“What? What did you just say?”

There was no way I heard him correctly.

Pat chuckled, no doubt that wasn’t the first time she’d heard disbelief and sheer panic at the same time. “There are two distinct fetuses. Two distinct hearts. Two of everything. Congratulations!”

In my stunned state, I couldn’t reply. I looked back and forth from Dr. Bowers to Pat several times, waiting for them to laugh and say they were only kidding. But they didn’t. Then I turned my gaze to the flat screen that had captured Damon’s attention and stared at the grainy black-and-white images for several seconds. I began to make out the shapes. Though they were small, there were definitely two separate bodies moving inside me.

Tears sprang to my eyes—tears of joy, elation, confusion, terror. Sheer and utter happiness. My only regret was that my mother wasn’t there to experience the miracle with me.

Damon moved closer to Pat, completely oblivious to anyone else in the small room, and lifted his hand to the screen. His fingers traced the clear outlines of both our babies with an expression of complete awe and wonder on his face. His lips moved, but I didn’t hear any audible words. He was talking to our babies, making his silent oath to them. He stood rooted to his spot for several seconds after he dropped his hand at his side. Then he nodded, his silent decree set in Marchetti stone.

When he turned to face me, the determined man I first met had returned in full force. Any doubts or second thoughts I’d sensed on the ride over were gone. The cool, steely exterior of the deadly hit man inside him was back. His eyes dropped from mine to my stomach, and I knew his primary focus had shifted from me to the twins I carried. The Marchetti bloodline lived inside me, and Damon would uphold the code of family honor that had driven him his entire life by protecting them at any cost.

“Do you have a history of twins in your family?” Damon stepped closer to me, his eyes sliding up my body until they locked on to mine.

“No, none. This is the first set of twins on my side.”

“There’s always a first for everything,” Dr. Bowers interjected. “Family history isn’t always a clear indicator.”

The trepidation in my eyes must have been painfully obvious. Damon ran his fingers along my jawline then gently held my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t be scared, doll. Our babies will be perfect, just like you.”

Dr. Bowers chatted with Pat for a few minutes as she printed out multiple sonogram pictures. I couldn’t stop staring at the monitor, watching the tiny, active babies inside me.

“When will I start to feel them moving?”

“You’ll begin to feel it anytime now. It’s usually around the sixteen-week mark. It’ll feel like little flutters low in your abdomen,” Dr. Bowers said. “Then before you know it, you’ll feel kicks and full somersaults.”

The doctor and technician finished printing pictures and left the room so I could get dressed in private. Chelle waited outside the door until we emerged and escorted us to Dr. Bowers’s office. We sat in shocked silence and waited for him to join us. Actually, I was stunned silent, but I could see the wheels in Damon’s mind turning at lightning speed. Whatever plan he was formulating had his full attention.

When Dr. Bowers joined us, he handed me a thick book on what I could expect from being pregnant with twins and an envelope with copies of the sonogram pictures. While I would’ve loved for my mother to be the first person other than Damon and me to see them, I couldn’t wait to show Mama Lina. Though I could barely focus on the doctor’s words, I wanted to share everything he said about my care going forward and ask Mama Lina to help Damon and me navigate through the rest of my pregnancy.

If I thought having one newborn was scary, the thought of having two at once was absolutely terrifying.

Somehow, I managed to fumble my way through the rest of the appointment, gathering all the information I could about twin pregnancies and how it would be different. When Damon opened the car door for me, I stopped shy of sliding into the seat and lifted my eyes to his.

He’d avoided that connection for most of the ride and nearly all of the visit. But as we stood in the parking lot, his gaze didn’t falter.

“What are you thinking, Damon? What’s going on up here?” I lightly tapped his temple, then rested my palm against his cheek. Disappointment filled me when he didn’t lean into my touch, not even slightly.

“I’m just trying to process everything you and the babies will need to be safe and comfortable. A nice gated house instead of an apartment in the city so we can install extra security measures. Hopefully, you’ll find something you like close to my parents and my sister, so they can help out at a moment’s notice until I can get there. Finding the right full-time nanny who can be ready to start as soon as they’re born so you can get plenty of rest.”

