Chapter Thirty-Five
Isabella
I woke to find Colton’s arms around me, his steady breathing warming my neck. The memories of last night flooded back…my confession, his immediate acceptance, the way he’d held me while I cried.
The grapes and water on the nightstand made something in my heart swell. Even now, he was taking care of me. Of us.
Of the baby that might not be his.
“You should eat something.” His voice was rough with sleep, but his hands stayed gentle on my waist. Always so careful now, so aware of my triggers. “The grapes are fresh from the vineyard.”
I turned in his arms slowly, needing to see his face. The morning light caught the worry in his eyes, the tight tension in his jaw.
“Allegra says there’s a clinic,” I said quietly. “They can do paternity testing at eight weeks. I don’t really know how far along I am, but—”
“Whatever you want.” His thumb traced my cheekbone, the touch feather-light. “Whatever you need.”
“What do you want? We aren’t even really dating, haven’t put any kind of label on…this. A baby? Is this really something you want?” The words crushed me as they tumbled out of my mouth, but I had to know. Had to know if he was still here beside me because of pity. Because of duty or a righteous sense of obligation.
He was quiet for a long moment, just studying my face. Finally: “Before I met you, I was done with relationships. I never expected…never wanted anything remotely close to intimacy or monogamy. But then you came into my life with your infuriating intelligence and your unwavering tenacity…and you changed all that. What do I want, Bella? I want it to be mine. God help me, I know the odds, but I want this baby to be mine. To be ours.”
The raw honesty in his voice made the tears threaten again. “The timing—”
“Let’s get you to see the doctor,” he said firmly. “We’ll know more at that point. Until then...” His hand slid to my stomach, protective and possessive at once. “Until then, I’ll take care of you both.”
“And if it’s not yours?”
“Then I still take care of you both.” No hesitation. No doubt. Just that same quiet strength that had drawn me to him even before everything shattered. “Whatever you decide, whatever you need. I’m here.”
“You would do that?” I whispered. “Raise another man’s child? After what they did?”
“I would raise your child.” His voice was soft but certain. “Because it’s part of you. Because you deserve to have choices now, after having so many taken away.” His thumb traced gentle circles on my stomach. “And if you choose not to keep it, I’ll support that too. Your body. Your choice.”
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks like a monsoon. How had this happened? How had the bank’s asshole chief counsel become this amazing man who held me like a lover while offering me complete autonomy?
“I don’t know what I want yet,” I admitted. “When Allegra showed me the test results, all I could think was...” I shuddered at the memory.
“I know.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “But…there’s some hope too, isn’t there? A tiny chance that it could be…ours?”
Ours. The word felt dangerous. Wonderful. Terrifying.
“The tunnels,” I said softly. “The timing...it’s…possible. I don’t know for sure what happened to me while I was drugged, but…”
“Yes.” Something flashed behind his eyes—that same hope I’d seen earlier.
“And the bank? The trafficking ring? We can’t just hide in Tuscany forever.”
“We won’t.” His tender tone morphed into one of conviction. “But right now, you are my priority. Everything else can wait.”
“Always doing the right thing.” But I smiled slightly, the first real smile since seeing those two pink lines. “Even about revenge.”
“Especially about revenge.” His hand was warm on my stomach, grounding me to this moment. To him. “It needs to be perfect. Like everything else.”
“Nothing’s perfect anymore.”
“No.” He kissed me softly, barely a brush of lips. “But maybe some things can be better than perfect.”
I let my mind wander again to a baby with Colton’s lips, his beautiful eyes. A future built from the ashes of our past. A love that had survived horror and emerged stronger.
“Just a few weeks,” I whispered against his mouth.
“A few weeks,” he agreed. “And until then...”
“Until then we hope?”
“Until then we heal.” His other hand came up to cup my face. “We plan. We get stronger.”
“Together?”
“Always.”
The vineyard was waking outside our window, workers calling to each other in Italian, Clara’s laughter drifting up from the garden. Normal life continuing while we lay tangled in borrowed sheets, learning how to hope again.
“Eat something,” Colton said, reaching for the grapes. “You need your strength.”
I took one, letting its sweetness burst on my tongue. “For revenge?”
“For life.” He fed me another grape, his touch infinitely gentle. “For healing. For whatever comes next.”
“Even if what comes next isn’t perfect?”
“Especially then.” He gathered me closer, letting me feel his strength, his certainty. “Because perfect isn’t the goal anymore. Living is.”
I settled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Thinking of the life that was growing inside me—his or not his, wanted or not wanted, a choice I’d have to make soon.
But not yet.
Allegra found us in the kitchen an hour later. I was picking at the breakfast Colton had insisted on making—eggs, toast, and fresh fruit from the garden. His protective instincts seemed to have shifted into overdrive, though he was trying not to hover too obviously.
“How are you feeling?” Allegra asked, her tendency to mother everyone around her heightened since we’d learned I was pregnant.
“Like everything’s surreal.” I pushed a strawberry around my plate. “Like I’m still processing.”
“That’s normal.” She squeezed my shoulder as she passed, the casual touch no longer making me flinch.
Progress.
“Have you discussed options?”
Colton stilled by the coffee maker, his back tense. Waiting. Letting me answer.
“We’re going to do a paternity test,” I said. “And then...” I met his eyes across the kitchen. “Then we’ll decide.”
“A good first step.” Allegra’s voice was carefully neutral. “I can make the arrangements at the clinic here in town. They’re very discreet.”
Clara’s voice drifted in from the terrace, singing some Italian song Allegra had taught her. The sound of innocent joy made my throat tight.
