“You look beautiful today, as usual.” I opened the door and waited for Jillian to settle into the front seat of my car. Then I leaned in and stole another long, sensual kiss from her succulent lips.

Her hooded eyes told me everything she felt. With the right word, she’d be my rag doll to bend and twist however I wanted all night long. At the moment, anyway. She’d been hot and cold. Willing and distant. Sure and unsure. I knew all too well she could change her mind again at any second. She hadn’t made any commitments to me since she’d returned.

So I decided to adopt a new tactic with my Southern belle.

She had to come to me—on her own, telling me and showing me what she wanted from me. One word from her was all I needed to rock her world and relieve all her pent-up sexual frustration. One word, and she’d move in to my apartment to be with me every day and every night. One word, and she’d know firsthand what it meant to be treated like my queen.

Until she said that word, I’d keep applying the subtle pressure. I’d remind her what she was missing out on, while still spending as much time with her as she’d allow. But my approach would be more subdued. My offers would be fewer and farther between. I’d stay my same, charming self, but after our last discussion, I sensed she was leaning more toward her independence. The warning in my heart told me to prepare to be sorely disappointed.

“Thank you.” She sounded slightly out of breath, just enough to be sexy and seductive. It was going to be a long fucking afternoon if she didn’t step up and admit her feelings real damn soon.

With a wink and a slight smirk, I closed her door and moved to the driver’s side. Since we were going to see the doctor about our baby, I told Benny to stay at the office and cover for me. I wanted to be alone with Jillian, so she would see us as a couple, soon to be a family. Telling her wouldn’t work—I had to show her.

She had to see it for herself and want it without my coercion.

That was probably the hardest fucking thing for me to do. Persuasive tactics were my specialty, whether that was by force, by threats, or by smooth negotiation. But that wasn’t the type of life I wanted with her or for her. She was bold and beautiful and bright—and I wouldn’t change a single thing about her.

“How’s life with my sister?” I asked as I slid behind the wheel.

“It’s been very entertaining and enlightening. I love her. She’s like the sister I’ve always wanted but never had.”

“There were plenty of times while we were growing up my brothers and I would’ve gladly given her to you. But I suppose I’m glad we kept her instead.”

She laughed, catching my jest. “I’ve seen a lot of Marchetti in her, and she told me a few stories from when you two were kids. I can imagine she was a handful.”

“Was? She still is. What are you talking about?” I reached over and took her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. She didn’t pull away, to my shock and amazement. I admit I held on to a little hope for us to pull through this none the worse for wear.

“Okay, you’ve got me there. She’s very smart and a whiz on the computers. I wish I knew half of what she’s forgotten about them.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along so well. She feels the same about you, in case you were wondering.”

“Thanks for telling me. It’s nice to hear my admiration is returned.”

I’d never been known for my ability to make small talk. With the recent events, I was in no mood to even try.

“Did you happen to catch the news today? There was an interesting update that flashed up on my phone. I had to open the article on my laptop and read it a second time on the big screen.” I cut my eyes over to her, watching her reaction for any deception.

“Oh?”

My sweet, mostly innocent Jillian was still in there. At least my sneaky sister hadn’t changed that yet.

“Yeah. You didn’t see it?”

“Um. Well. I’m not sure which news article you saw. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“It was all about Lorenzo, Blaine Financial, and how he was running an underhanded scheme to cheat his family and partners out of a shitload of money. You didn’t see that?”

“Oh, that one. Yes, I heard about it today. Um, Carrie read part of the article to me, but I didn’t read it myself. I think she must’ve had the same alert you did. I remember hearing her phone chime, and I thought it was text message at first. But it wasn’t a text. It was just the app on her phone telling her there was a breaking news story.”

Guilty. She was so, so fucking guilty. I had to physically stop myself from laughing out loud.

Fuck, I loved her so much. On top of everything that made Jillian special, she was such a good-hearted person she couldn’t even pull off a poker face over something so simple.

“It was a breaking story, all right. It’ll break Lorenzo for sure. I doubt he lives to see the morning.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he disobeyed a direct order from the boss of his family. Even though that’s his dad, Lorenzo isn’t above correction. He’s caused Geno trouble before, and Geno gave him one last warning. That’s part of why the Sanfratello family is considered weaker than ours. Geno doesn’t have enough of a backbone to do what needs to be done when it comes to his kids. This latest fuck-up will be Lorenzo’s last. Mark my words.”

“Geno would put out an order to kill his own son?”

“He won’t have a choice. The consigliere will advise him to do it, and their underboss will carry it out. It’ll probably break Geno, too. Their whole family is likely to fold.”

“Where do you think he’s hiding?”