“Where will you be?”

“Never too far away.”

With that, he motioned for me to get into the car. I obeyed robotically, visions of the finest material things money could buy surrounding me, but no husband coming home to our children and me every night. No father in-house to help with midnight feedings and two a.m. diaper changes. No Damon in the bed beside me to hold me and help keep me safe through whatever storms came our way.

Suddenly, that house he suggested felt somewhat empty and alone without him there to share it with me. Joint custody meant one of us would miss a lot of important milestones in the babies’ lives, even something as simple as learning to roll over or sit up alone. In the short time it took him to walk around the car and slide behind the wheel, I’d already felt the loss of so many wonderful firsts we should experience together.

Weighed against the grudge I tried to hold on to, my personal vendetta to make him feel the pain I’d felt over the past four months began to feel petty and small. When I considered how my choices could impact our children their entire lives, guilt began to consume me.

My father was a huge part of my childhood. As a young child, I remembered looking forward to the time I spent with him every day. After he died, rushing to meet my father as he arrived home from work every day were some of the most bittersweet memories I had.

If Damon and I continued on our current path, our children would never experience the anticipation of waiting for their dad to return home at the end of the day. They’d miss out on so many nights of him rocking them to sleep, safe and secure in his strong arms. There would be times when they would want him instead of me—learning to ride a bike, dealing with bullies at school, advice on dating. My whole life seemed to flash before my eyes, and the huge, gaping hole in it was the void only Damon could fill.

How important was my anger if I had no one to love and no one to love me?

The driver’s door opened, and the masculine scents of bergamot, cinnamon, and leather filled the car. His signature cologne set my senses ablaze and left my body burning with need for his touch. While he started the car and maneuvered it into traffic, I studied his strong profile. His thick black hair, those chocolate brown eyes, the sexy eternal five-o’clock shadow faded beard. Damon was still the sexiest man I’d ever seen. He was dangerous but affectionate. He was calculating yet generous. He was cruel and somehow sweet.

The warning in my head wasn’t loud enough to overcome the yearning in my heart. Giving him another chance was dangerous to my heart and mind. Mentally and physically, he could crush me into oblivion if he betrayed me again. But something told me he wouldn’t. His family code. The way the Marchetti clan had adopted me as one of their own. Even the space and time he gave me after I returned to New York with him told me he wanted what was best for me, regardless of what it did to him.

But being kept in the dark about the plans and information he and his father discussed openly was a deal-breaker for me. If they trusted me to be part of the family, then I wanted to be a full-fledged member. Not a stepchild they merely tolerated and placated.

To be truly considered one of them, I’d have to prove my mettle. And I only knew of one way to do that.

If Carrie and I could pull off our cockamamie plan and somehow incapacitate Lorenzo until Damon met us, we would both be viewed in a different light. We’d be trusted and respected—at least more so than our current situation. And maybe, just maybe, I could move past the helplessness I felt over being unable to save my mother when she needed me. Maybe it would renew my sense of empowerment and independence.

Or maybe I was grasping at straws and it would all go horribly wrong.

I was never good at guessing odds, though I figured they were much less than fifty-fifty. Probably more like seventy-thirty…and not in my favor. The only ace in the hole I had was Carrie—her time in the family, her training, and her underground activities she’d managed to successfully accomplish without any help at all.

After a couple of glances in my direction, Damon finally turned and stared at me straight on, lifting one brow in question with an amused expression on his handsome face. “Something I can do for you, doll?”

I answered him with a candid smile. One that reached my eyes and covered my face from ear to ear. “That’s a loaded question to ask a woman who just found out you impregnated her with twins, Damon.”

A salacious grin spread slowly across his face. His bedroom eyes twinkled with mischief, and his voice dropped to a low timbre when he spoke. “I’m more than willing to try to do it again. And again. And again. However many times it takes to hit the jackpot a second time, doll.”

