Pia sat up when her room door opened, startled from the sudden movement and sound. She squinted in the new light when Lorenzo flipped the light switch on. Then she saw Ryder come into the room.

 

He looked awful. Dried blood in multiple places on his face, swollen and bruised. They’d beat him good. Her immediate shock at seeing him enter the room was replaced with anger at her father and his men for doing this to him.

 

But why was he here now? What could this possibly mean? Were they bringing him to beat him more, in front of her? What if they were bringing him here to kill him in front of her? No. Her father wouldn’t stoop that low, would he?

 

Lorenzo closed the door and left him in there. Alone with her. Something about this wasn’t right.

 

“Ryder?” she asked, her voice small. She tugged at the handcuffs still binding her wrists to the bed.

 

He didn’t look at her and wouldn’t come near her.

 

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why did they bring you here and leave you here like this?”

 

He finally looked at her. “They brought me in here because I asked them to.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense. They’re letting us be together?”

 

He shook his head and looked away from her. “No. They’re not. I asked them to bring me here to talk to you so I could tell you that we have to end this.”

 

“End this?” Her voice shot up several octaves and she suddenly felt hysterical. After all that happened, after all they’d been through together, was he seriously saying this?

 

“I’m sorry. But it’s over between us.”

 

“No, no.” She shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Why are you saying this? Did they make you say this?”

 

“No.”

 

But he still wouldn’t look at her. That had to mean something, right? Of course they were making him do this. Just hours ago, he’d held her tight and said they’d never be apart. They were making plans to be together forever, to raise their baby and have a family. He wouldn’t just turn his back on her and abandon her and their child. He wouldn’t, and she couldn’t believe it of him.

 

“I don’t believe you,” she said quietly. “If they told you to say that, fine. I know how you really feel. That’s all I need to know.”

 

“No, you don’t.” His voice was suddenly harsh and his glare harsher. “I know all the pretty things I said to you to get in your pants. Don’t you think I’m a master at this game? I know how to charm. And I can do it whether I have real feelings or not. I’m sorry, Pia, I just don’t have real feelings for you. I never did.”

 

“Stop it.” Her tears were breaking into sobs. “They made you break up with me, fine. You don’t have to convince them you hate me, too. You’re just being cruel.”

 

“Apparently that’s what it takes to get through to you. I know it’s easier to go on believing that they’re making me say all of this. Who in the world would ever break up with Pia Carelli, right? How dare anyone mistreat daddy’s little princess? Well, I guess I proved you wrong. You can go back to all your little rich friends now and tell them how the bad boy broke your heart. How you were a victim, you were played. You can cry to them about how horrible I am. How horrible all men are.”

 

Pia shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “It’s not about that. We were going to run away together. Did you just forget all that? Did you forget everything?”

 

She looked down pointedly at her belly to indicate the baby. She wouldn’t say it or even hint at it. If her father didn’t know that, then he couldn’t know. And Ryder seemed to have the same assumption. He looked at her belly for a long moment, then met her eyes.

 

“It’s not a matter of forgetting. It’s a matter of not caring. You have your problems to deal with”—he looked again at her stomach—“and I have mine.”

 

“My problems?” Her lower lip quivered in disbelief. Was he really saying their baby was now her problem? That he didn’t care about it at all? If they didn’t know about the baby, they couldn’t be telling him to say that, though. So, did that mean he meant it? What if he meant all of it?

 

“Look, Pia, I am not going to screw myself over and ruin my life for some spoiled rich girl brat. I’m just not. What we had was fun, but that’s it. I told you I wanted to run away with you, but really, I just wanted the chance to fuck you again. And when we didn’t have to be so careful. I wanted to take you away, have my fill of you and then, when I was through, I would have left you.”

 

She didn’t say anything. She stared at him. At his cold eyes, his heartless stare. She had to close her eyes. The pain was too much. “Don’t do this.”

 

“It was fun while it lasted,” he said. “But now it’s done.”

 

“Come closer,” she whispered.

 

He didn’t budge.

