crossing the room like he was determined to convince his wife. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they made a movie about it someday. You and I would be big parts of the story, of course.”
“You would be a big part of it, you mean,” Mrs. Monteverdi said, seeing right through her husband.
Mr. Monteverdi didn’t seem to catch on to the fact that his wife knew him too well. “It would be the continuation of a skating legacy,” he said.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mrs. Monteverdi said, then nodded to me.
Mr. Monteverdi glanced my way, like he had just remembered I was there. The self-absorption in his eyes made me wonder if Lucien ever felt like he was nothing more than a puppet in his dad’s theater, the way I felt right then.
“But this is everything someone like you could ever ask for and more,” Mr. Monteverdi said, marching closer to me. “You get to marry into skating royalty, and you get an attractive, well, formerly attractive, omega mate and talented kids in the process.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I didn’t think it was possible for a single person to actually be that selfish. The way Mr. Monteverdi looked at his own family as if they were nothing more than an extension of his ego was disgraceful.
But there was one, serious problem with the scenario he’d just painted for us.
I wanted it. I wanted Lucien by my side, as my husband and my omega, as the papa of my kids, more than just about anything else in the world. I wanted to be there every step of the way through his recovery, which was likely to be long and painful. I wanted to hold him in my arms on the bad days and cheer for him on good days. I wanted to help him get strong enough again so that we could play the way we had at Kincade Slopes.
Lucien was mine, and I would do everything in my power to have him and to keep him.
Mr. Monteverdi had the completely wrong idea about my hesitation. “I’ll pay you,” he said at last, tense but determined.
“Pietro!” Mrs. Monteverdi shouted.
“I don’t want your money,” I said, holding up my hands so there was no misunderstanding. “There’s no way I’m going to accept money to date or marry Lucien or anything like that.”
Again, Mr. Monteverdi misunderstood. “But when are you ever going to find a better omega than my son? Think of how beautiful and talented your children will be.”
“Lucien is not yours to sell,” Mrs. Monteverdi went on, still furious with her husband.
