Page 19 of Shaw

I never had a vision of a wedding night, not beyond being forced to participate in a sexual encounter with someone I didn’t want to marry. So, to have a wedding night with Shaw, someone I’m not only attracted to but also kind of like, makes the day feel somewhat special.

He clears his throat. “Can I touch the baby?” His eyes gleam with uncertainty.

I startle at his words, feeling incredibly guilty that he hasn’t felt our baby, hasn’t so much as experienced anything regarding our baby yet.

“Of course. You don’t have to ask, Shaw. This baby is yours as much as it is mine.” His shoulders relax, and he places his large palm on my stomach. The simple touch feels like a blanket of protection and care.

My bump is neatly round and the size of a soccer ball already. “Can you feel the baby move?” he asks.

I smile at the serious expression on his face as his hand gently moves in each direction, trying to feel for movement.

I take his hand and move it to the spot my bump always moves and hold it there. “I usually feel it here.” Shaw nods but doesn’t look away from our connected hands, and as I’m about to tell him the baby must be sleeping, there’s movement.

Shaw jumps. “Fuck, Emi. I felt it.” His face breaks into a huge smile that makes me smile back. “Jesus. That’s incredible.”

“It is,” I agree with a smile. Ever since the baby started moving, I’ve felt an emotion I’ve only ever heard of: love.

I’m sure I love my brother too, but in the Mafia, respect comes above all else. According to Luca, love has no place in the Mafia.

My heart sinks at the thought of our sister’s death. Any bit of love Luca could have felt would have been abolished the moment she died. Of course it just solidified his opinion.

“You’ve had doctors appointments, right? Everything’s going okay?” Shaw snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Yes. Luca insists on the best.” I roll my eyes with a smile on my face.

Shaw drops his head against the pillow and places one hand behind his head while tugging me to lie on his chest. I throw my leg over him, and he weaves his free hand around to hold onto my bump. I’ve never felt so close and so treasured in my entire life, and the thought makes me warm, but a sliver of panic rushes through me at how dependent I’m becoming on him already.

“Tell me about yourself, Emi.” He sighs. “Jesus, how fucked up is it that I barely know you. But...”

“But?” I question, lifting my head enough to face him.

His eyebrows furrow, as though confused. “I feel close to you.”

“Me too,” I admit while my heart races at his words.

“Maybe it’s the baby.” He tilts his head toward my stomach, and my heart plummets. Of course it’s the baby. It’s the only true connection we actually have, and I need to remember that.

“I’m twenty.”

He chuckles. “I know that part.”

“Okay, well, I’m almost twenty-one. That’s when I was due to get married.”

He stiffens below me. “What’s he like? The guy you were supposed to marry. Did you love him?”

My heart pounds in my chest. “His name’s Ravlek, he’s thirty-three and part of the Russian Mafia, equivalent to our Capos. He held out on getting married for me.” I hold his eyes.

Shaw stares back at me. “You were more than a deal to him. He liked you.” It’s a statement not a question.

I nod. “Yeah. I didn’t like him back. He’s cold and ruthless. A bastard.”

Shaw grins to lighten the mood. “He sounds like your brother.”

I bite my lip to stifle a laugh before my heart sinks when I think of Luca’s pain. “He’s hurting. He’s always had to be the strong one. Women are allowed to be weak. Expected to be.” I swallow away the guilt when I consider the weight Luca holds. “My sister, Eleanor, was murdered by an opposing Mafia family five years ago.” Tears well in my eyes at mentioning her, but I refuse to let them fall.

Shaw freezes. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “When Luca found out, he went wild. He was determined to end the bloodline of the Ricci family altogether.”

Shaw’s heart is racing below me. “Did he?”

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