 

“If it’s really over,” she said, her voice so low no one would be able to hear. “Then kiss me goodbye.”

 

He looked at her for a long while. She thought for a moment there was a glimmer of something there. Longing? Or could it just be lust? Everything he said in the last few minutes seemed at complete odds with everything he’d ever said to her when they were together.

 

Sure, she believed the bad boy player persona. And no doubt he’d played plenty of women just like he was claiming to do now. But he was different with her. He was as different with her as she was with him. They were meant for each other. Were meant to be the one person in each other’s life who was the one to break through. To make the difference. To be the difference. To prove that life didn’t have to be how it was or how it was expected to be.

 

This couldn’t be the end. She loved him. She hadn’t realized it until recently, and she’d never told him. Well, he’d never told her either, but she felt loved. She thought he was in love with her, or falling in love with her. And she was in love with him. The father of her child. She was already in love with her child, and when she thought of the innocent little baby, anger flared in her to think he or she would be abandoned by its father. She wouldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t let her child grow up with just one parent.

 

She would fight for him. When this was all over, she’d find him and she’d win him over. She’d get him back. She’d convince him that they should be together. That for the sake of their child, they had to be together.

 

But for right now, she needed him to kiss her. She would know everything in his kiss. He wouldn’t be able to hide his true feelings from her.

 

When he finally looked away, he turned from her and went to the door.

 

“Ryder!”

 

He didn’t glance back as he left the room.

 

She collapsed onto the bed in sobs. No. She’d needed to kiss him to know for sure. How would she know now if he meant it or not? He might have some amazing plan to free her and get them out of there together. Or he might really be breaking up with her and she might really be on her own with this baby.

 

How could she raise a baby on her own? And it would have to be completely on her own, without the help of her father or family, because her father would disown her. And the rest of her family would agree. You didn’t argue with the boss. She would have her friends. But none of them had babies. They wouldn’t understand what she was going through.

 

If she had to do that, fine. She’d figure out a way. She still had her shop. Her father couldn’t take that from her. It was all hers, and she made good money from it. If it came down to it and he really did cut her off, then she’d lose a lot. Her car, her phone, her credit cards. She would have to make some severe life changes, but what else could she do? At least she had a business that made money and she was her own boss. Lots of single moms didn’t have that. And, hard as it would be, there were lots of women out there who were single moms. They did it. She’d figure out a way, too.

 

She didn’t doubt she could do it. The problem was she didn’t want to. Every time she thought of not having Ryder by her side to be there, raising this baby, a pain went through her chest. She wanted him. And not just for the baby, but for everything. She wanted him just to do life with.

 

She refused to believe that she would be raising this baby alone. Her mind kept bringing back the way he’d held her, all the things he’d said. The look in his eyes when he found out he was going to be a father. She’d never forget that look, or how happy he’d been after it sunk in. He wanted this, too. No matter what he said now.

 

She had no idea what had happened to him in the time since her father’s men broke into their hotel room and just a few minutes ago, but it couldn’t be good. They might have said anything to him, threatened him, threatened her. They might have beat him more. Sure, he’d say whatever he had to in order to convince them.

 

But then, when she pictured the look in his eyes, her trust in him wavered. The look in his eyes had been so harsh. And the things he said? He didn’t have to go as far as he did. He’d been down right cruel. And she couldn’t deny that what he said about being a player was true. She knew that much about him.

 

What if she was wrong about him? She’d asked him to kiss her goodbye and he hadn’t even been able to do that.

 

She sat up suddenly, the tears coming to an abrupt halt. Wait a second. She’d asked him to kiss her goodbye and he hadn’t. He hadn’t said goodbye when he left the room either. That had to be a sign, right? He wouldn’t kiss her goodbye because it wasn’t goodbye.

 

She lay back on her bed, her eyes still sore and puffy from all her crying. But now her heart felt more settled. Until she saw him again and all this was over, she was going to believe the best. That he had said what he’d said because they made him. That it wasn’t over. That he hadn’t kissed her goodbye because it wasn’t goodbye. It wasn’t over.