“God, do you have a home of your own?” I snap.
Riccardo was straight over when I returned in the morning from picking up Ajax from my parents’ house. I hug my son closer to my chest and he croaks, but snuggles in deeper.
“Answer my question.”
“Can you please leave me alone for one freaking day?”
He stands from the chair he’s clearly claimed as his own and stalks towards me. “Answer me.”
“Yes, it worked. He was very incensed and told me that I’m his and that’s that.”
He grins. Wicked. Evil. “That’s perfect. I think it’s time for you to work your way into his life now. You’re going to show up at his house, upset and distressed. He’s going to invite you in, and you’re going to give him exactly what he wants.”
I gape at him. “You can’t be serious.”
He shrugs. “He’ll never believe you’ll just reach out to him. He will, however, believe it if you’re upset about something and go to him.”
“You’re sick.”
“I’m a genius. You’ll have a week off, and then it’ll be time to kick this plan up to full throttle.”
“Have you thought about the fact that once I’m seeing him again, he’ll know where I live because Rafael knows everything?”
His eyes flicker. “He doesn’t know everything.”
I snuggle Ajax closer.
“And it won’t matter,” he goes on. “You tell him you want your privacy. You tell him you live with your parents. I don’t care.”
“He will have me followed.”
“Not if he’s not suspicious.”
“If he finds out about Ajax . . .”
“You tell him it’s Celia’s baby.”
I straighten my spine. “Have you looked at Ajax lately? He’s the spitting image of Rafael. Even I wouldn’t believe that lie.”
“It won’t come to that,” Riccardo growls. “Now stop being so damned annoying and just do as I say.”
“Whatever. Can you leave now? I’d like to spend some time with my son because you seem to be hell bent on having me separated from him.”
“A small sacrifice for his life.”
My skin prickles, and I shoot daggers at the older man. “Leave, Riccardo.”
He grins. “Oh, by the way, have you changed his name yet?”
“Out!” I snap.
He laughs all the way to the door.
When he’s gone I look down at Ajax. His shock of dark hair is thinning out. Mama says it’ll fall out before coming back even thicker. His eyes are the biggest, brownest eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely perfect.
“I’ve missed you, baby,” I say, stroking a finger over his cheek. He looks up at me. “Let’s have a bath, yeah?”
I carry him into the bathroom and run a bath, then I strip us both down and climb in, resting him against my chest. He loves this. It seems the only time we have together where the world isn’t against us.
I sing softly to him until his little body goes slack in my arms. He’s asleep. If he’s having a restless night, I do this, and it works.
“I love you, Ajax,” I whisper to the top of his head. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you. Everything.”
“Julie?”
I sigh at the sound of my mother’s voice calling through my apartment.
I climb out of the bath, trying not to disturb Ajax. I wrap him in a towel and go to the bathroom door, peeking out.
“I’m in the bath. Can you take Ajax?”
She appears at the door and reaches for Ajax. He stirs but doesn’t wake. “I’ll dress him and put him to bed.”
I nod and dry off, getting dressed and then joining her. Ajax is dressed and in bed, snug as a bug. I follow my mother out into the dining room and we both sit.
“What’s up?” I ask, drying my hair with a towel.
“I just wanted to see how you are.” Her eyes are big, and trained on me.
“I’m fine, Mama.”
“Are you safe? Well?”
“You mean is Riccardo tormenting me still? Then the answer is yes.”
Her bottom lip trembles.
“Please don’t,” I plead. “I can’t take it.”
“I just want us to go back to the way we were, Julie.”
“I don’t know if we can. My entire life is a mess right now, and I understand my part in that, I do, but I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive yours.”
She nods. “I know, and I understand it’ll take time. But I miss you.”
I miss her, too. But right now my only focus is Ajax. “When this is over, we’ll talk, but for now I need to do what I can to protect my son.”
She nods and stands. “I made a lasagna. I put it in the fridge so you didn’t have to cook.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice weak.
“I love you, Julie. Please remember that.”
“I love you too,” I say, my voice shaky.
She smiles weakly and leaves.
I drop my head into my hands.
Can this get any harder?
~*~*~*~
I stand out the front of Rafael’s house, my body thrumming with nerves, my face tear-streaked. Fake tears. Well, not entirely fake. All I had to do was think about my situation, and the possibility of losing my son, and bam there they were. Riccardo ensured me Rafael would be home and gave me some bullshit story about walking home from work and getting harassed by a group of men. And then to top it off, when I got home, I had a massive fight with Celia.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Riccardo’s making me look weak in front of Rafael, because he knows, he just knows, Rafael’s overprotective nature will ensure that he comes to the rescue. It’s just how he works.
I can’t believe I’m here, about to expose myself to a man I swore I’d never let in again. But, I have no choice. It has to be done. I approach the front gates where two men packing guns are standing.
“Can I help you?” one of them says, studying me with a suspicious expression.
“Can you please tell Rafael that Julietta is here?”
He narrows his eyes and pulls out a phone, dialing.
