Three
ANGELO
H ow in the hell did this happen?
The woman was Lockwood’s daughter? This gorgeous creature had come from that ugly troll? And Angelo had slept with her? The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water, leaving him momentarily stunned. He couldn’t shake the image of Lockwood’s scowling face from his mind, and the thought of being connected to that family sent a shiver down his spine.
He must’ve heard him wrong. Lockwood must have said something else—something that merely sounded like “daughter,” like… “slaughter”?
Sure .
Or maybe “water”?
Yeah, definitely .
And then he heard it again. Apparently, Lockwood only used the word daughter when addressing her, even though she had previously called him Sir.
That somewhat clarified the palpable tension between the two of them. She had sat rigidly in her chair, her body language radiating discomfort as if she would rather be anywhere else but in that conference room. Positioned next to her father , she maintained a perfectly straight posture, her eyes focused intently on the table in front of her. Throughout the meeting, she had remained mostly silent, only breaking her stillness to offer a few muted hums of acknowledgment and the occasional, hesitant “yes, sir,” her voice barely rising above a whisper.
I fucked the daughter of my enemy and she probably has daddy issues, considering that monster she has for a father.
Marvelous .
At least that saved him from having to ask her out. She was still hot-as-the-fucking-sun, radiating an allure that could set fire to a snowman, but now she was officially off-limits.
The thought of pursuing her made his stomach twist like a pretzel. He couldn’t even look at her right now without feeling like he’d committed some kind of cosmic faux pas.
Every time he caught a glimpse of her dazzling smile, it felt like an electric shock, igniting all those mixed feelings that had bubbled to the surface during their brief encounter. It was a maddening combination of attraction and guilt, and he decided that staring at the bland, beige walls would be a much safer option.
“Right,” he heard her sweet, sweet voice again as she came back to his side.
Stay down, big guy.
Angelo had apparently lost all control over his own body. A surge of frustration coursed through him, tightening his fists and setting his jaw. Suddenly, he was engulfed in a wave of anger that he couldn’t shake off.
He had envisioned a night filled with the sweet taste of the woman before him, a night where every glance and smile would lead to something more. But now, those plans lay in ruins, shattered by one man’s interference. It was all her fucking father’s fault.
Little cock block.
“Mr. Lockwood is available in three weeks, Mr. Taylor. Is the 26th okay for you? Four o’clock?” she asked as the old man retreated to his office. But he had absolutely no idea. He couldn’t even think at that moment.
Calliope—bless her for actually doing her job—stepped up to his side with his calendar open on her phone. “Let me check.”
A bitter thought crossed his untrusting mind.
Did she know who I was that night?
His anger multiplied, bubbling up like a pot of water left on the stove far too long, threatening to boil over at any moment. As his blood began to simmer, he had to fight the urge to lash out, reminding himself that losing control wouldn’t help anyone, especially not him.
He tuned back into the conversation between Calliope and the seemingly deceiving woman. She was definitely still pure sex personified. Too bad he couldn’t make her drop to her knees right then and there and force her to choke on his cock for not recognizing him—or telling him who she really was.
“I believe we are all set,” Allison chirped. He had finally remembered her name but kept it to himself. Angelo originally hoped she would recognize him or at least reveal her name, but it was evident he had thought wrong.
“May I have a word, Miss? Privately,” he grunted out, determined to get some answers.
She seemed confused and intimidated, but she nodded nonetheless and led the way to an empty conference room with significantly less lighting than the one where the interrogation had taken place.
Small mercies .
Allison sat in the chair closest to the door—a smart move, as it gave her a quick escape route if things went south.
Angelo stalked closer, his presence looming as he tried to exude an air of intimidation. He straightened his posture and narrowed his eyes slightly, letting the tension in the room thicken like a storm cloud. He could see her pulse quicken as she avoided his gaze, her fingers nervously tapping on the armrest.
Angelo could almost hear her thoughts racing, and he relished the power dynamic, feeling like a predator circling its prey. The air was charged, and he intended to make sure she understood the seriousness of the situation.
He stopped when he got so close that he could breathe in her sweet scent: honey and lavender.
Angelo leaned back on the conference table and crossed his arms. She visibly tensed.
“So, how long are you going to keep up this little ruse?” He questioned. Obvious confusion crossed her face before she covered it with a blank, professional look.
“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Taylor,” she replied. Any trace of her previously soft tone was gone. She meant business now.
I’ll show you who’s boss when I put my hand around your throat.
“Cut the shit, Allison,” Angelo grumbled. He finally revealed the fact he knew who she was, tired of this little game. “You can stop pretending.”
She huffed and stood abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she stared up at him intently. It was as if she were weighing her options, contemplating whether to confront him or flee. The silence hung heavily between them, charged with tension, as her brow furrowed in deep thought.
Suddenly, she jumped away from him as if burned by some invisible fire, her breath quickening. The sudden movement startled him, and for a moment, he was taken aback by the raw intensity of her reaction.
