His Dirty Bargain (Dirty Billionaires 3)

Shrugging, I don’t look up from my phone. Relief comes over me as I read the text from Bethany letting me know Matteo is okay. “It’s not your fault. It wasn’t the best hiding place. I wasn’t ready yet.”

Karen nods. We don’t talk much as she cooks the oatmeal, then sets down the sugar and some toast beside my bowl. She leaves with a pat on my hand.

I’m finishing breakfast when Enzo comes downstairs. “Good morning,” I murmur as I chew my toast.

“Morning.” It’s abrupt. “Matteo is all right, in case you cared.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath then another. It doesn’t work. I run for the half bath and lose the breakfast I ate. Enzo touches my back, the touch stings, I shrug him off. Once it finally stops I rinse my mouth out. It’s not enough, though, so I head upstairs to brush my teeth.

“Chloe.”

I ignore him and keep walking. I’m brushing my teeth when I see him in the mirror behind me. Wiping my mouth clean, his hand goes down on my arm. I shrug him off. “I’m sorry.”

Climbing onto the bed he’s made, I work to breathe deep to keep the tears at bay. I won’t let them happen where he can see them.

“Chloe, I’m trying to apologize.”

“You apologized. Please leave me alone, a headache is coming on.” Trying to shut him out, I close my eyes.

“The pilot will be back this afternoon. Do you want to leave tonight or tomorrow?”

“Leave where?” I don’t bother opening my eyes.

He sighs. “For our honeymoon.”

“We don’t need a honeymoon. You got the job done. I don’t want to go on a honeymoon.” The idea of ten days of nothing but Enzo feels like torture.

Another sigh. I swear to god if he sighs again I’m going to deck him. “I would like for us to go on a honeymoon, please.”

“I would not like to go on a honeymoon. Please go away.”

“Look...” I refuse to open my eyes even though I can feel him hovering over me. “I’m sorry about announcing you were pregnant at the wedding without talking to you. I didn’t think, I was excited.”

I shake my head, keeping my eyes closed. “Whatever, what’s done is done. I really want to take a nap.”

“Fine. I’m going into work.”

I squeeze my eyes tight. That’s what you get, Chloe—you pushed him away and he went.

24

Chloe

And over the next few days, he just kept getting further and further away. He didn’t come to bed that night. The next day he was up before me as usual and didn’t come home until after ten, when he didn’t come to bed again. It’s Wednesday before I realize he moved into the guest room. At least he doesn’t hear me when I cry at night.

I’m trying not to pace in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. Bethany gave me the number for the best OB/GYN in the city. I wondered if she was exaggerating, but the Matisse I’m staring at says she’s not. It was also hard to get an appointment when I first called them last Monday, they didn’t have any openings for six months. So I did something I swore I wouldn’t do: I told them my last name was Sabatini and my husband Enzo Sabatini was hoping for a sooner appointment. They had an appointment for me a week later.

“Why are you still waiting? Your appointment was for ten minutes ago.”

I can’t believe Enzo is frowning down at me. “What are you doing here?”

“Being supportive. The appointment was on your calendar. Our calendars have been synced for weeks.”

“More like checking to make sure your precious fetus is fine.”

“If you knew, then why did you ask?”

The nurse calls out, “Chloe Sabatini.”