Cara had forgotten how comforting and familiar Gian’s penthouse was for her. All the tall ceilings, the warm whiteness of the rooms, and the wide windows that could make someone feel like royalty looking down on the city—it was beautiful.
The walls of the penthouse had heard her secrets and given her a safe space, all those months ago. They had shut out the world and let her learn who Gian Guzzi was underneath his charming, mysterious mask. Or rather, who she had thought he was.
He’s still the same man, her mind whispered, but with added baggage.
Yes, if only it was that fucking simple.
Cara learned, as she snooped through Gian’s office and wandered into his walk-in closet, that the penthouse still held pieces of her time from before. One of her chokers hung from a small brass hook in the jewelry case, resting alongside a half of a dozen Rolex watches. Bangles she had slipped off her wrist still sat in a glass bowl. A jacket she remembered tossing over the bedpost one night in her haste to get in the bed with that sinful man had been hung up in the closet alongside Gian’s things.
Gian had no reason to keep her things; to leave the items where she had placed them, or to move them to safe spots where she could find them again.
And yet he had.
Gian kept the tiny pieces of her with him. Cara didn’t know if that was because, one day, he planned to return them. Maybe he wasn’t willing to scrub her from his penthouse or his life.
There was something else that became painfully obvious as she snooped. His wife held no place in his personal spaces. The woman was nowhere. No clothes, makeup, pictures, or mementos. It was as though—only here—she did not exist.
Or perhaps he didn’t want her to.
Cara also didn’t want to think on it for too long. Thinking for her almost always led to overthinking, and that was a problem. She already knew Gian loved her, and she didn’t think for a second that he would say something he didn’t mean, but it was all the rest of the details that came along with it where she hesitated.
Cara didn’t want to hesitate.
Not for Gian …
She decided, when it was just after dinnertime and she was still at Gian’s place, that it was the only reason why she was there. Comfort and familiarity. Nothing more, nothing less.
Cara was also pretty damn good at lying to herself.
And overthinking.
She should have been gone hours ago. Instead, she stayed, putting the shower in the master bath to use, and then ordering in food for lunch and supper. She had answered the one text from Gian earlier in the day, but he had yet to send another.
Cara didn’t know if that was a purposeful move on Gian’s part, or not. It would certainly be smart of him, to let her have the few hours that kept them apart without his voice in her head so she could work through her shit. She was always working through something.
It was only after supper time had long passed, that Cara began to think something might be wrong. She shot Gian another text and got nothing in response.
Cara was just slipping on her shoes to leave the penthouse, after sending another text to Gian that explained he could call her when he had time, when the elevator into the penthouse opened. Chris—Gian’s man that had kept an eye on Cara months ago—rushed into the place with a black messenger bag clenched in his hand.
He only hesitated when he saw Cara coming down the hall.
“Sorry, I thought you might be Gian,” Cara said.
Chris cleared his throat and glanced back at the elevator. “Boss brought you over?”
“Last night.”
The man didn’t even look surprised. “All right. You should head out.”
The lilt in Chris’s tone made Cara stay right where she was. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that you need to worry about, miss.”
“It’s Cara.”
“I still know your name and I still prefer what I use.”
Cara frowned. “Because I’m not his wife, or—”
“Because respect matters,” Chris interrupted as he slid past Cara in the hallway. “Now, I’m serious. Get out of this building, preferably within the next ten minutes or so.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t leave anything behind, did you?”
“Why aren’t you answering my questions?” Cara demanded.
Chris pulled open a drawer in the decorative hallway table, and yanked out a gun, dropping it into the bag. Cara gaped like an idiot, wondering how she had never noticed that weapon there before and how many others might be hidden in the penthouse.
Then, she had an even more pressing thought.
Why was Chris here?
He never used to come inside Gian’s penthouse without permission. No one had ever done that, from what Cara remembered. If he was doing this now, was it because of the weapons? Did he know where they were, or most of them, and did he need to get rid of them for some reason?
“Chris—”
“Okay,” Chris said, turning to face Cara with a blank expression. “Cara, you need to go unless you feel like getting dragged down to a police station to explain why you are in the boss’s place, and what you were doing here with him, amongst many other things they’ll ask. If you left something that will say you, specifically, were here, then get it and go. I don’t have the time to baby you out of this place, I have shit to do.”
Cara still didn’t move. “Where is Gian?”