She took a few steps back, her cheeks flushed. The space between them felt electric, charged with unspoken words and the weight of their unresolved conflict.
“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. “You—We—Fuck!”
Allison started pacing, and he rolled his eyes.
Seriously, has this woman had theater training?
He heard her mumble something, but he couldn’t quite make out what she was trying to say.
“Are you done?” he snapped at her. He was getting sick of this back and forth. He was on a clock.
“Shut up, I’m trying to think!” she hissed back at him.
Well… somebody has claws.
“Allow me to jog your memory, sweet girl .” His voice was dark, and she froze in place.
She shook her head vehemently, looking anywhere but at him, as if she were refusing the nickname.
That’s a pity. I called her that multiple times that night and she loved each and every one of them.
She looked ready to start pacing again, but he grabbed her wrist. He hadn’t even realized he’d moved closer. She was like a magnet.
She stood in place, still unable to look at him. He leaned in, taking a subtle sniff of her intoxicating scent. His hand left her wrist, but he didn’t release her. He stroked up her arm, her shoulder and he stopped by her neck. Her gorgeous, long neck that was tempting him to either taste it or mark it.
It’s that goddamn dress. That tight dress with thin straps that show off her collarbones.
He wanted to eat her alive.
She shuddered lightly when his thumb stroked her pulse. She breathed in and then looked up. Jade green met chocolate brown. He could have kissed her right then. But he suddenly remembered why he couldn’t.
He stepped back, releasing his hold on her and straightening his suit, if only to give his hands something to do.
“You’re the guy. You’re him,” Allison said, appearing dumbfounded. A pretty flush decorated her cheeks and traveled all the way down until it disappeared beneath her dress.
“If by that you mean ‘am I the guy who fucked you through the night until the sun came up two months ago’ then, yes. I’m him.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm, his arms crossing in front of his chest nonchalantly.
If she really doesn’t remember me, I’ll be terribly offended. I put on my best show for her that night.
“Stop being so smug,” she spat at him, her voice laced with irritation. Her eyes flashed with a fierce determination, as if she were trying to pierce through his facade with a laser focus.
The corners of her mouth curled into a disdainful sneer, amplifying the intensity of her words. She stood her ground, fists clenched at her sides, ready to take on the world—or at least him.
The air crackled with tension, and Angelo could almost see the steam rising from her, her frustration palpable. It was clear she wasn’t going to back down, and he couldn’t help but admire her fiery spirit.
“You seriously expect me to believe that you had no idea who I was when we met? That you just happened to be my competition’s daughter?” It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep his voice down.
He was furious, a tempest of emotions swirling inside him like a tornado threatening to tear through everything in its path.
He wanted to scream, to unleash his pent-up frustration into the void, and perhaps break something—anything—that would shatter the suffocating tension in the room. The urge to storm out was almost overwhelming, but deep down, he knew he couldn’t walk away just yet. Most of all, he craved answers, like a parched man in a desert yearning for water.
“Is that so hard to accept? I had no idea you were the Angelo Taylor. I didn’t even remember your fucking name, let alone your face!” she exclaimed, waving her arms for emphasis.
He heard her mumble something that sounded a lot like, “No matter how hard I’ve been trying to remember for the past week.”
That’s odd.
Curiosity got the better of him.
“What do you mean you’ve been trying to remember?” he asked her, less malice in his tone this time. She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed he had overheard something not meant for his ears. She crossed her arms and leaned her hip on the conference table just as he had done earlier.
Only a thousand times sexier than I could ever manage.
“It’s none of your—” She cut herself off, apparently contemplating something. She seemed to steel herself, preparing for whatever she was about to say. And then she visibly deflated. His curiosity peaked, but she didn’t give him the chance to speak.
“Look, I honestly didn’t know who you were,” she started again. “And I need you to pretend nothing happened between us. Please.”
He nearly fainted. Hearing her sweet, sexy voice say “please” went straight to his core. He cleared his throat lightly, feeling hotter by the minute.
“And why should I believe you?” He raised an eyebrow, staring her down with every bit of intimidation he had learned as a CEO.
She ran a hand through her hair and he wished he’d done that himself.
“Oh, um, I don’t know. The very obvious look of disbelief on my face wasn’t enough?” The sarcasm in her tone both irked and aroused him.
“You and I both know looks can be deceiving, Allison.” His words were cold, but his tone was teasing.
He wanted to provoke a reaction. Something other than a simple eye roll. No matter how attractive that eye roll actually was.
Instead, he got only a small huff and a nod from her, a reaction that felt more like complacency than agreement.
Where did that fire go?
Angelo shook his head, trying to dispel the inappropriate thoughts swirling in his mind like a pesky fly he couldn’t swat away. Images of her fiery spirit clashing with his own anger tugged at him, igniting a mix of frustration and undeniable attraction that he didn’t want to acknowledge.
