Chapter 3

Vincenzo's POV She was lying. Except-I hadn't worn a condom that night. And it hadn't hit me until that exact second just how colossally stupid that had been. "Are you sure?" My voice was calm. Masking the storm inside me. She stepped back, like my composure confirmed I was some kind of psychopath. She might have been right. "Yes, I'm sure," she snapped. "I have been to the doctor." "How far along?" Her eyes narrowed. "You know exactly how far along I am." "Does anyone else know?" Her forehead creased. "Are you asking if my sister knows I'm pregnant with your baby?" A humorless laugh. "No. I never told anyone about that night. It wasn't exactly a highlight of my life." It had been one of mine. "You've asked a lot of questions," she said. "I deserve to ask one." I grimaced. Out in the garden, crystal clinked-someone calling for toasts. Everything was moving too damn fast. I needed the world to stop spinning so I could figure out what the hell to do. "You said you met Delphine after me?" "That's right." "How long after?" Her voice was soft, like she didn't really want to know the answer. Realizing this, she straightened, crossing her arms over her chest as if that could shield her from the truth. It didn't help. The dress she wore clung to her in all the right places-wrong for this moment, wrong for me. But tempting all the same. "Not long after," I said. She bit her lip, turning slightly, then-she twisted back. Blurted out, "Why are you marrying my sister?" That one caught me off guard. Was she fishing for my motives, or was this some sideways confession of her feelings? Either way, the answer wasn't simple. "I love your sister." "You love my sister," she repeated. "What do you love about her?" "Pardon?" "I just find it hard to believe," she said, folding her arms, "that you can go from meeting her, to loving her, to proposing in a matter of weeks. I just don't want my sister marrying some rich, pompous playboy who's going to stop caring about her the second she has a ring on her finger." "And you've jumped to that conclusion because...?" "Because you don't strike me as the kind of man who makes hasty decisions." She paused. "At least not when it comes to romance." Her gaze sharpened. "Which means you have an ulterior motive for marrying Delphine, and it's not love." I hadn't expected that. It was inconvenient-knowing exactly how that body looked coming undone beneath me. Not the image I needed in my head while kissing my future wife. "The baby," I said and she flinched. "Are you keeping it?" Her head snapped up. "Of course, you'd ask that. God, all men are the same. Well, fuck you-I'm not doing that. I decided that I'm keeping the baby." The assumption stung. It would have made things easier, sure-but I wasn't the man she thought I was. Not entirely. "If you're keeping the baby, then there are things that need to be figured out," "No need. I've already figured it out." She lifted her chin defiantly. "You disappear from our lives. I raise this baby on my own. And my sister gets to marry someone who actually loves her." I nearly laughed-until I realized just how serious she was. "That's your plan?" "Sure is." "It's a fantasy. I'm not breaking up with Delphine, and I'm certainly not going to let you raise this baby on your own." She stopped short, her face coloring with shock. "Y-you... Wait, what?" "What is it, Ximena?" I asked, hating how sweet and forbidden her name tasted on my tongue. "Does that not fit in with your assessment of my character?" "You... you can't be in this child's life," she stammered, the flush creeping down her neck. "That's not possible." "Why not?" "Because of Delphine!" she snapped. I shrugged. "Delphine might be upset at first, but she'll understand. I didn't even know her when you and I met. What she won't understand is why you're trying so hard to convince me to leave her." I was dangerously close to hitting a nerve. If she kept pushing, I was done pulling my punches. Ximena drew a deep breath, her chest rising and falling in a way I couldn't ignore. The thin fabric of her dress strained with the motion, and for a fleeting second, I imagined how easy it would be to rip it away. One hand. That was all it would take. Then she'd be bare and flushed beneath me, wet and willing, ready for what I had been aching to do again for ten endless, fucking weeks. But she shattered the thought with a hissed, "You don't know me very well, Vincenzo." "Because if you did," she pressed on, "you'd know I love my sister more than anything. Delphine is the best person I know. But she doesn't see the world for what it is. She believes the best in people, trusts too easily, gives chances to those who don't deserve them. I want her to be happy-but she won't be with a man who doesn't love her." "You're making a lot of assumptions, Ximena." She shook her head. "I don't think I am. I'm trying to protect Delphine." "Like you did with Killian Smith?" Her breath caught, the color draining from her face before a fresh wave of heat rushed in. I had struck a nerve. White-hot hurt flared across her collarbone. But with the entire D’Angelo mafia balanced on the razor's edge of this moment, I couldn't afford to back down just to spare her feelings. "That... that was not the same thing..." I stepped closer, crowding her against the wall. "Do you think Delphine will see it that way?" Tears welled in her eyes, because the only way I'd know about Killian Smith was if Delphine had told me. If the hurt Ximena had caused her was still fresh. "Trust me, Ximena-" "'Trust you'?" she scoffed, snapping out of her shock. "Trusting you is the last fucking thing I'd ever do. I'd rather-" The words were drowned out by the unmistakable crack of a gunshot. Ximena froze. "What the-" More shots ripped through the night, shattering the civilized chatter coming from the garden. Then came the screams. "TAKE COVER!" "What the hell is going on?" Ximena gasped. I pulled out my gun. "Get behind me. We've got company."