“Right now, he’s either in lock up or being questioned. Based on whatever they picked up at the mansion, their warrant for this place was on the way. Do you want to be standing there when they get here or what?”
Shit.
“I should go,” Cara said.
Chris nodded. “Yeah, do that, and fast.”
Cara had just walked out of the front doors of the building when the first cruiser and unmarked car pulled up on the side of the road. The officers and one plain-clothed detective with his badge hanging around his neck, walked past her as though they had no interest in the redhead leaving the building.
She hailed a cab, and didn’t take a real breath again until she was back at her place, and hidden in her bed.
What just happened?
The question kept banging around in her head. Cara didn’t even know how to answer.
“I’m starting to think that you don’t know how to return a phone call.”
Cara almost fell off the stepladder she was using to put away groceries in the pantry at Carolina’s House. “Jesus, Zia, make some noise.”
Her aunt, Daniele, only cocked an eyebrow in response.
Carefully, Cara climbed back down the ladder, ignoring the way the floor swayed a bit under her feet when she wasn’t so high up anymore. Her new issue with heights and vertigo was becoming annoying, but she ignored it.
Ignoring it was easier than dealing with what it meant.
“I’ve called you three times this week,” her aunt said.
Cara shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
And avoiding.
She had been avoiding everyone and anything related to the Guzzi family, the police, and the current investigation into their business for three entire weeks. That also meant ignoring her own family, mostly her aunt and uncle, who had been just one of many to be dragged into the city for questioning by police.
Cara knew better than to get involved.
Gian wouldn’t want her to, she was sure of that.
Of course, Cara had been keeping up with what she could. It seemed Gian had found himself in jail under a half of a dozen weapons charges, and according to the news, the weapons had been found at the Guzzi mansion. The weapons didn’t entirely relate to the investigation’s main objective—whatever that was, as the info hadn’t been offered—but the unregistered, illegal weapons were still grounds for charges.
Canada did not like guns on the streets, especially not illegal guns.
Given Gian’s name and affiliations, a previous arrest for assault with a weapon, and his ability to up and leave the country, simply because of the amount of zeros in his bank account, he was remanded to the jail until his trial. A trial which was likely going to be sped up when Gian accepted a shorter sentencing term for a deal that was offered regarding the charges.
Or so Cara heard …
She was trying not to get involved. She was trying to keep her head low and stay the hell out of it all, so then she didn’t get dragged into a mess, too. That was the message passed along to her during a late-night visit from Chris. The man had shown up at her door with those instructions from Gian, and very little else.
Cara didn’t have much of a choice but to agree.
As it was, her life was already a fucking mess for more reasons than just Gian’s arrest. She didn’t plan to add to it with stupidity.
“Did you need something specific?” Cara asked her aunt. “Because I really need to get done here, so I can go home and work on my essay due next week.”
“No, I just worried about you, Cara. You haven’t called, or been around. I wanted to check up on you. I know you’re here a lot throughout the week when you’re not at school, so I thought I would drop by today since I was in the neighborhood.”
Her aunt seemed sincere enough.
Cara decided to placate the woman.
“I am fine, Zia. But I am busy, really. I promise, I will make it up to you, and come over for dinner this weekend. I have nothing else better to do, okay?”
Daniele pursed her lips, but eventually smiled and nodded. “Fine, that sounds good. And you are well, aren’t you?”
“Yes, why?”
“You’re looking a little green today, that’s all.”
Cara swallowed the nauseous feeling building in her stomach and crawling up the back of her throat. It was not the easiest thing to hide—especially when the random vomiting spells hit at the most awkward of times—but she managed.
“I’m fine,” Cara assured. “I’ll even call you when I get home tonight after work, all right?”
“If you’re sure …”
“Perfectly sure, Zia.”
Cara’s lies and false smiles seemed to do the trick. Her aunt left with a demand that she had better call that night, and show up for dinner on the weekend. She barely heard her aunt’s footsteps fade away before she made it to the garbage can in the corner to throw up.
Her hands shook as she tried to steady herself for the second wave of sickness that almost always followed the first round.
The biggest question of her life had been answered that morning when she pissed on a plastic stick, and a small window blinked with a single word over and over again. At seven days late, and a multitude of other symptoms, Cara knew the answer. She still took the test, half praying it would come out one way, and yet feeling a mess of relief, joy, and absolute chilling fear when she finally knew for sure.
Pregnant.
The pregnancy test was still in her purse. It was probably still blinking that goddamn word. Cara was too scared to check. She wasn’t ready for it to be real.