“I don’t have a clue where he is now. He ran after we took out his house and his old girlfriend’s house, just in case he tried to run to her place for cover. His family has been keeping him off the grid. That’ll change now with his fugly mug on the cover of every newspaper and on every news station. Geno will do damage control with the rest of the family and their allies, so that means Lorenzo will be on his own for a while.”

Jillian remained silent a little too long after her sudden initial interest in Lorenzo and where he could be, silently contemplating the information I’d given her. Her brows were drawn down, and her thumbnail was securely held between her teeth. One of two things had to be going on in that beautiful head of hers. Either she was afraid he was a loose cannon, gunning for her from every direction…or, she hoped he was a loose cannon and would show his face soon. Neither scenario sat well with me.

She had every reason and right to want revenge against him after what he took from her. But then again, she had every right and reason to exact her own choice of revenge against me, too. Since Jillian hadn’t been back to my parents’ house with me, Mama still hadn’t let me eat at the table with the rest of the family. I remained in exile, banished to the kitchen counter, forced to stand during my meals. Looking at Jillian sitting beside me, having her near me again, I realized I’d stand in the fucking corner for the rest of my life if she just forgave me.

“Do you think he’ll come after me again to try to regain good standing with his family?”

I felt the weight of her stare on me, analyzing my reaction and waiting to assess my reply. To what end was my question, one I’d have to carefully gauge without outright asking her. My suspicions were high, but that was nothing new for me. I’d never fully trusted anyone outside of my immediate family—and a couple of them had even given me reason to doubt their word at one time or another. The thing was, I hated being suspicious of Jillian. Though it ran counter to my natural instincts, I found myself wanting to trust her, wanting to push the doubts aside and kick caution to the sideline.

“It’s very possible, Jillian. I won’t lie to you about it. I’d rather you watch over your shoulder for a while than have a false sense of security. You know as long as I’m still breathing, I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

“You’re not always around, Damon. You may not have a say-so in the matter.”

“All the more reason why you should be living with me instead of my sister.”

“But I’m not living with you. I’m living with Carrie, at least for the time being. Until this clusterfuck with Lorenzo is over and I can find my own place.”

That sucker punch to the gut fucking hurt.

With a quick glance at her face, I realized she wasn’t saying it to hurt me. She wasn’t smirking. There was no sense of satisfaction in her expression after driving that metaphorical dagger deep into my heart. She simply made a statement about her future, and I didn’t appear to be in her vision of it. When she said she was confused and couldn’t make up her mind, she meant it. It seemed she’d made a decision and was sticking to it.

The life I’d envisioned for us was no longer in question. It was over and done.

“Well, once Lorenzo is out of the picture, you won’t need around-the-clock protection. You may not need protection at all by then. Let’s just get through one day at a time without incident.”

My monotone reply couldn’t be helped. At one time in our relationship, I’d warned her I’d never let her go, but that turned out to be not so true. As much as I wanted to rail against it, to shake some sense into her, I finally had to face the reality that she didn’t want to be with me. That my family may be irreparably damaged. That there would never be more than what we were at that moment.

Parents of an unborn baby who weren’t destined to be together.

I loved her enough to want her to be happy, regardless of what that meant for me. That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it. And I wasn’t. I just fucking wasn’t.

“What? No clever warning of how I belong to you and I’ll realize that all too soon?” The teasing tone of her voice conveyed the coy smile that brightened her face, but I kept my eyes on the road.

“No, Jillian. Not today.”

The sobering thought of another man eventually taking up residence with the woman I loved and the child growing inside her hit me at full force. The last thing I felt like doing was smiling or laughing. The worst fucking part was I only had myself to blame for it.

“Damon.” She said my name on a soft whisper, a hint of an apology lingering in the air.

But I wasn’t ready to hear those words from her. I couldn’t sit there and listen to her tell me she tried to move past it, how she wanted to love me again but just couldn’t bring herself to actually do it. Even though I could see it in her actions, hear it in her voice, and feel it in the air, hearing the actual words would be my undoing.

“Here we are. Let me check our surroundings first. I’ll get the door for you when it’s safe to get out of the car.”

Never had I faced anything like what I felt in that moment. I could’ve been in a foreign country, with no friends and no understanding of the native language, for as much as I knew about the next steps I should take. The only me I knew would’ve coerced her in some way until she gave in—bribes, threats, kidnapping—whatever it took. The new me, the man I didn’t even recognize—still wanted her to choose to be with me, to want to be mine. But he was preparing to let her go for good…to admit, after exhausting all means, he was defeated and there was nothing left to fight for, no matter how much it fucking killed him.

For the sake of Jillian’s happiness, I finally understood I had to let her go, regardless of how much I loved her. Holding on to her, trying to keep hope alive, and trying to elbow my way back into her heart hadn’t done either of us any favors up to that point. My choices pushed us to the breaking point, and I’d been a selfish asshole long enough.

