There was no sign of her being pregnant yet. Apart from the morning sickness and her mood, no one would be the wiser.
He stared at her, a little … annoyed.
“We need to get married,” he said.
The words shocked him, but he was able to hide it a lot better than Milah.
“No.”
“I’m not accepting no for an answer.”
Milah folded her arms and shook her head. “Then how about hell no. Fuck no. Take your pick.”
“You’re carrying my child.”
“Exactly, that is all I’m carrying, but don’t for a second think I don’t see the disdain in your eyes. Hear it in your voice. No matter what happens between us, I will always be a Russo in your eyes.” She growled. “Why not send me and my child away? Isn’t that what happens to mistresses? That’s all I am because I wasn’t good enough to be a wife to a De Luca.”
“I’ve just said you’re marrying me.”
“And I said I’m not marrying you. I already belong to you because of my father, but that is where it ends. You and he are not going to take another thing I was looking forward to.”
Damon stopped and watched her as she tried to leave. He grabbed her hand before she could take another step and pulled her in close. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“None of your business.”
“Milah, you have no secrets from me.”
“You don’t think I don’t know that?” she asked. “But this time, you will never find out what I want.”
When she pulled out of his hold, he let her go. His gaze followed her until she walked out of his sight, and even then, he couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. Milah was a fighter, and he loved that about her.
Damon froze.
He didn’t love anything about her.
She was a Russo. There was nothing to love. She meant nothing to him.
Glancing back at the cemetery, he didn’t want to go and see his parents, but while he was here, he didn’t have much of a choice.
Walking away without showing respect would gnaw at him.
Fucking Milah.
Why couldn’t she be someone he found infuriating? Instead, he had to deal with a passionate, caring, and considerate woman.
The perfect woman to be his wife and the mother of his children.
He opened the small gate and stepped through. He glanced at the stones of his grandparents, but went straight to his parents. Resting against each other. Mother and father.
“Hey, Mom,” he said. “Hey, Dad.”
No response.
“So, I did it. I got everything we had ever hoped for. Russo is no more. His empire has fallen with no way of rising up. We win.”
Silence.
“So why does it feel … wrong? I have a bitter taste in my mouth. Milah Russo is pregnant with my kid. You’re going to be grandparents.” He didn’t know what his father would say if he was right in front of him. “Her child will be a Russo if I don’t get her to marry me.”
He took a deep breath. “I guess Russo was one step ahead of me. He knew what I’d do with his daughter. This is his … counter fight, isn’t it? I didn’t ask for Milah’s hand in marriage, so, she is now going to be so fucking stubborn. What do I do?” he asked, looking at his parents’ graves lying side by side.
They had defeated the odds. Turned an arranged marriage into a love match. He had flashes of memories from birthdays to holidays. When his mother was alive, their house had been filled with love and laughter. It didn’t matter the fight that was going on outside or the war constantly raging between the Russos and the De Lucas. So long as they had each other, they could face everything.
Love.
That was what he needed.
He smiled. “So you still have all the answers for me, don’t you, Pop? Love. I’ve got to make Milah fall in love with me. Marry her, and then every single child she has will be a De Luca, and Russo will cease to matter.”
It felt right.
There was only one problem. He didn’t have a clue on how to make a woman fall in love with him. He was used to them falling all over themselves for him. He never had to put any effort in.
This was … this pissed him off. He had no fucking idea what he was going to do.
Running a hand down his face, he realized he’d won one war only to start another.