I head up the elevator to the apartment, holding a couple of wine bottles under one arm. I’m in a good mood. One of the mid-level, Salvadorian dealers has been quite chatty while under duress. I’m hunting that piece of shit Arturo to the ground, burning every place he could be hiding.

I think within this week I’ll have him in hand. That fact makes me smile.

It also makes me realize that I’ve been home very little this whole week. Which in turn make me homesick. Actually, it just makes me long for Fiore’s touch.

The apartment itself, I could do without. It’s just to please Fiore if I’m honest with myself.

And that is what I’m about to do… please Fiore, in a different way. I can imagine her breathy sighs of pleasure, as I nod to the guard at the front door.

Inside, I can’t find her anywhere at first glance. It’s only once I venture to put down the wine in the kitchen, that I spot her way out on the terrace, looking down at the street below. Frowning, I open the French doors.

She turns her face toward me, and I can tell that something is wrong. Her face is pink and puffy. It’s cold out here, and she exhales a puff of breath as she wipes at her face.

“Come in here,” I call to her. “It’s too cold for you to be hanging around out here.”

She shivers underneath her dark peacoat, obediently hustling inside. Once I shut the door after her, she goes to sit on the biggest couch in the living room without a word to me.

Eyebrows raised, I follow her. “What’s wrong?”

She sits on a pile of chenille throws, pulling them onto her lap. Her eyes are on her lap, unreadable. She just shrugs one shoulder, wiping at her face again.

“Is this about your run in with Dryas?” I ask, sitting down beside her.

Her eyes jump up to meet mine, surprised. “Elian told you?”

I nod. “He did. What did my brother say that upset you so much?”

Her eyes jerk down again, her mouth pulling into a tight pucker. “Did Elian happen to tell you about how Dryas kissed me?”

My mouth creases into a frown. “He did, yes.”

“Tell me again about how Dryas isn’t a threat? How he showed up when you weren’t around, offering money and passage if I would get out of town and not tell you where I was going.”

This shocks me. “What? Did he say why?”

She plucks at the blankets in her lap, her brow drawing down. “Because you care for me. I don’t factor into the future he has planned for you, I guess.”

I try to think of what that could possibly mean. “I find that… odd.”

“He said you called a meeting of the three brothers for later tonight. He said you were going to tell one of them to take over the city, and it is my fault.”

I don’t know what to say to that, exactly. I haven’t told Fiore of how I feel about her. Dryas is right about what I plan on announcing tonight, though.

I just can’t give New Orleans the attention it deserves, not with Fiore here. With her blonde hair and plump pink lips, she would prove too tempting a target, that’s for sure. I would just be counting down the hours until she disappeared, her dead body delivered to me sometime later.

“Dryas was right when he said I called a meeting,” I say carefully. “It’s not anybody’s fault, though.”

She tilts her head to the side. “And the part about leaving New Orleans? Is that right?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah. He had to know that at the rate I was going, I want to be around for that long. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends for years. He had to have known that I wouldn’t last much longer. I can’t even say that I’m surprised that he guessed at what the meeting is about.”

Her face, normally so expressive, is closed and shuttered. I wish like anything that she would look up at me, but I don’t want to force her. Besides, there is plenty on my own mind and in my own eyes that I wouldn’t want her to see.

I stand, stalking to the kitchen and opening a wine bottle. I pour myself a glass, nearly chugging it. I pour a second, drinking half of it in one gulp.

It’s easier for me to blunt the edges with a little wine, than it is to sit with the truth for one goddamn minute. I don’t want her to see it, either.

I wouldn’t want her to see what a terrible man I am. How murderous I am. How I just take what I want and leave the rest to burn.

I wouldn’t want her to know about my past either. How before her, I dated strictly prostitutes, women that I could pay for their company and silence.

And above all else, I wouldn’t want her to know that I’ve completely fallen in love with her. I would do anything to prevent her from seeing me, really seeing to the depths of my soul like that.

The idea of being seen, being judged, being really truly being visible and naked to another human being like that… it terrifies me. Because, at the end of the day, I need her to look at me with some kind of respect, even if it’s learned the wrong way.

I know, without a doubt, that if she looks at me any other way I will fail to live up to her imaginings.

When I turn from the kitchen island, Fiore is there. Watching me with those baby blue eyes. Threatening me without saying a fucking word.

Does she even know what she’s doing to me right now? I would be that she doesn’t.

“Have a glass of wine,” I say, turning and grabbing a second glass.

She clears her throat, her voice weak. “No.”

Cocking a brow, I turn to her. “What do you mean, no?”

She folds her arms across her chest, the movement clearly defensive. “I said no to the wine. What’s the problem with that?”