Ah, my cocky, sexy hit man was back.

“That would be hard to accomplish since I’m already pregnant right now.”

He shrugged one shoulder, and one side of his lips lifted slightly. “Practice makes perfect.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do if I suddenly agreed to your requests for sexual favors.”

He laughed out loud. “See, doll, that’s where you couldn’t be more wrong. I’d know exactly what to do, and I think we both know it.”

I did know that about him—all too well.

When we arrived back at Carrie’s house, I was more than ready to start pushing the timing of our plan. My life and heart had been in limbo long enough. And Lorenzo had gotten away with his bullshit long enough. He needed to pay for what he did, and I needed to be the one to do it, so I could close that horrible chapter and move on. Carrie had been working behind the scenes for hours on end, developing the news articles and setting up the smoke and mirrors.

Damon opened my door then took my hand to help me stand. He pulled me up, my chest sliding against his, and I thought the heat from the friction would set my clothes on fire. Or, maybe I hoped it would, so they’d burn off me and I wouldn’t have an excuse to turn him down again.

“When this is over with Lorenzo, I’ll schedule some time with a Realtor who knows what to look for in a piece of property for our family. She can take you house-hunting in the safest areas. When you find one you can’t live without, all you have to do is tell her. I’ll take care of the rest. You won’t have to worry about a thing except what color you want to paint the walls. Mama would love to take you shopping for furniture—she lives for that shit.”

“Is that what you think is best?” My bottom lip started to quiver, so I pulled it between my teeth, trying to control it along with my emotions.

“I do. You’re right. You’ll want to stretch out in your own place well before the babies are born. You’ll want to decorate the nurseries and have everything just perfect before they come home. Baby showers—my whole family will fill the house with gifts. I know you don’t want to store all that at Carrie’s.”

He wasn’t kidding, but he wasn’t being mean either.

He was simply being practical, matter-of-fact.

Just like that, what I thought I wanted changed again. I’d wanted to hurt him, to push him away, to make him leave me alone. I’d done my best to guard my heart and keep him out of it. Though he had been in my thoughts every single day since we parted, I’d fought against what that really meant.

And now…

He was giving me what I thought I wanted—a life without his interference. He was leaving me alone while still providing for his children. I’d accomplished pushing him away and hurting him time after time with my trivial jabs, while he’d tried several times to make amends. He’d broken the Boss’s rules and chanced being exiled from his family—for me. That could’ve meant death for him.

He walked me to the door to make sure I got safely inside. I had to admit, I did love the extra care and attention Damon gave me. With the exception of one awful night, he’d always made me feel safe and protected. I suddenly wanted nothing more than for him to stay, but I had to have distraction-free time with Carrie.

“Do you want to take a few of these sonogram pictures with you to show your mother?”

“I’d love to show my mother, but I want you with me when I do. Why don’t you come to family dinner with Carrie this Saturday? We’ll show her together then.”

“Okay, I’ll be there Saturday, then. Thank you again for driving me today.”

“Always my pleasure, doll.”

I stood just inside the foyer and watched him drive away with my heart heavy, and uncertainty settled in my gut again. Had I lost him? Was it too late to carry out my plan for vengeance? Would it make any difference if I killed Lorenzo or not? I turned away from the window and went to join Carrie in her secret command center.

“Carrie, I’m ready. Let’s draw him out and get this over with.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” She pressed a key on her laptop. A series of command prompts ran through several lines of code sequences, then a satisfied smirk covered her face. “And, article number two has just been delivered. By morning, Lorenzo Sanfratello will be wanted by every member of his family, along with anyone else who has ever had a kind word for his family.”

“What’s in this one?”

“A very elaborate story detailing how Lorenzo has agreed to work with the FBI in exchange for immunity and some very convincing pictures of him and an FBI agent meeting in secret. I added a few of their real embezzlement methods to make it as convincing as possible.”

“Then tomorrow, we set our trap to catch a rat.”