“Eight weeks left—let the countdown begin,” Jenny teased.
Cara huffed as she bent down to pick up the rest of the art supplies on the small kiddie table. “Don’t remind me.”
“You’re thirty-two weeks pregnant, Cara. How can you not know it every second of your day?”
“That’s my point. I don’t need more reminders.”
Jenny laughed. “Uh-huh. Are you nervous, is that it?”
“Excited, but mostly …” Cara waved at her very large stomach that made it hard to sleep, eat, and almost every other function of life, including breathing some days. “I’m just over all of this.”
“Don’t worry. It will all be worth it in the end. Once you have the little one in your arms, all of the hells of pregnancy and birth will be forgotten.”
Oh, Jesus.
Birth.
That was another thing Cara was not looking forward to. Not by a long shot. That, she was scared of. Terrified, even. A baby—a small human—was going to come out of her body. Women might have been doing it for millennia, but sweet Jesus, Cara had not.
“Wow, you just went white,” Jenny noted.
Cara tried to be nonchalant as she put all the supplies away into their proper places. “I guess birth makes me a little worried.”
“When a baby gets in, Cara, it has to eventually come out.”
“Yes, that is the only guarantee about pregnancy. I’m well aware of that.”
“Women’s bodies are made for this, too.”
“Again, I know.”
“Then perhaps you should stop squeezing that glue bottle before you bust the top of it off,” Jenny pointed out.
Cara instantly dropped the bottle of glue into the container. “Okay, so maybe the idea of birth freaks me out a bit.”
“A lot, you mean.”
“Make it easy on me, Jenny.”
The older woman laughed, saying, “You know I won’t do that. My whole job is to make people talk about their deepest, darkest issues. Since no one else is around right now, I might as well work on you.”
“I’m not in need of a therapist, but thank you.” Cara shot the woman a smile. “Really, though, I know it’ll be fine. I’m just freaked out because I’m twenty-seven, very pregnant, and it’s almost at the end.”
“Which means?”
“My whole life is about to change?”
Jenny nodded. “But you know that, too. You know little man is going to change things for you, from your daily life, to school, to work, and that’s just the surface. Emotionally, physically, and mentally, change will come there, too. The fact that you know these things means the transition will come easier for you, from a woman, to a mom. Too many live in the clouds when they’re pregnant, and then baby comes, and boom, back down to reality. It’s a hard pill to swallow.”
“You make motherhood sound … like war.”
“For some, it can be,” Jenny murmured.
“I’m lucky that I have people to help,” Cara said, shrugging. “Like the ladies here, or my aunt and uncle. The father and some of his family, too.”
Cara said that last sentence quieter, and offered little to no information about Gian, his family, or who she meant.
“You say that like you’re leaving someone out,” Jenny noted.
Cara frowned, and turned to face the woman. “It would be nice to have my sister, too. You know?”
“To wish for things you cannot have, is human.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t like to dwell.”
“And I think it’s more than acceptable for you to wish your twin sister was here for this, even if it hurts a lot to think about. You shared your whole lives with one another. Boys, graduation, smiles and tears, laughter … life.”
Cara cleared the emotion lodging in her throat. “Yeah and this is one of the very few things we won’t get to share, so that’s a little hard. But it doesn’t matter, right? What’s done is done, so let’s get up, brush ourselves off, and move on.”
“It does matter, Cara. My advice is that you don’t hold those feelings in, or push them aside in pursuit of happier days, especially not now,” Jenny said, coming close enough that she could soothingly rub a hand over Cara’s back. “Because even if you think not dealing with those thoughts and feelings is better, you’re actually doing yourself, and the baby, a great disservice.”
“How so?”
“Babies have a way of reminding us of everything we are without once they come into the world, although unintentionally. The wash of hormones, all the changes, and everything else comes together like the Big Bang to make one hell of a combination on new mothers. Deal with how you feel now, so that when he is here, those things don’t surprise you.”
Cara nodded. “Okay.”
“And I am always here to talk,” Jenny added.
“Sometimes, I think you just like making people cry.”
“Hey.” Jenny covered a spot on her chest with her hand. “My heart. Did we not just have a deep conversation, of which you will take something away to use to help yourself?”