“Sir, I have a Julietta here wanting to see you. She is, ah, upset.” He nods. Hangs up the phone. Turns to me. “I’ll need to check you for weapons, but he has told me to let you in.”
I inwardly roll my eyes, but when the gates open I step inside and lift my hands, letting them frisk me. God.
When they’re done, I walk up to the front door of the massive, three-story house. He’s clearly not struggling for money, taking in the massive house and expansive gardens surrounding it. I’ve never been in it. Rafael never let me be part of his life before.
Before I can reach up and knock, the door flings open and Rafael stands, wearing only a pair of sweat pants. His long, strong body is right there in front of me, looking so fucking good it hurts. I try to keep the tears at bay. I keep thinking about how this is going to end for him. He’ll probably be killed. That seems to spur my sobs on, which confuses me because I’m not supposed to give a shit about this man.
“Julie,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. I want to throw myself into his arms. “What’s happened?”
“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I don’t know why I came here but I just . . .”
“Come inside.” He takes my shoulders and pulls me into the house. I don’t take much in through the blur of my tears and the feel of his warm hands on my body.
We sit on a leather sofa and he turns to me, swiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb. Dammit. Why does he have to do that? I cry harder. I can’t stop it. I’ve been strong for too long. This is no longer an act. My tears are real. My pain is real.
My heart is breaking.
“Tell me what happened?” he asks, swiping another tear away.
“I was walking to my car from work,” I hiccup. “And some guys harassed me. They surrounded me; I was scared. A couple came past and they scattered, but I was afraid. The
n I got home and got into a massive fight with Celia. Things are just so . . . fucked up.”
“Who were they?” he demands.
“I don’t know,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t know, but I was afraid. I didn’t know where else to go. I just . . . you used to make me feel safe and . . .”
“You can always come here,” he says, cupping my jaw. “Always, baby.”
Baby.
I cry harder.
How can I detach myself from this man when he means so much to me? I’m trying, really I am, but it’s really hard when my heart has other ideas.
I think of my son and squeeze my eyes together. This is for the best. I’m protecting him. I’m protecting my entire life. Maybe I should tell Marcus? Maybe I can get his help? No. Dammit. No. If I tell anyone I am risking my son, and I can’t do that.
“I’m sorry, I really just . . . I should go.” I pull back and stand, swiping my eyes.
“Sit down, Julietta.”
I shake my head, turning and rushing towards the front door.
“You came here for a reason, and we both know it,” he calls after me.
I stop, rubbing a hand over my face but not turning to look back at him.
“You want this as much as I do. You can run from it, but we both know it’ll happen eventually.”
“Rafael,” I whisper.
“Come, cara. Stay with me.”
My knees tremble.
“Please.” His voice is a hushed whisper. My heart cracks open wide. I have to do this, but I don’t know if I can. How can I betray him like this? How can I be the reason my own son’s father is killed? I never thought of it like that before, but the more I do, the more I realize that there might come a time in my life when Ajax will find out and he’ll want to know why.
Dammit.
“Julietta.”
Put your game face on, Julie. You have to do this. You don’t have any other choice. I turn slowly, swallowing down my emotion and attempting to put a block over my heart. “I’m not ready to sleep with you yet.”
My body is slowly going back to the way it was before Ajax, but I’m still suffering some light bleeding from his birth and my stomach looks . . . odd. I know he’ll ask questions, and I can’t give him answers to those so I have to make sure he doesn’t get into my pants until I’m certain I can explain the away the change in my body to a little weight gain.
It’s a big call; he may refuse, and Riccardo’s plans will go down the toilet.
“Okay,” he says, his eyes on mine. “We’ll wait.”
“I also need . . . space. Celia isn’t okay with you being around; she doesn’t like you and she lives with me now. My house is out of bounds. I’ll come to you.”
He nods, not questioning me at all. “If that’s what you want.”
“I need to ease into this, Rafael. I’m still not totally sure I’m ready.”
He gives a slight nod of his head and turns to me with understanding eyes. “Okay, cara.”
Dammit.
Why does he have to be so good about it?
He’s making this so much harder for me.
CHAPTER 7
“I don’t like this,” Celia mumbles, rocking Ajax in her arms.
“You and me both,” I say, sipping my tea and leaning back in the sofa.
“You’re going to get hurt again.”
My eyes meet hers. She was my rock when I ran from Riccardo to hide out while I was pregnant. She kept me afloat. She held me through my heartache. She made sure I was okay. Without her, I wouldn’t have survived—it’s that simple. Now, she’s watching me go through it all over again.
“I’m stronger; I know what I’m in for. I have to do this.”
She looks down at Ajax. “It’s not fair. I wish there was something we could do.”
“There . . . there might be something.”
Her eyes shoot up. “Explain. Right now.”
“So you remember Marcus who I met the other night at the bar?”
She nods.
“He’s a good friend of Rafael’s, and it turns out he is extremely smart because he figured out that someone was using me and that I had a baby.”
She blinks. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Because I didn’t want you to give me the look you’re giving me right now.”
She waves a hand. “Continue.”
