Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Luca
Harper glares at me, and I swear I haven’t done a damn thing wrong. It’s Harper who suggested terminating the pregnancy.
Well, not in as many words, but she made it clear she wasn’t certain she wanted to keep it, so I assume that’s what she meant, because no one is giving away my child.
To say I’m a bit grumpy after that announcement is the understatement of the century. But I played the dutiful husband while Harper gave her statement to the Breckenridge police, who interviewed her at the compound.
But now that we’re alone, well, in the car heading back to campus and away from the police and my parents, I have no trouble being pissed at her.
I get it.
The whole pregnancy thing is her body, but still, that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.
We’re married.
She’s my wife.
That’s my kid in there—and I swerve back into the lane as I realize I’ve been drifting and not fully paying attention to the road.
Shit.
I need to be more careful because my other kid, Zeke, is in the backseat. Along with my friends.
“What’s with the tension?” Liam asks, taking the attention off of him.
How nice of him to drudge up my recent drama, but it’s not like he has the slightest clue. Or maybe he does? He heard about the pregnancy when I found out, while Harper was in captivity.
“Did you make out with Harper too?” Sophia jokes, and Liam tosses up his middle finger at his sister. She gives a shrug. “It’s going to be fun working together.”
Liam grumbles under his breath, something about this wasn’t his idea. Can’t say I’m surprised, since Liam never mentions his father or the family business.
I didn’t see him ever coming to work for Dante, let alone his own father. And Sophia, that was news to me that she’d be working for my old man. But I hear it’s that or return to New York and be forced into an arranged marriage.
I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.
Harper rests her hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze. “It’s been a long day, can we not fight?” she asks, her voice soft, quiet, making it so that only I can hear her.
“We’re not fighting.” I keep my focus on the road and shift in my seat.
Her hand falls away and moves back to her lap.
I don’t want to be fighting with her, and the pregnancy discussion, if it’s true, and she’s having my baby, then it’s a conversation we should have, just the two of us. I reach for her hand, intertwining our fingers together.
She gives my hand a squeeze; it’s a simple gesture, a truce. Neither of us wants to be fighting.
And I hate thinking that I could make her feel awful, worrying about being pregnant after what that horrible doctor had done to her. How he violated her. I doubt he was a physician at all, probably just a perverted man who wanted absolute control.
I clench my jaw, exhaling sharply out of my nose. Heat emanates through me. The car is warm, and I turn the thermostat down several degrees. I push out a shaky breath, trying to steady myself as I focus on the road in front of me.
It’s late. Growing darker by the minute. And I’m beyond tired, although I doubt I’ll be able to sleep tonight. I imagine Harper won’t be able to either without more nightmares plaguing us.
The silence hangs heavy between us, and Zeke breaks the tension as he wiggles in his car seat.
“Are we there yet?” Zeke asks, leaning forward, his seatbelt restraining him. “Home yet?”
“We’ll be home soon,” Harper says, recognizing the route. We’ve taken it enough times, she’s familiar with the drive.
I could practically make it with my eyes shut, which at least is comforting that I don’t have to stare at GPS and worry about missing the turn. I’m on autopilot driving home.
“I’m bored,” Zeke proclaims rather loudly.
“Do you want to count all the different color cars we see?” Bristol asks.
I glance in my rearview mirror and Zeke nods excitedly.
Ashton, Liam, and I miss hockey practice. We text coach to tell him that all three of us came down with the stomach flu after eating bad sushi over the weekend, which seems to satisfy him when he texts back for us to feel better.
We spend the evening chilling out, playing video games, and ordering pizza for dinner. No one is up to hiking over to the dining hall to get dinner, which is fine with me. I’d rather kick my feet up and relax.
Zeke makes a massive mess of his pizza and Harper gets him cleaned up with a bath before she tucks him into bed. I kiss the little guy goodnight and grab Harper’s hand as we head out of his bedroom, wanting a few minutes alone with her, before we retire for the night.
It’s nowhere near bedtime for us, but we’ve spent most of the evening with our housemates, and I imagine if it were up to her, she’d go right back on the couch with them.
She’s been avoiding me.
Maybe it’s not on purpose, but it certainly feels that way.
“Can we talk?” I squeeze her hand and tug her toward our bedroom.
She emits a heavy sigh and nods. “We’ll be back in a few, guys. Someone can take my turn,” she says in regard to the video game.
They’ve already skipped her turn once, while Zeke was in the bath. Technically, I took Harper’s turn as we kept rotating players in and out so that everyone can play.
She follows me into the bedroom and closes the door behind us. I can already feel the tension mounting. She drops my hand, folds her arms across her chest, and raises an eyebrow.
Her stance tells me she’s pissed and I better be quick.
“Are we going to talk about the pregnancy?” I ask, gesturing at her abdomen.
Harper rolls her eyes and takes a step back, bumping into the door. “Do we really have to do this now?” She’s avoiding looking at me and swipes her tongue across her lips. Her gaze is anywhere but on me.
“We have to do this sometime,” I say. “And we should have an actual doctor examine you.”
“No!” Harper’s eyes widen and she finally meets my stare.