“Whatever you decide,” Allegra continued softly, “we’re all here. You have support. You have choices.”
Choices. Such a simple word. Such a profound gift after having all choice stripped away.
Cooper appeared in the doorway, Clara holding his hand, her other arm full of stuffed animals. She reached for me immediately; she’d taken to doing that lately, like she sensed I needed her innocent affection.
“Bella!” She squirmed until Cooper released her hand. “Papa says we’re having a special dinner tonight. With the good wine that makes Mama laugh.”
I caught her as she crashed into my legs, breathing in her clean child-scent. “Does he now?”
“Family dinner,” Cooper explained, his eyes kind. “Seemed like a good night for it.”
Colton moved closer, his hand settling warm on my lower back. Supportive.
“The good wine will have to wait,” he said quietly.
Clara looked up at me with bright eyes. “Are you sick, Bella? Is that why no wine?”
I felt Colton’s hand tighten slightly. Heard Allegra’s soft intake of breath. Saw Cooper’s eyes fill with something akin to grief.
But all I could focus on was this little girl who loved so freely. Who didn’t know about choices that could break you.
“Something like that, ma petite ,” I managed.
She patted my leg solemnly. “Papa says wine is like love—you have to wait until it’s ready.”
Something between a laugh and a sob escaped me. Colton’s arms came around me instantly, Clara still pressed against my legs.
A family tableau. A moment of perfect imperfection.
“Come, Clara,” Allegra said quietly. “Let’s go pick tomatoes for dinner. The big ones you found yesterday.”
Clara squeezed my legs once more before skipping off with her mother. Cooper lingered, his eyes meeting his twin’s over my head.
“We should talk about logistics,” he said quietly. “About the clinic, about security.”
Colton’s arms tightened fractionally. “Later.”
“No,” I straightened in his embrace. “He’s right. We need plans. Contingencies.” I turned to face them both. “The bank has people everywhere. If they find out I’m alive, let alone pregnant…”
“They won’t.” There was certainty in Cooper’s voice now. “The clinic Allegra found, it’s off the grid. Old family connections. No electronic records.”
“Like everything else in Italy,” I managed a weak smile. “Built on relationships and secrets.”
“Exactly.” Cooper’s expression softened. “But Colton’s right too—logistics can wait. Today is for family.”
Family. The word felt dangerous. Wonderful. Possible.
“I need to train,” I said suddenly. Both men looked at me sharply. “Not...not combat. Just movement. I need to feel strong today.”
“The yoga pavilion,” Colton suggested. “Some fresh air would do you some good.”
I nodded, grateful he understood. Grateful they all understood.
Cooper squeezed my shoulder as he passed—the casual affection of family—before heading out to join his wife and daughter in the garden.
“Come with me?” I asked Colton. “Just...be there?”
“Always.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Whatever you need.”
The yoga pavilion was my favorite spot on the estate, consisting of weathered stone and climbing roses, hidden from the main house by a grove of lemon trees. A place to breathe. To move. To remember how to inhabit my own body again.
Colton settled in a corner with his laptop, close enough to watch over me, far enough to give me space. He was so careful with boundaries now.
I moved through the poses Allegra had taught me, letting my body remember its strength. Its grace. Its ability to heal.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Colton observed after a while.
“Says the man who overthinks everything.” But I smiled slightly, holding a warrior pose. “It’s just...everything’s changing. Again.”
“Yes.” He set aside his laptop, watching me with those intense eyes. “But this time you have choices. Control.”
“Do I?” The pose started to shake. I moved into a gentler stretch. “This baby...if it’s not yours...”
“Is still yours,” he said firmly. “Still your choice. No one else’s.”
“And if I choose...” I couldn’t finish.
“Then I support you.” He stood, moving closer but not touching. “And if you choose to keep it, I support that too. And if it’s mine...”
“If it’s yours?”
“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life making damn sure you both know how loved you are.”
The simple declaration made me lose my balance. He caught me automatically, hands steady on my waist.
“Sorry,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for.
“Don’t be.” His thumbs traced gentle circles on my hips. “Not ever.”
I turned in his arms, needing to see his face. “How are you so sure? About everything?”
“I’m not.” His smile was slight. “I’m terrified. Of failing you. Of not being enough. Of making the wrong choices.”
“But?”
“But I love you.” Simple. Direct. Perfect. “And that makes everything else manageable.”
The words hit me like an unexpected summer rain. I’d hoped, wondered, thought I knew. But hearing him say it like that…
“You love me?”
“Of course I love you.” His hand came up to cup my face. “How could I not?”
I pressed closer, breathing in his familiar scent. “Even now? Even now that I’m broken?”
“You’re not broken.” His tone was fierce now. “You’re surviving. Living. Choosing.”
“Loving?” I offered the word like a prayer.
“Yes?” So much hope in his voice.
“Yes.” I stretched up to kiss him—our first real kiss since the rescue. “I love you, too.”
He kissed me back carefully, letting me set the pace. Letting me choose how much, how far, how deep.
Always letting me choose.
When we broke apart, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Whatever happens,” he promised. “Whatever you choose. Whatever the test shows. I’m here.”
“I know.” And I did know. Down to my bones. “That’s why I can be brave.”
“You’ve always been brave.”
“No.” I touched his face, tracing the changes months of worry had wrought. “I’ve always been smart. Now I’m learning to be brave.”
“Like me?” The trace of a smile.
“Like us.” I settled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “Not perfect anymore. But maybe better.”
His arms came around me, gentle but sure. Protected but not possessed.
Loved.