“He said he could help me.”
“Do you believe him?” she asks, patting Ajax’s bottom when he stirs.
“I don’t know. I don’t honestly see how there’s a way that he can help me without someone I love getting hurt.”
“It might work out. You won’t know for sure unless you ask him.”
I stare at Ajax. “I don’t know if it’s worth the risk. Like I said, Riccardo probably has someone lined up to end me and my family if something were to happen to him. What could Marcus possibly do that I can’t?”
“I don’t know,” Celia says softly. “But I know this is killing you. It’s killing me. It’s killing your family.”
Guilt slams into my chest. “I’m doing the best I can, Celia. I’m terrified.”
“I know you are,” she says softly. “But you’re so strong. You’re so determined to get through this for the sake of this little guy”—she wiggles Ajax—“but you’re only one person, Julie, and you’re about to enter Rafael’s world again. I know you say you’re okay with that but the fact of the matter is you’re still hurting over losing him, and I don’t honestly think you can just be his faux girlfriend without any attachment.”
She knows me far too well. It scares me.
“I know,” I say softly. “But I just don’t see how I can get out of this without someone getting hurt.”
“Talk to Marcus.”
I shrug. “I might. I haven’t decided yet. At this stage, I just have to play the game.”
Disappointment flickers in her eyes but she locks it down. “I don’t want to see you suffering the way you did.”
I can see the pain in her depths of her gaze, and I know the exact moment she’s talking about. I shiver remembering it.
I curl up in the bathtub, my knees to my chest, my slightly swollen belly butting against my legs. The ache in my heart grows with every passing day. Not only have I been lied to by my own mother, but everything I thought I knew is false. I’m stuck in a spiral. The only safety I have right now is the baby growing inside me. Rafael’s baby. The moment he or she is born, I’m theirs. They’ll come for me, and they’ll make me do unspeakable things to the man I love to protect my baby.
I study the razor gripped tightly in my fist. Could I do it? To save us all, could I end it? It seems the only way out. If I do this, Riccardo no longer has anything to hold against me. But would he still go after my family just because he could? Or would he give up and continue his plan on his own? Would this protect both me and my baby?
The idea of taking my own life has my stomach twisting and my chest clenching. This isn’t what I want. It isn’t. But I feel as if I’m drowning and no matter which way I swim, there is no way up for air.
I squeeze my fist around the blade and blood bursts forth. Pain shoots through my palm, and I whimper. It hurts. It all just hurts. Something flutters against my leg. I drop the razor, shocked. And go still. Is that . . . is that my baby?
Another flutter. So real. So very real.
“Honey?” Celia’s voice travels through the door and before I can answer, she opens it.
I know what she sees. Me naked in the bath, blood dripping down my arm. Her face pales, and she rushes forward. “No, Julie. No.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, tears still running down my cheeks. “It’s not what you think.”
But it was. Wasn’t it?
Until my baby kicked.
Celia climbs fully clothed into the bath behind me, wrapping her arms around me. I start sobbing uncontrollably. It hurts. I just want it to stop. I want to make it go away, but nothing I do seems to ease the ho
llow ache in my chest. The fear for my life. The fear for my baby’s life.
“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to survive this.”
“The baby moved,” I choke out between tears.
“Our baby moved?” she says softly, her voice thick with tears.
“Yeah.”
“A fighter. A true champion. I always knew it.”
She puts her hand against my stomach, and in that moment I know I won’t be able to survive any of this without her.
“I’ll be okay,” I say, my voice thick as the memory fades away.
Celia nods, her smile weak. “I hope so, honey.”
Me too.
~*~*~*~
What the hell am I doing here?
Seriously. I need to turn around and go home. I’m taking too big of a risk. If Riccardo finds out I am here, he’ll kill me. He will just end it all. But last night, when I was holding Ajax close to my chest, I just knew I had to know. I had to know if this man really could help me.
I don’t have to give away any information. I just need to know what he can offer.
So I’m standing out front of his massive house, staring up at the wrought-iron gates. He told me I could come and see him anytime, but honestly, I’m still not a hundred percent sure he meant it. What if he’s not really Rafael’s friend but an enemy trying to use me too? I shake those thoughts from my overactive brain and lift a hand, ringing the buzzer.
“Yes, can I help you?” A male voice comes through the speaker.
“Ah, yes,” I say loudly. “I’m here to see Marcus.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Ah, no, but he told me I could come and see him anytime. My name is Julietta.”
“One moment.”
Right.
I stand for more than one moment. I stand for about ten solid minutes soaking up the rays of the morning sun.
Finally, the man speaks again. “Please come in.”
The gate makes a loud creaking sound and slides open. I wait for a gap big enough for me to get through, and I slip inside. It immediately starts closing. Not creepy at all. I walk up to the massive house, overwhelmed by its size. This outdoes Rafael’s house, and that’s saying something.
I reach the front door and it swings open before I can knock, and there stands the god himself, Marcus Tandem, wearing a suit and looking as delectable as he did the other evening. I raise a hand lamely and say, “Thought I’d pop by.”