Suddenly, there was an almost imperceptible shift around Allison. She swayed on her feet and Angelo barely had enough time to react—if he hadn’t been paying such close attention to her, he wouldn’t have had any time at all. But he was attuned to her like a radio to a favorite station.
Her hands instinctively shot up to his shoulders, her fingers digging in like they were trying to anchor herself against the tide of whatever was about to happen.
“Are you okay?” he asked, urgency creeping into his voice as her eyes fluttered shut. He resisted the overwhelming urge to shake her. “Allison, what’s wrong?”
Slowly, her eyes opened, revealing a hint of uncertainty. “Okay, I promise I wasn’t just practicing my fainting skills for a dramatic moment,” she said, managing a smile despite the obvious tension.
Angelo raised an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. “If that’s your talent, I’d suggest a different stage. Maybe a karaoke bar? Way less drama.”
She chuckled softly, though it quickly faded into a more serious tone. “I’ve been feeling… different lately.”
His heart raced, a sinking feeling mixed with confusion. “Different how? What are you—”
“I’m pregnant,” Allison blurted out, making his heart stop beating altogether.
Angelo didn’t react. For a moment, the world around him fell silent. The bustling office, the distant sounds of traffic, even the chatter of other people outside the boardroom faded into a muted hum as he processed her words. He stared at her, searching her face for signs that this was some elaborate joke, a prank that he had unwittingly become part of.
Allison’s gaze was steady but filled with apprehension, as if she were waiting for him to shatter the fragile silence that hung between them. “Angelo?” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “Say something.”
He finally blinked, feeling like he’d just surfaced from deep water. “Pregnant?” The word felt foreign, heavy, lodged in his throat like a stone. “But how? I mean… I thought—”
“I know. Me too, but evidently not,” she interrupted, her hands still gripping his shoulders tightly, grounding herself. “But it’s real, and I’m scared.”
He could see the vulnerability in her eyes. He barely knew her, they had just one night that felt more like a passing moment than a connection. The thought of a child—of anything tying them together—was overwhelming. “Why didn’t you—how did you find out?”
“I thought I was sick at first. But when I realized my period was late, I took a test.” She took a deep breath, glancing away as if trying to gather her thoughts.
The impact of her words hit him hard. He briefly considered that she might be lying, attempting to trick him into a false scenario. However, he couldn’t take that chance. She was clearly afraid, and if there was even the slightest possibility of a child being involved, he would stand by her side.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, his mind racing through all the possibilities.
She looked back at him, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe I should tell you, because it’s your baby.” The way she said it—tentative, almost as if she were waiting for him to reject the very idea—pierced him.
“My baby,” he repeated, the gravity of it hitting him like a tidal wave. “I didn’t even know you were and now… I just can’t wrap my head around this.”
“I know,” she replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I didn’t think this would happen. I didn’t plan for it. But here we are.”
He took a step back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process everything. “So what happens now? Do you want me involved? Because I don’t even know how to be a part of this.”
Allison swallowed hard, her expression turning serious. “I’m not asking you to decide anything right now. I’m still trying to figure this out myself.”
The tension in the air felt palpable, stretching between them like a tightrope. Angelo searched for words, something to ease the uncertainty, but nothing came. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, completely unprepared for what lay ahead.
“Okay, but I don’t want to walk away from this. I don’t want to pretend it’s not happening.”
“I don’t want you to walk away either,” she said, her voice firmer now, though he could see the tremor still lurking beneath the surface. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Me neither,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ll figure it out.”
A flicker of hope crossed her face, but it was quickly overshadowed by uncertainty. “I don’t want to trap you in this,” Allison said, her voice breaking. “You deserve to have a choice.”
He stepped closer, trying to reassure her. “You’re not trapping me. This is a choice we both have to make.” Angelo’s heart ached at the thought of her being alone in this. “We don’t have to rush. Let’s take some time to think.”
She nodded, her eyes searching his. “Okay. But I really need your support, Angelo. Whatever that looks like.”
He reached out, brushing his fingers against her arm. “How about we go get a cup of coffee tomorrow morning?” he suggested, trying to keep the tone light while knowing the weight of what it meant.
She blinked, appearing momentarily surprised. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, we can talk more about… all this,” he said, motioning between them. “I think we need to lay everything out, figure out a plan.”
Her expression softened slightly, as if the idea of sharing a simple cup of coffee made the situation feel a little less daunting. “That sounds good. I could use some caffeine. And maybe a pastry.”
“Definitely a pastry. We can’t take on the world on an empty stomach.” He forced a smile, hoping to ease some of the tension that still lingered in the air. Angelo took out his phone. “Give me your number. Pick a place and text me the address.”
Allison hesitated for just a moment, then reached for his phone. “Okay,” she said, tapping her number into his contacts. “I’ll send you the details tonight.”
“Sounds good.” He took a breath, feeling the gravity of the situation settling in again.
They stood there for a moment longer, the reality of the situation hanging between them, but at least now there was a small glimmer of hope—a shared understanding that they would face this uncertain future side by side, one step at a time.