Strange how a few minutes and a short conversation could change everything I thought I knew, who I thought I was.

The idea of getting advice from my old man crossed my mind, but as far as I knew, he and Mama never had a single doubt they’d be together forever. Because of that, I wasn’t convinced taking advice from him on the matter was the best course of action. Maybe inaction was the only course I had left. Don’t do anything. Don’t try anything. Don’t force anything.

Just let it be whatever it was.

When everything was said and done with Lorenzo, I’d check out of Jillian’s life. I’d be the best father any kid ever had, but I’d do it without her by my side.

Every ounce of me revolted against that decision. Every fiber of my being said to man up and be a fucking Marchetti. Take control. Don’t back down. See it through until the bitter end, just like I’d done my whole damn life. If some fucker tried to move in on her, he’d wish he’d never been born.

But that would only hurt her more. And if I’d vowed to never let anyone hurt her, that promise had to include me.

After a thorough scan of the cars and people in our immediate area, I opened the car door to help her out. The rueful gleam in her eye when she stood and faced me only strengthened my resolve. I wouldn’t accept pity from any-fucking-body. Not even her.

“Let’s get you inside while I’m reasonably sure the coast is clear. We don’t want to push our luck more than we absolutely have to right now.”

With my hand on her lower back, I steered her away from the parking lot, toward the front door of the two-story doctor’s office building. She cast several sidelong glances at me as we walked the short distance down the sidewalk, but my refusal to acknowledge them coupled with my hypervigilant surveillance around us prevented her from speaking. Once inside the building, I relaxed somewhat and removed my hand from her back, knowing Lorenzo would never attack inside the doctor’s office that many wives of made men used. He wouldn’t make it ten feet outside the door before every faction in the Tri-State area had mowed him down.

We sat quietly while she filled out the new patient paperwork, then only made small talk now and then when something interesting flashed on the television. The invisible wall between us went up one brick at a time, but we both felt it.

“Jillian Hart,” the nurse called from the doorway.

Jillian stood, but I remained planted in my seat. She looked down at me, confusion, shock, and maybe a small wave of pain crossing her face. “Are you not coming back with me?”

“If you want me to come back with you, I will. If not, I’ll stay here and give you some privacy.”

“Damon, I’d like for you to be there with me. It’s important to me.”

“In that case, I’ll be right beside you.”

Inside the exam room, I moved from poster to poster to study the stages of fetal development while Jillian changed into the hospital gown. Memorizing every detail from conception to birth, I pictured how big our baby was at nearly four months. Only six inches long…less than the length from the tip of my middle finger to my wrist. By the time I’d started to make my second round, anything to delay the inevitable conversation, the doctor rushed through the door with her chart in hand.

“Hello. How are Mom and Dad doing today?” He was an older man, closer to my father’s age, balding with white hair wrapping around the lower part of his head. He extended his hand to shake mine first. “Daryl Bowers. Good to meet you.”

“We’re fine,” Jillian answered with a smile.

He took her hand in both of his and gave her a warm welcome. “According to your records from your doctor down in Louisiana, you’re around four months now. Does that sound right?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Perfect time to see if we can hear the baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler. Just lie back there, and let’s see if the baby wants to cooperate with us today.”

With a blob of gel on her exposed belly, he began to move the wand across her skin, seemingly ignoring all the sounds from the speaker that I thought were important. Then he stopped and homed in on a specific area when he apparently recognized what he’d been searching for.

“Hear that?” he asked, smiling at Jillian. All I heard was something that sounded like horses galloping…but underwater. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

He turned up the volume, the fast beat of my baby’s heart filled the room, and the haze in my brain cleared. The unmistakable sound of a rapid heartbeat permeated my soul. Fast. Strong. Beautiful. When it began to fade, he moved the wand to find the right spot again. Then his brows drew downward, and he cocked his head to the side, listening intently.

He turned to his nurse. “Chelle, I’d like to get her to the ultrasound room. Can you go make sure Pat is ready for us?”

Dr. Bowers slipped the Doppler into his coat pocket then extended his hand to Jillian, helping her sit up on the exam table. “Let’s go in the ultrasound room and let Pat, our sonogram technician, take a look at the baby.”

“Is something wrong? What’s going on with our baby?” I stepped closer to Jillian and took her hand in mine as she stood.

“Come with me. I’ll be able to explain everything in just a minute.”

We followed him to a smaller room. An exam table sat at the far end, against the wall. Beside it was the ultrasound machine and a large monitor where the sonogram technician waited for us. After Jillian was comfortable on the table and more gel had been spread across her stomach, Pat moved the larger wand into place low on Jillian’s abdomen.

Then she looked up at the doctor… and they smiled at each other.

“Well, Jillian, congratulations. You’re having twins.”