“So?”
“Remember what I said, Cara. Seriously.”
“I will,” Cara promised, “and thanks for making me talk. Too many people are fine and happy with me brushing them off when I say I’m fine, or something similar. You don’t.”
“Not my job to,” Jenny said, ticking a finger over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “Oh, well, hello there. Can we help you?”
Cara turned to look at who Jenny had greeted, only to see a waiting Gian standing in the doorway. “Gian.”
He pointed at Cara, a sexy smile growing on his handsome features. “I’m actually looking for her, as she has an appointment today, and I would like to join her.”
“You don’t have to do to that, Gian. They just want to make sure he’s turned properly now.”
“My son, so yes, I do.”
Well, now someone else could put a face to her baby’s father when Cara refused to.
Jenny shot a wink back at Cara. “Well, there she is. Why do you look so familiar to me?”
“My family is well-known in Toronto. We’re often on the news, or something similar.”
It took the older woman a moment to put together who she was looking at. A horrible sensation of dread dropped heavily in Cara’s stomach as she waited for it to click.
“Does the name Guzzi help at all?” Gian asked Jenny.
“Oh … my.” Jenny lost her happy disposition, but quickly plastered on a false smile. “Are you sure you’re in the right place, then, Mr. Guzzi?”
“Jenny,” Cara warned.
Gian rattled off something that sounded like a business name, but Cara couldn’t be sure. Jenny tensed, and then stared at Gian. “Really?”
“Yes. I thought I might take a look around while I was here, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Does she know?” Jenny asked.
Gian’s gaze darted to Cara, and then quickly back to the woman standing in front of him. “There was no reason for her to. It was a common thing long before her appearance and work here.”
“And the use of the business name?”
“No affiliation to a family name that may make some uncomfortable to be attached to, except in details that no one has time or need to dig into,” Gian replied with a smirk. “It does the same job as anonymous donations, of course, but simpler come tax time.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that.” Jenny looked back at Cara once again. “Thanks for helping to clean this place up. I will see you on Monday, right?”
“Monday,” Cara agreed.
Once Jenny was gone, Cara looked to Gian.
“What was all that about?”
“Pardon?” he asked.
“That vague, weird conversation.”
Gian shrugged his shoulders, his lips curving teasingly at the edges. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, mon ange.”
“Gian.”
He glanced away, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, the woman who started this whole place—”
“Carolina Demaske.”
“She was a good friend to my grandmother, on my mother’s side, especially throughout her life, long after she no longer needed the safe haven that Carolina provided. There was a time when my grandmother had no one else but for Carolina, and it was a message she passed down on us all.”
Cara took in those words and what they meant. “You donate money to the shelter?”
“Monthly,” Gian admitted, “and it is just one of many that I donate to, personally. I know my mother and father, and even my sister and brother, donate to other places or things they want to support. Carolina’s House has always been one I focused on, personally.”
“That’s … wonderful, Gian.”
“I have too much, I don’t need it all, Cara. I can afford to give some away. Unfortunately, there are those who are not comfortable with taking money from a man with my last name and affiliations, so I have become smarter about donating, using businesses as a shell of sorts, where my name is too deep into the paperwork for people to care.”
“And I take it, this started long before I ever stumbled upon this place?”
He laughed, dark and husky.
It nearly killed her every time she heard that damn sound come out of his mouth. It was so fucking unfair that all the pregnancy hormones running through her body made it even more difficult to control herself around Gian. All it took was one of his chuckles, a look, or a smirk, and she was a stupid pile of hormones and desire.
And oh, God.
Being touched?
Apparently, Cara’s body had nerves where they never existed before.
Gian loved that.
Cara was just … overwhelmed.
All. The. Time.
“Long before you,” Gian said. “I may have upped the amounts I donate over the last few months, but I tend to do that whenever I have a particularly good year, money-wise.”
“Oh.”
“So, the appointment?”
Cara picked up her jacket and purse off the back of a chair. “You don’t have to come for that, I told you. It’s just a checkup to make sure he’s where he’s supposed to be.”
Once she was close enough for him to reach out and grab her, Gian did just that. Cara found herself tugged into his side, his arm wrapped around her lower back, and then he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. Cara’s smile grew as her eyes fluttered closed.