I narrow my gaze.

“You usually don’t say no to me.” Pouring a little half glass, I slide it closer to her. “Indulge me on this.”

She looks at it but doesn’t take it. Squaring her jaw, she shakes her head. “I can’t.”

Then her eyes widen as if she’s said too much. “I mean, I don’t want it.”

But it’s too late. I can almost smell her deception, so desperate am I to change the subject.

“You said can’t.” I set my glass down hard, causing it to ring out loud in the echo-y space. “What did you mean by that?”

Fiore tosses her head, biting her lip. Her voice comes out all breathy. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I round the kitchen island, stalking her mercilessly. “I think it’s something more than that. What did you do, take a drug like Xanax? Huh? You’re afraid the alcohol will interact with it?”

She looks pissed off, biting off her answer. “No.”

For every step that I take forward, she backs up. We move in a slow dance as if we are the hunter and the hunted. “Trying to lose weight? Maybe you’ve learned how many calories are in wine or something, hmm?”

She hugs herself and scowls. “No.”

I smile wickedly. “I don’t think it’s for religious reasons. Otherwise, there are a lot of things you would have to give up, and I don’t think you’d like it.”

She blushes. “I could be religious. You don’t know.”

“I would know by now,” I tell her, reaching out and grabbing her by the waist. “You wouldn’t have enjoyed half of our fucking so goddamn much, I assure you.”

She squeals as I pull her closer. “Monster—”

I kiss her, taking her mouth with as much passion and dominance as I can muster. Bruising her lips, I drive my hands into her hair. When I pull away, she’s breathing hard. Her breath fans my face, her eyes scanning my expression closely.

“I could make this much easier on you,” I taunt. I know she’s just being stubborn at this point, so I am too. I don’t even care about whether or not she drinks. It’s just a means to an end, at this point. “You just have to say yes to the wine.”

“Monster, I can’t,” she insists softly. “I… I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

I actually let out a bark of laughter. Where did she get the idea that this would be a funny trick? “Yeah, right. What baby?”

I expect her face to crinkle with laughter, but she remains sober and serious. “I just found out last night. I’m pregnant.”

I feel her shrink back as if to ward off a blow from me. And then I realize that she’s entirely serious. She’s carrying a child.

My child.

Not just that, but she’s actually worried that I will beat her for it. I stare at her for a few seconds, the shock of her announcement making me freeze. Fiore twists, trying to get out of my grasp. I instinctively hold her tighter, watching the fear play out on her face.

“You’re sure?” I say, trying to calm my racing pulse. There is a faint roaring in my ears, the sound far away.

Her eyes filling with tears, she bites her full bottom lip and nods. When she speaks, she flinches. Her voice is so low, it’s barely there. “Pretty sure.”

My grip on her eases. I look down at her flat stomach, still in shock. “A baby?”

I put my palm over her stomach as if I can somehow feel the life growing inside. I’ve never considered the concept of having a child with half of my DNA. A little boy with my dark hair, or maybe a little girl with Fiore’s gorgeous blonde tresses?

A tear breaks away and tracks down Fiore’s face. “Are you angry?”

I shake my head. “How can I be? I’m just… I’ve never considered that anyone would have my child.”

Even saying it feels funny on my tongue. I cup her cheek, smoothing away the track her tear left behind with the pad of my thumb. Her eyes have never looked so blue before, her skin never so translucent. Even her lips look more pink than I thought possible, her hair blonder.

“You thought I would be angry? You thought I would lash out at you?” I wonder.

She swallows heavily. “Yes.”

“I could never do that to you now. I… I can’t say that I’m a different person than I was a few months ago, but… I love you, Fiore.”

She flinches again. Her responses are so unexpected. “You’re just saying that because I’m pregnant.”

I lean in and kiss her again, taking her lips with all the slow-simmering passion that has been building in me since I realized that I love her. She gasps, her lips parting. Inviting my tongue’s invasion, she brings her hands up to burrow in my hair.

My tongue sweeps her mouth. I love the way she tastes, like honey and mint and just a hint of sweet vanilla. I love how responsive she is to my kiss, her fingers curling against the back of my scalp, breathing hard, her chest heaving. I dip her back a little and see how her eyes close, her eyelashes falling against her cheek.

“I love you, Fiore,” I whisper when I can bear to break away. “I’ll love anything you bring me, even if that means a child. I promise you that.”

Her eyes open, tearful. “Are you sure? Because I can’t stand the idea of somehow driving you away. I love you too, so much that it hurts.”

My mouth kicks up. “I swear it.”

She hugs me then, and I pick her up, carrying her backward toward the bedroom.