Not yet.
“Miss Rossi.”
Cara stiffened at the sound of Chris’s greeting behind her. She turned the lock in her apartment door to close it up, and turned to face the man. He smiled at her. “You could have knocked on the door.”
“I just arrived.”
“Mmm.”
Chris nodded at her messenger bag. “Going somewhere?”
“School, actually. I already missed one class this morning, I’m trying not to miss a second.”
“Would it be so bad if you did miss another?”
Cara’s hand tightened on her bag. “Well, kind of.”
“You look tired,” he noted.
“Do I?”
“A bit.”
Cara hinted at nothing being wrong. Eight weeks after Gian’s arrest, and five weeks after finding out she was pregnant, Cara still hadn’t told anyone. Not a single soul knew her secret, and for now, she wanted to keep it that way.
She had been going through a rough patch with her early pregnancy. Exhaustion and morning sickness were taking its toll. She slept a hell of a lot more than she normally did, which said something, considering she wasn’t a morning person at all, and she still couldn’t smell meat cooking without throwing up.
It was not particularly fun.
At only eight weeks pregnant, Cara was wondering how she was supposed to make it another thirty-two weeks. The doctor had assured her that the tiredness would wane in the second trimester, as would the sickness, but she wasn’t sure that she believed the woman.
“Care to go on a drive today?” Chris asked. “There’s someone who would like to see you.”
“Isn’t today Gian’s sentencing?”
“It is.”
“Is it him who wants to see me?”
“He does.”
Cara frowned. “How, exactly? He’s always transferred directly from the jail to the courthouse, in cuffs and a cruiser with a guard.”
Chris shrugged. “Some strings may have been pulled today, that’s all I can say.”
“He hasn’t even called me.”
“His calls are monitored and he calls no one. Messages are passed back and forth during visits, and that’s how shit gets done.”
“Oh.”
“Jail isn’t a vacation, believe me.”
Cara rolled her eyes. “I never said that. A call would be nice, though.”
“You probably won’t get one. Maybe a visit, once the media fades away a bit, but not a call. He wants nothing on record other than a name and date. So, a drive?”
Cara handed over her bag when Chris offered to take it. “Fine, a drive.”
Cara was certain that the midtown alleyway Chris parked in was not anywhere close to the courthouse where Gian would have been sentenced earlier.
“What are we doing?” Cara asked.
Chris slid on a pair of sunglasses, turned the radio on low, and rested his arms behind his head. “Right now, we’re waiting.”
Given the man’s vagueness, Cara had the distinct feeling that she wouldn’t get any of her questions answered, so she didn’t ask more. She wasn’t sure how much time passed—ten minutes or maybe twenty. Then, Chris perked up, his gaze shooting to the rearview mirror. Cara glanced over her shoulder.
A police cruiser parked behind them in the alley.
Chris said nothing, simply exited the car after grabbing a large envelope from the passenger seat. Cara watched from the back window as Chris passed the envelope to the first police officer who left the cruiser. A second officer, younger than the first, headed to the back of the car to unlock and open the door.
Cara’s thoughts of the odd scene, and the obvious bribery happening, drifted away when Gian stepped out of the police cruiser. His hands were cuffed in front of him, but the younger officer quickly undid the cuffs when Gian offered his wrists out. The suit Gian wore belied the fact he had already spent eight weeks in a small jail cell, as it looked perfectly pressed and fit him handsomely.
A few words were said, the officers turned to talk between themselves, and Gian headed for Chris’s car. Cara didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until he slipped into the backseat with her.
At first, he said nothing.
His hands—God, she missed his hands—drifted over her cheeks with the softest touch, and then he was pulling her close. For a moment, a blissful few seconds, all of Cara’s stress and fear and worries drifted away. His dark eyes lingered over her features, his thumbs stroked her skin, and Cara remembered how to smile again.
“I missed your face,” Gian murmured.
Cara let out a low laugh. “That’s all you have to say?”
“No, not all. I’m sorry. I love you. There’s a few more, but those stand out the most.”
Before she could think better of it, Cara closed the distance between them. The kiss started out innocent and sweet enough, but took no time at all to burn deep with something far more sinful and desperate. She loved the way his fingers tangled into her hair as his tongue warred against hers. She nearly forgot about the people outside of the car, but she still didn’t care.
Not when her heart was suddenly thrumming a familiar tune.
Gian, Gian, Gian.
That’s what the song sounded like.