“I want to go,” he murmured against her skin. “And then I would like to take you out to eat, get you home, relaxed and comfortable, and see what happens.”
“That does sound nice.”
Gian’s fingers danced over the column of her throat before he pushed her wayward curls aside. Just the feeling of his fingers against her skin was enough to make heat and lust bloom.
This was heaven and hell.
Cara had been trying to let Gian in more, and not be so guarded. Especially not where his wife was concerned, or even just them in general. She finally understood what he meant about circumstances and details muddling up a situation that most people only saw from the outside, and never what was below the surface.
He made her so happy.
He loved her so much.
Why did she have to give up those beautiful things, and Gian, because others said they were wrong? She wouldn’t. Certainly not now.
“I love you, Cara,” Gian said.
Like he could read her fucking mind.
“I know you do. You can say it in three languages, remember?”
He never forgot to tell her he loved her, in the loud moments, the quiet ones, and all the times in between. He never once forgot.
“And I can mean it in every one of them, Cara.”
No, they weren’t bad or wrong.
“I can’t believe it’s June already,” Stephanie said.
Cara glanced over her laptop, the dissertation she had been working on for the better part of two hours finally drifting from her mind. She welcomed the distraction. “I can’t believe I have one week left to finish this damn paper.”
“You’ll kill it, no worries there.”
“Thanks,” Cara said, smiling.
“But are you going to make graduation, or …?” Stephanie trailed off with a nod at Cara’s stomach. “How far along now?”
“Thirty-three weeks, and I probably won’t make graduation.”
“That sucks.”
Cara shrugged. “Late July ceremony is not going to coincide for me, unfortunately. I mean, I probably could make it, if I wanted to. But I’m going to be really, really pregnant, if I haven’t already had the baby by then. I figure since I already took time off from the shelter for around that time, I should probably use it to chill as much as I can.”
“I get that. And hey, the university does do the mini-ceremonies in the beginning of the new semester for those who took the summer to earn their final grades, or whatever.”
“Yeah, Professor Madele told me about it. She made it clear that if I didn’t participate in the coming one, I had better be there.”
Cara leaned back in her chair, resting her hand to the top of her swelled stomach. She thought the baby boy was already like this father, constantly wanting to move, never satisfied with staying still, and far too restless for his own good. Even in the womb. She could only imagine what he would be like after birth.
Still just like his father, probably.
“Miss Rossi?”
Two men dressed similarly in plain black suits approached the table, one already holding out a badge to identify himself. Not that Cara would have needed to see the badges to know the men were cops, or detectives. Growing up the way she had, cops were easy to detect. They all walked the same, dressed the same, spoke the same, and smelled the same.
Like a cop.
“Detective Seeley, and this is my partner—”
“Yeah, that’s nice, hello to both of you,” Cara interrupted. “What can I do for you?”
“Actually, Miss—”
“Cara, please.”
“Cara,” Detective Seeley said, drawling her name out for longer than was necessary. “Actually, Cara, we were hoping you might be able to do something for us. Or rather, help us with some information regarding Gian Guzzi.”
Cara passed her friend a look, although to Stephanie’s benefit, the girl was trying to look anywhere but at the detectives. “Hey, Steph, could you give us a few minutes?”
Stephanie nodded quickly, and gathered her things. “Sure can. I was about to head out anyway. Call me when you wanna meet up to sprint again, Cara.”
“Okay.”
The detectives kept quiet until Stephanie was gone. Thankfully, the library was mostly empty, as it was only mid-day, and the girls had picked a quieter part of the library to work. One between the bookshelves, where only two tables were set up in the large rows.
“All right, ask,” Cara said, glancing up at the detective once she knew they were alone.
“Can you confirm you have personal ties to Gian Guzzi?” the detective asked.
“Define personal for me.”
The man’s gaze dropped to Cara’s stomach. “We have reason to believe he may be the father of your child.”
“What reason is that?”
“Well, we can’t exactly give that information away, Miss.”
“Again, it’s Cara. I’m not married, I’m twenty-seven years old, and I’m pregnant. We have far passed the respectable lady stage in my life, thanks.”
“Is Gian Guzzi the father of your child?” Seeley asked.
