Page 74 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

I remember that fire, not that I’d tell her that, because a part of her believes I’m the one who set the fire. It makes sense. I’m the only one she knows in the business. Who else would she blame? That’s okay. I’ll gladly take the fall if it means Sophie can put her mind at ease.

But that fire—

“You’re staring at me,” she mumbles, rolling over to her other side, and giving me her back. “We don’t have to leave yet, do we?”

“No, Sweet Sophie. Sleep. I’ll order us breakfast soon. I’m going to shower though, and make a few business calls, okay?”

“Mmmkay,” she murmurs, going right back to sleep.

I chuckle, kissing her shoulder before rolling out of bed. Sitting on the edge, I stretch, lifting my arms above my head and my back cracks.

Groaning, I stand, my cock lying half-hard against my thigh, still wet from when I took Sophie last.

When we stumbled through the door in the middle of the night, nothing stopped me from ripping her dress from her body. Now, it lies in tatters on the floor. Her clutch is open, and a few things spilled out. I bend down to pick them up, stuffing her lipstick, eyeliner, and a few other things back in, when I happen to look inside.

My brows furrow as I dump everything I just put back inside and pull out a small box.

Plan B.

“What?” I whisper. I can’t be looking at what I think I’m looking at.

This is impossible.

Has she been taking this every time we’ve been together?

I clutch the box in my hand, taking a deep breath as anger builds in my chest. Why am I so fucking mad at her right now? She could have talked to me about this. We could have…we could have made a compromise.

Internally, a frustrated groan echoes in my head.

She wouldn’t have talked to me about it because she thinks whatever is between us is temporary. She doesn’t take it seriously—not like I do.

Without thinking, with all the strength and force I can muster, I throw the box against the wall and yank sweatpants from my luggage. I run my fingers through my hair, and panic snags in my chest at the thought of not having her bound to me.

I snatch the box from the floor and stare at it again, knowing this is her decision. She shouldn't be forced into anything, but she has to be mine. There isn’t an option. I can’t give her a reason not to be with me. If she’s pregnant, it means she’s mine.

“Matias? What’s wrong? You’re breathing hard again,” she giggles but it’s mixed with sleep. The sound only makes me love her more. “I can’t go again. I’m sore. I need a break.”

I turn around, waving the box in the air. “What the hell is this? What is this, Sophie?”

The smile fades from her face, the happiness shining from her eyes gone in an instant.

She doesn’t say anything. Sitting up, she clutches the blanket to her chest. “I didn’t know if I was going to take it or not. I just needed a sense of safety. For peace of mind.”

“How many times have you taken this so far?”

“What? None!” she shouts, scooting to the edge of the bed but keeping herself covered. “I haven’t ever taken it before. I was getting scared.”

“Why?” I don’t yell it, but it comes out broken with shock. “What have I done to scare you? Haven’t I shown you I’m here for you? I want you. Damn it, Sophie. All I have done is show you how much I crave you. So, what is this? Do you not want me?” I lift the box in the air. “Just tell me now.”

“Of course I do. I just… I just thought that I needed a plan. Another plan. I wasn’t sure if getting pregnant with a man that would leave me in the end was something I wanted.”

“Leave you?” I shout. “Leave you? I’m not the one thinking about leaving, Sophie. Obviously, you are. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to take this fucking pill.” I tear the box open, punching the small white pill from the foil container.

“We weren’t safe. We haven’t been safe. We don’t really know each other—I don’t know, okay? I want you. I want to be with you, but being pregnant scares me. I don’t want to be alone with a baby. I needed a plan.”

“Alone? You’ll never be alone again, Sophie. Not as long as I’m alive and I’m fucking breathing.” I march my way to the bathroom, toss the pill in the toilet, then flush it. “Now, you can’t take it.” I feel vindictive and a bit vengeful. I’ve never been so worked up in my entire life. I’m fuming.

But more importantly, I’m scared.

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