That, and love, love, love.
Cara knew it was bad and wrong. She had no business being involved with this man after everything, never mind hoping for a future with him that could never be anything. Yet she did.
She hoped and wished, and she thought the risk of crashing and burning might be okay, if she could just love him while it happened. Maybe.
“I heard you pulled some strings,” Cara said when Gian kissed a soft path over her cheekbone. “Aren’t they worried you might run off?”
Gian chuckled, and kissed her mouth again. “Not in the slightest.”
“How much did you bribe them?”
“A lot.”
Cara let Gian pull her closer, and soaked in the wonderful sensations of his fingers sifting through her curls. It was the intimate, comforting action that he usually only did in private with her, but it was her very favorite thing.
“I don’t have too long,” Gian said. “A few minutes, that’s all.”
Cara nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll get Chris to bring you in for a visit sometime over the next few months, if possible. I need the news programs and the fucking media to just … lay off for a bit. I don’t want you mixed up in any of this nonsense, Cara, not if I can help it.”
Cara’s heart stopped for a split second.
“A few months?”
Gian let out a hard breath. “Seven months, five with time already served. It’ll be done and over with before we know it, no worries.”
That was easy for him to say.
That was easy for him to think.
“You’ve gone stiff on me,” Gian said. “Why?”
Cara tried to let the words form, she tried to explain her reaction away, but nothing came out. She was still hearing five months in the back of her mind.
“Cara,” Gian said gently.
She looked up at him, and the words were right there on the tip of her tongue. Say it, and tell him, she thought. He needed to know about the pregnancy, especially now.
A light knock on the window interrupted her from saying anything at all. Chris stood just outside the door, and then gestured back toward the police cruiser. Gian sighed, but nodded once in response.
“I’m sorry, mon ange.”
Cara let him disengage from her, though it cut her up. “Wait.”
Gian already had the door open, and one foot out of the car. “What, Cara?”
She grabbed her bag, and dug through it, searching for a small paper she had shoved in there. Her doctor had made an appointment for her to have an early ultrasound when she had complained about cramping. As it turned out, nothing was wrong, and it was perfectly normal for her muscles to cramp a bit as her uterus grew a baby. She got a little picture of a peanut-shaped blob to keep.
Cara found the sonogram picture, and shoved it into Gian’s hand. The due date of the baby, how far along Cara was, and other information was listed at the top.
Gian’s gaze drifted between the grainy, black and white image in his hand, to Cara, and then back to the picture again. “Is this … uh, what I think it is?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, “that’s exactly what you think it is.”
He didn’t question her on a thing, only leaned back into the car, and kissed her hard on the mouth.
“I’m a little scared,” Cara told him.
Gian cupped her cheek with a firm hold, but a soft touch. “Yeah, I get that now, bella.”
“Five months is like almost the whole time.”
“But not all, okay? Not all, sweet girl.”
“Boss, the cops need to get on the move, so…”
Gian held his hand out, shutting Chris up instantly. Never once did his gaze move from Cara as he did so. “If there’s anything you want or need, Chris will get it for you, or Dom. Someone. Do you understand?”
Cara nodded. “I’m sorry, it was busy with school starting and everything. I missed a couple of my pills and—”
He kissed her again, quieting her. The shiver that worked its way through her spine was wonderfully familiar.
“I don’t care, Cara.”
“Boss—”
“Fuck off,” Gian barked over his shoulder.
Chris stepped back with hands up. “My apologies.”
Gian’s gaze was back on Cara in a heartbeat. “Five months is nothing. We already did three months, right?”
“We didn’t even fix the problems or talk about all of that, either. We fucked and here we are! Not the same thing, Gian. It’s like a big bomb ticking down that’s going to blow the hell up one day.”
“Close enough, Cara. And who cares if it blows up, as long as it’s spectacular? We’re pretty fucking spectacular, love. Je t'aime, ti amo, I love you. Always.”
That, she did believe.
He loved her crazy, but she didn’t entirely know why.
He loved her stupid, and she liked it too much.
It was all kinds of bad.
They were all kinds of wrong.
Maybe that’s just how they were supposed to be.
“You do need to give me a choice in this—in us.”
Gian laughed in that sexy way of his. “I did give you a choice. You chose to get in my car. You came with me. You’re mine, and you know it.”
Jesus.
Why was he so damn right?
“Always, Cara,” he repeated, kissing her quickly again.
“Always,” Cara echoed.