Cara sighed heavily. “And if he is? I don’t see what that would have anything to do with detectives approaching me mid-day, in the library of my university, when I’m attempting to finish my dissertation so that I can get my diploma before my son is born.”
“Our apologies for intruding on your time,” the shorter of the two men said quickly. “But we have reason to believe your personal affiliation to Gian may help us with our current investigations.”
“And what investigations are those?”
Cara did not plan to make this easy on the police, but she also had to be careful with how much she pushed. Given her dual citizenship, trouble with officials could put her back across the border without so much as a paper to sign.
“Surely you’re aware that Mr. Guzzi is affiliated to some … criminal business in Toronto? We’re aware you visited him while he was serving time in jail, just a few months ago. We would like to discuss your relationship with him, and what else you may know.”
Cara took her time to save her document, shut down her laptop, and put her things away. She knew that no matter what, she didn’t have a choice but to play along with the detectives, and keep her nose out of trouble. That didn’t mean she planned to give them anything.
“Would you mind a trip to the station, just so that we can get our questions and your answers on an official record?” Seeley asked.
Cara waved a hand, as if to say, whatever. “Could I make a phone call before we go?”
“If you think you need to.”
“I think I do.”
The detectives probably assumed Cara planned to call a lawyer. She called Gian. He and a lawyer met her at the station.
Cara answered nothing after that.
“I can’t see anything,” Cara grumbled.
Gian’s hands rubbed her shoulders, his dark chuckles echoing in her ear. He kissed the spot behind her ear and then said, “That’s the point, mon ange. It’s a surprise.”
She reached up to try and readjust the blindfold over her eyes, but Gian quickly rerouted her arms back to her sides.
“Nope, hands stay down.”
“But—”
“Little ledge here, and then some steps, love, so be careful.”
Cara rolled her eyes behind the blindfold, but managed to get up whatever stairs were there with Gian’s help. “Can you at least give me a hint?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Where’s the fun in being told you’re going to have a nice night with ice cream and a back rub, only to be made to dress up and be taken out. In kitten heels, Gian. I couldn’t even wear my comfy shoes!”
“You will be happy that I made you wear the kitten heels. Someone might take pictures, and those shoes you wear do not look nice with a dress.”
“Says you.”
“And you, when you’re not thirty-four weeks pregnant, Cara.”
She huffed under her breath, hating that he was probably right. Then, she had another thought. “Why would anyone take pictures?”
“You’ll see,” her lover replied vaguely. “Gilles will drive you back to the penthouse once this is all done and over with, as it’s not the kind of event men are usually invited to and I have something to pick up across the city.”
“What happened to Chris?” Cara asked about her previous enforcer, who still refused to call her by her name.
“Chris has other things to look after at the moment. Sometimes, it’s better to put people where they get the best business done. Chris happens to be very good at getting information from people, and I need that right now.”
“Because of the cops?”
“Amongst other things,” Gian muttered. “We’re not talking about that tonight. This is all for you. And I thought you liked Gilles?”
“I do, he just …”
“What?”
“Talks a lot,” Cara said.
Gian laughed, his hands tightening on her as he directed her around a corner, or so she assumed. “He is a talker.”
“Chris barely talks at all, except to repeat orders or something.”
“Okay, enough of this, smile, bella.”
Cara didn’t know what he was talking about, but the blindfold was suddenly pulled from her face, allowing her vision to clear. It took Cara a couple of seconds of blinking, and a few shouts of “Surprise!” from the people standing around one of Gian’s restaurants for her to realize what was happening.
Pretty, pale-blue and green decorations littered the restaurant. Each table held different items—a spot for gifts, one for a massive cake decorated in similar colors, and the like. A banner hanging from one chandelier to another read Baby Shower!
Cara took in the people around her. Women she worked with at the shelter and the women from the shelter. Her few friends from university, and the professor she enjoyed spending time with and who had helped her through her difficult moments. And surprisingly, nearing the front of the guests, Cara found Gian’s mother and another woman, who, guessing by her features and how she kept close to Celeste, was probably his sister.
Crystal, Cara thought her name was. Gian didn’t talk about her a lot.