“After what you went through—”
She cuts me off. “Precisely! I’m not ready for that, Luca. I need time.” She pushes past me and paces the length of our bedroom. “No one is touching me!”
“Okay.” I run a hand through my hair and take a step back, leaning against the dresser. “It would be good for you to talk to someone about what happened.”
Her dark laughs startles me.
“You want me to tell a therapist how I work for the mafia?” She stares at me seriously, not the least bit amused by my suggestion.
“I’m sure my father has a therapist available who is well-aware of his business dealings and knows not only how to be discreet, but keep confidentiality.”
“I’m not talking to a therapist. I’m not crazy!” Harper glares at me.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I never called you crazy. You were kidnapped, Harper. Talking to someone, anyone, it would probably be a good idea. It might even help.”
She adverts her gaze, avoiding my stare and stops pacing. “I’m not broken.” Her words are barely audible, hardly above a whisper.
They break my heart.
“I promise, I never thought you were,” I say. Slowly, I reach out for her, wanting her to tell me if she doesn’t want me to touch her, but those words never come.
She falls into my embrace, her body melding with mine as I envelop her in a hug. “You are the strongest person I know,” I whisper, my hands firm on her back, and I mean every word. Not everyone could endure what she went through and come out tougher.
Harper pulls back slightly, her glassy eyes staring up at me. “You hate me for not wanting this pregnancy.”
Exhaling, I pull her closer, tighter. “I could never hate you.”
Her face grazes my neck, her tears silent but moistening my skin as I hold her in my arms. My heart shatters for what she went through because of them. Those monsters, the DeLucas.
I’d murder all of them if they weren’t already dead, if we hadn’t already destroyed their organization and home. That’s the only light I see right now, that and Harper, she’s alive. She’s home, with me.
I’d blame my father, but I’m as much responsible as he is. And while I’m certain Livia and her posse are dead, who is to say someone else won’t rise up and claim her throne?
“I’ll talk to my father in the morning,” I whisper.
Slowly, she pulls back, wipes the stray tears with the back of her hand and sniffles, glancing up at me.
Seeing the tears breaks my heart all over again.
I’d kill to protect my wife and my family.
“What?” she asks, her brow furrowing with concern. “We just spent the past hour with him. Did you forget to tell him something?”
My fingers graze her cheek, and then I push a strand of her blonde tresses behind her ear as she leans into my touch. “Yes, that you’re no longer going to be working for him.”
Harper remains silent, staring at me, perhaps wondering what that means.
“You’ll work for me.”
She pulls back, her brow pinches, and takes a physical step away from me, like I hit a nerve. “I thought we were equals.”
“We are, that isn’t how I meant it.”
“That’s what you said. I’ll work for you,” she says, repeating my own words, and I grimace. She folds her arms across her chest, tilting her head slightly as she glares at me.
“You shouldn’t have to shoulder the responsibility of working for my father or being part of the mafia. You’ve done enough.”
Slowly, I reach for Harper, my hands grazing her arms, untangling her hold around herself as I pull her to me. Her body is slack, she’s not entirely fighting me, but she’s not ready to embrace me yet, either.
I guide my thumb to her chin, tilting her head up slightly, forcing her to look at me. “This isn’t your fight.”
“But it is,” she says, glaring at me. “Why can’t you see that if you’re involved, so am I? I don’t want to be your mother, on the sidelines, not involved in Dante’s business dealings.”
Smirking, I nuzzle her nose, my breath teasing her as I kiss her cheek. “Babe, my mom knows everything that goes on with the business. She might pretend not to know, but they share everything. She even offers input, the guys just don’t see her as one of them.”
“Precisely!” Her eyes light up. “I should be equal, it’s our enterprise.”
Harper pulls back and I tighten my hold, keeping her hips pressed against mine. I refuse to let her go, ever. She’s mine.
“Technically, the business belongs to my father,” I remind her. Dante runs the mafia, he’s not handing over the reins just yet. One day, he will, either when he dies or retires. I’m not sure which it’ll be, but given the amount of violence, death seems more likely.
“I’m not working for you.” Harper stares me dead in the eyes, her jaw tightens.
“Fine,” I say and smirk, laughing under my breath. “I’d have convinced him to let you go, not force you to work for the family at all, but I get the feeling that won’t make you happy either.”
“We’re a team. A partnership. If you’re involved, then so am I.” She’s filled with tenacity and there’s a fire behind her dark gaze. “We do this together, Luca.”
My jaw ticks. I had fully intended to tell my father that Harper is out. I was ready to give up my dream of playing professional hockey to protect my wife.
Leaning in, I kiss her and then pull away, glancing at the floor, my mind a million other places right now. I had it all figured out. I’d go on to run the family business. Harper would take care of Zeke, finish college, graduate, and get a job outside the business.
She’d be safe—safer than working alongside the mafia, at least. But so long as I work for Dante, there will always be threats. Threats to my wife, my son, the family.
Even with the DeLucas dead, there are always rivals, new and old. You don’t run an organization without creating a few enemies along the way.
I pull back, stalking toward the door.
“Luca?” Harper’s voice is soft and warm, like honey, filled with concern. “Love, where are you going?”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you.”