Page 28 of Let Vengeance Be Mine

“Well, it’s not exactly the kind of thing we can keep secret for long.” He laughs as he moves to the dresser and picks up the necklace he bought for me last week.

“I don’t think she’s going to approve. She doesn’t like me, I could tell from–”

“What have I told you about getting worked up? It’s not good for our son.” Once he’s fastened the diamonds around my neck, he pats his hand over my tummy and smiles.

“Well, how about you don't invite your mother over for awkward lunches and then I won’t have to?” I look back at him through the mirror and give him a smart-assed smile.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know what you behaving like a brat does to me.” He spins me around and tugs my bottom lip between his teeth. The idea of him being rough makes my pussy leak into my panties, but I know this is as rough as I’m going to get it until I’m done being pregnant. Matteo only takes me gently, these days, I miss the way he used to pin me to a wall or slap my ass while he fucked me. And I know, from the tension in his body, that he misses it too.

“I’m just nervous,” I admit, playing with the lapel of his jacket and giving him the cutesy eyes that, just recently, I’ve learnt will always get me my way.

“We’ll get this over with and then I’ll make it up to you.” He moves away from me so he can fasten his cuffs.

“Well, since we’re telling your mom about the baby, don’t you think we should tell my father?” I step over to the wardrobe and take out the pretty, baby blue, summer dress that's hanging up. Matteo looks far too formal for lunch on the lawn and has stomped all over my idea to wear jeans and a tee.

“Tell your father?” He almost chokes on his laugh.

“Yes, Matteo. My father. Our son's grandfather. Like you said, this isn’t something we can hide forever. How long do you expect him to buy my story about rebelling and traveling the world? Do you plan on keeping me and our baby locked up in this house, forever?” I can see what I’m saying pisses him off, but I stand firm and wait for his answer.

“And what, do you suppose, I tell him? That I hate him so much, I took his daughter and forced my child inside her?”

“It wasn’t like that, and you know it.” I look away from him when I get a reminder of how fucked-up all this would sound to an outsider. “Besides, I have an idea on how we could make our situation more acceptable.” I slide the dress over my head and wait for him to come over and zip up the back.

Matteo carefully steps around me, lifting the zip up over my body, antagonizing slowly. Then leaning over my shoulder he whispers into my ear, so softly, that it tickles.

“Let’s hear it then, Princess.” His hands curl around my waist and he tugs me back against his body.

“I think we should face up to this.” I spin myself around so I’m looking right at him. “We tell him that we met at a party, just like I did your mom. We tell him that we’re having a baby together.” I take Matteo’s hand and rest it over my stomach, “And the two of you find a way to settle your differences for the sake of this little boy we’re going to have.”

“That’s not going to happen, Aria.” Matteo shakes his head, and I wish I could read the expression on his face.

“You seem to forget that, for my whole life, my father has wanted to use me for his advantage, an alliance with you would be an advantage.”

“Your father hated my father, he hates me, and I’m pretty certain he will hate our son.” Matteo gives it to me unfiltered and I can’t pretend his words don’t hurt.

“Will you ever tell me what he did to you?” I ask, brushing my thumb over his stubbly jaw when I see the pain and anger in his eyes that was there when I first met him.

“Come on, Mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” He smiles at me, sadly, before moving toward the door and when he holds it open for me, I take a deep breath and move out.

“Darling.” Mrs Romano greets her son with a hug, before offering me a tight smile. “You're still here, I see.” She raises her eyebrows, unimpressively, as she takes a seat at the table that's been positioned to look out over the mountains.

“She’ll be here indefinitely,” Matteo assures her, wrapping his hand around my thigh under the table, like he’s afraid I’ll bolt. The sarcastic look she gives me is savage and I lower myself by throwing one back at her.

“So, what was it that was so important that you dragged me away from Malibu?” She lifts her cigarette case off the table and takes one out, placing it between her lips, and when she goes to reach for her lighter, Matteo slams his hand over hers.

“I’m going to have to ask you not to do that,” he tells her firmly, and the look she gives him back appears to be as confused, as it is unimpressed.

“It’s not good for the baby,” Matteo adds, with a straight look on his face as he breaks the news. My stomach flips like I'm going to be sick when her eyes move from his, down to where his hand now rests, protectively, over my stomach.

“Baby?” She swallows uncomfortably, then tries to remain calm as she carefully places the cigarette back in her case and snaps it shut.

“Yes, we are expecting a son. Aria is 16 weeks along, now.” I hear both pride and determination in Matteo’s voice, and while his mother’s eyelashes blink a little more rapidly, I feel the tension in his fingers become tighter.

“I could get you the picture if you want to see it. We had a sonogram a few weeks ago.” I try to cut through the frosty atmosphere, and she shakes her head back at me, still too stunned to speak.

“What a convenient mistake to make.” She eventually manages to say something, taking the bottle of wine from the bucket on the table and holding up her hand at the server, who attempts to take over, so she can fill her glass almost to the brim.

“Quite the opposite. The child was planned,” Matteo informs her unapologetically, and she laughs, in tiny, little bursts that soon become hysterical.

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