“You’ve been busy,” Gian said. “And working far too hard, mon ange. Ma asked about a shower for you, because she wanted to—at least—send something over. And then a couple of weeks ago, Jenny contacted me about helping with something like this to surprise you. You’re not too angry, right?”
Cara just blinked.
“Why would I be angry, Gian?”
How could she be angry?
“You don’t like surprises,” he said.
She had assumed, given the circumstances of the pregnancy and Gian’s marriage, and how busy her last few weeks before birth would be, that something like a shower was out of the question. She didn’t even think she knew enough people to have a proper shower, not that it was acceptable for her to plan her own, anyway.
She didn’t have to worry about anything, apparently.
Gian took care of things.
Always.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
Gian kissed the back of her head, never hesitating with all of the eyes watching them. “Enjoy your party, Cara. I love you, pretty girl.”
“I can certainly understand why Gian adores you so much,” Crystal said quietly, giving Cara a small smile.
“It’s a shame things are so … complicated,” Celeste added.
Cara cleared the awkwardness from her tone before speaking. “Thank you for coming, and for helping them set up, and everything else. Really, it was too much.”
“Nothing is too much. Not for my grandbaby.” Celeste waved her hand as if to dismiss that statement. “What a silly thought.”
“Cara, are you ready?”
She looked over her shoulder to find Gilles—the enforcer Gian had said was non-negotiable for the unforeseeable future—waiting at the front doors of the restaurant.
“Just a second,” she told the man.
“I’ll grab the last bit of stuff and put it in the truck.”
“Thank you.” Cara turned back to Celeste and Crystal, the last two guests she had yet to say goodbye to. Everyone else had already gone and the staff had mostly cleaned the place. Cara had managed to sneak a few keepsakes to put in her baby’s memory box of the day. “Time to get home and sleep, I do have to put in hours tomorrow at the shelter. It was very nice to meet you, Crystal. Thank you for coming, again. Really.”
The woman shrugged. “Maybe we’ll do something again soon, Cara. It just all depends.”
Cara didn’t ask what their future meetings would depend on, because she already knew. Privacy. Public opinion. Gian’s wife. She didn’t need the verbal reminders. Her mind never let her forget, now.
“Okay, let her go,” Celeste ordered. “And I want one more of those pretty blue drinks before we go, too.”
One more hug later and Cara headed out of the restaurant behind Gilles, whose arms were filled with his fifth round of baby shower gift bags, filled with too many items to count.
“Do babies really need all of this?” Gilles asked.
Cara helped to open the back of the truck, since her enforcer’s arms were otherwise occupied. “I don’t think they need all of it, but it certainly is cute.”
And Cara swore everybody oohed and awed over every little outfit, pair of shoes, and tiny rattle she pulled from the gift bags.
“But look at it. Look at all of it.”
She did.
The truck bed was filled.
It was a lot.
“I’m grateful,” Cara said, laughing.
“But it’s too much for a baby, right? Since when do newborns care how many outfits they have, or if they have a swing thing that bounces? Does the baby really need twenty pairs of socks, or bibs that look like bandanas?”
“He’ll use it all, eventually.”
Gilles shook his head. “It’s crazy. Women go nuts over this stuff, and I just don’t understand why.”
“I take it you don’t have kids, then.”
The man looked horrified.
“Jesus, no,” he muttered, glancing up to the sky at the same time he made the sign of the cross over his chest.
“I’m not sure God will help to keep the babies away, Gilles. They’re not demons or evil spirits.”
He stared at her with wide eyes. “That depends on who you ask.”
Well, she would give him that.
“To the penthouse?” Cara asked.
Gilles nodded, urging her around to his side of the truck. “The penthouse; boss’s orders.”
The backseat was also filled, as was the front passenger side, so apparently, she would be sitting directly behind him in the back.
Cara turned to thank Gilles as he opened the back door to help her climb in the lifted truck, but she didn’t get the words out. The last things she saw were dimmed car lights, before the vehicle turned sharply off the road, and headed directly for them. She felt the strong hands of the enforcer shove her into the truck at the very last second, but it was all black after that.
She could still hear the sound of metal crushing against metal when she woke up in the hospital screaming.
Gian.
She screamed for him.
And for her baby.