Siân stirs but doesn’t wake just yet. I smile at the pout of her lips. I think back on everything, trying to come to terms with how a mother could betray her. I thought mothers, biological or not, were natural nurturers and protectors. How could she not love Siân?
But then again, people do unthinkable things when they feel they’ve been pushed beyond their limits. Siân was a constant reminder of Cynthia’s and Marco’s infidelity. Hell has no fury like a woman scorned. I get that now. Siân might have changed her mind about killing my father, but she’d been scorned too many times to count.
She’ll never have to worry about that again. I’ll keep her safe, teach her how to protect herself, and finally get her to pay closer attention to the things and people around her. I huff at that thought. Here I am going on about her lack of attention when I, too, missed things right in front of me.
The knock on the door pulls me back to the present. Being careful not to wake her, I slip out of bed and walk barefoot to answer it. I don’t need to ask who it is because I already know.
Yesterday took a toll on her. From the wedding, learning that Cynthia is her biological mother, ordering me to kill Samuele, and being kidnapped. One thing after another piled up until her body couldn’t take anymore. At first, I just thought it was her body reacting to the trauma she experienced, but after about the fourth trip to the toilet, I realized it was something else entirely.
For the better part of the morning, I continue to watch her as if I’ll magically see any sign that solidifies my suspicion. The only way to know for sure would be to test. I’ve never used protection with her, and it’s been my goal to plant my seed inside her.
Fuck, she’d looked so fucking gorgeous carrying my baby. I can’t wait to see her round and swollen with the evidence of how fucking perfect we are together.
I swing the door open to Helga standing on the opposite side.
“Buongiorno, signor Russo. Ho le cose che hai richiesto.” Good morning, Mr. Russo. I have the things you’ve requested. She holds a steel tray out toward me, bowing her head until I accept it.
“Grazie Helga.” Thank you, Helga.
She nods and scurries away. Once she’s out of sight, I quietly close the door and make my way back over to the bed. The scent of a hot breakfast fills the room, stirring Siân from her sleep. She groans and twists beneath the sheets before finally opening her eyes.
When she notices me, she smiles gingerly and stretches out her muscles. “Good morning,” she grunts.
“Buongiorno, topolina.” Good morning, little mouse.
“What time is it?” Siân wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands and sits up in bed.
“Just after seven.”
“Really? I feel like I haven’t slept a wink.”
Approaching her, I set the tray on the mattress next to her. “That’s because you didn’t. You were up and down all night.”
“Eww. I’m sorry,” she whines.”
“About?”
“I ruined the night. It was our honeymoon, and I spent the entirety of it hugging the toilet.”
I smirk. “We’ve got nothing but time to commemorate our marriage. All that matters now is that you get something on your stomach.”
“I don’t know what happened. I must have eaten something bad, or my anxiety got to me.”
“I have other thoughts.” I settle in next to her.
She peers up at me for a moment while gripping the handle on the lead at the same time. As she lifts it off, she says. “And what’s that?”
Siân glances down at the tray with wide eyes and her mouth open when she gets her answers. She shakes her head, her hands beginning to tremble a little. She’s visibly nervous, sweat preening along her skin, and the pasty-pale complexion she wore as she vomited returns.
“No. It was everything that happened yesterday.”
I pick up the test and rip open the packaging, then place the test in her hand. Siân doesn’t move. She only stares and the stick, her chest heaving. After everything that’s happened in the last few months, this is the best of them all. And once we know for sure, I’ll have it all—my bride and unborn child.
“Get up. Go take the test,” I encourage.
It takes her a beat, almost as if it took a while for my words to make their way to her ears. She’s shocked, and I get that. Being pregnant is the furthest thing from her mind. But they say when a person dies, new life is born. While technically there hasn’t been a birth yet, learning that she is indeed with child would be as close to that as I can get.
Reluctantly, Siân climbs out of bed, and slowly she trots over to the attached bathroom. She stares back at me every few seconds with fear and trepidation in her eyes. She crosses the threshold, and I hop to my feet, strolling across the space to join her.