Chapter 21
21
Giselle
“D oes it feel real yet?” Eve asked me the next afternoon. All the kids were down for their naps, and we were sitting out by the pool drinking lemonade. Eve had made it extra sweet. She said that it had helped with her morning sickness with the twins.
So far, it did seem to quiet my stomach. And for that, I was grateful.
Carlo, being Carlo, had a doctor come do a house call first thing in the morning. She brought an ultrasound and everything.
And—she confirmed that I was indeed—pregnant.
Six whole weeks.
I took another sip of my sweetly sour drink and smiled. “Not quite yet. I mean, I wasn’t even sure I could get pregnant again.” Of course, Eve already knew that. I’d confided in her a while ago. And when I had, she’d let me cry on her shoulder.
Part of me felt greedy for wanting more children. I had two perfect ones already. A girl. And a boy.
But another part of me wanted to fill Carlo’s house with lots of babies.
And now—it looked like we had a shot at doing that.
Eve grinned over at me. “I’m so freaking happy for you guys.” Her fingers wiped underneath her large sunglasses. I knew those tears were for us.
Happy tears for a change.
“Thanks, Evie. Me too.”
She finished her glass and set it down on the table. “So, what do you want this time? A boy or a girl?” She sniffled and took a deep breath.
I shrugged and tipped back the last few drops of my drink. “A healthy baby.” What I didn’t say was that I also hoped I could carry to term. The doctor had mentioned that with all the surgeries I’d had, a full-term pregnancy might not be possible. And that I was supposed to be careful with lifting things for the first little bit.
She said I could still lift Marcello, but I wasn’t sure she knew how heavy that kid was.
“I’ll hope for a girl for you. Just to give your body a break. If the next one’s a boy, I’m afraid he might be even bigger.”
We both burst out laughing. Because she wasn’t wrong about that. Not at all.
Lumberjack genes seemed to overtake all else. A girl might be smaller—and kinder on my womanly parts.
I stood and gathered our glasses. “Do you want more? I do.”
Eve nodded and sat back in her chair. She crossed her long legs. “I might have a box of chocolate chip cookies hidden on the top shelf of the pantry if you’re interested.”
I gazed at her smiling face and giggled. “Sounds good.”
Then I wandered into the house, closing the door behind me. After I set the glasses down on the counter, I heard a buzzing noise. My phone was outside on the table. Or at least I thought it was. I felt around in my pockets for a second but didn’t find it.
Then my eyes spotted a phone on the coffee table in the living room. From here, it looked like Carlo’s. I hurried to it and picked it up.
My stomach sank when I read the screen. It said, “Stassia calling.”
Ugh.
My eyes stared at the phone, unblinking as it continued to buzz.
I could feel my stomach twist and churn at seeing her name again.
Why the heck was she calling Carlo?
Anger started coursing through my veins and I tried to breathe deeply.
When she finally gave up, I saw on the screen that she’d called him five times already today.
What.
The.
Heck?
Did Stassia really think she could win back Carlo now? After I’d given him a son, and was possibly going to give him another one in less than eight months?
Not to mention the fact that he’d asked me to marry him again.
And if we didn’t have the rather large Sergio complication, Carlo and I would probably be married already.
What the heck was she thinking?
The phone started buzzing in my hand again. It was Stassia.
The more I looked at her name, the angrier I got.
Who the heck did she think she was calling my fiancé? Was she trying to insert herself back into his life again?
Because that was definitely not going to happen.
Ever again.
I could feel myself ready to explode. And the person I wanted to explode on was buzzing in my hand right now.
I didn’t know what made me do it—my rage, or the over-protective pregnancy hormones—but I swiped the screen and said, “Hello, Stassia. How are you?”
There was a short silence before she cleared her throat and asked, “Is Carlo there?”
I smiled wickedly to myself. “He’s not. Can I take a message?”
She sighed loudly into the phone. “Fine. Tell him that the NICU bill is due this week. He still hasn’t paid it. And there’s no way I’m paying for half of that DNA test. He’s the one that wanted it. So, he can pay for it. And tell him that Nicco is running out of formula. I need more. The case that he brought over is almost gone. Oh, and don’t forget diapers. He needs more of those, too.”
I was frozen to the living room floor.
I couldn’t talk.
Or breathe.
Or think.
My mind was racing, but it was also slogging through quicksand at the same time.
What did she say?
And what did she mean?
She couldn’t—
She and Carlo didn’t have—
No.
No.
No.
This couldn’t be happening.
This was not happening.
A shrill baby’s cry sounded in the background. “Shit, he’s up. I have to go. I fired the last nanny he hired. Tell Carlo I need another one as soon as possible.” And with that, she hung up.
I was left standing there. The world around me spinning and twirling, ready to knock me over.
“Oh, my gosh. Are you okay?” I heard Eve’s voice and my head instantly turned to her. She stood in front of the patio doors. “Are you sick?” She started walking toward me.
“Is—” I panted, already out of breath. “Did—” I took a second to collect my words. “Did Stassia have Carlo’s baby?” Just saying it gave me a horrible stomach ache. There was no way in the world this was true. Stassia was obviously lying.
Or maybe I’d heard her wrong.
Maybe I was in the middle of one of my nightmares. That must be what was happening.
None of this was actually happening.
The concerned look on Eve’s face fell.
Like, fell.
And it exposed something horrible.
The truth.
I dropped Carlo’s phone and dashed for the bathroom. I was going to be physically sick.
I heard Eve yell something, but I couldn’t hear what. The blood was rushing through my head so quickly it drowned everything else out.
I barely made it to the toilet.
I’d never cried and vomited at the same time. And I didn’t recommend it.
Huge sobs wracked through my body as I let go of everything in my stomach.
“Christ,” Carlo said behind me. His strong arms wrapped around my torso, and he held me while I finished.
I wanted to push out of his arms, and I also wanted to melt into them.
The emotions rolling through my bodywere fast and out of control.
“Stop, Giselle. You’re fine. Everything’s okay. I’m here.” Carlo lifted me off my knees and into his arms. His big strong arms that were supposed to keep me safe.
Right now, I didn’t feel safe at all.
“Is it true?” I croaked out, choking on my own tears. “Did you get Stassia pregnant? Did she give you a son?” I looked into Carlo’s eyes—and I knew.
I knew it was true.
He’d gotten Stassia pregnant.
And she had his baby.
A son.
“We’ll talk about this upstairs. Give me a minute to get you there.” He whisked me out of the bathroom and through the living room. As we went up the stairs, Eve called out, “I can get the baby when he wakes up.”
Carlo looked down at her and nodded, but didn’t say anything.
A few moments later, we were down the hall and in our room.
Carlo closed the door quietly. Marcello was still sleeping and hopefully would be for a while.
Once Carlo had us settled on the bed, he inhaled deeply. “Stassia didn’t tell me until she was six months along. At first, I didn’t believe her. But after the DNA tests came back, I couldn’t deny it.”
The pain.
Oh, man.
The pain.
Everything in my body hurt from his admissions. There was one more thing I needed to know.
I had to know.
“Did you get her pregnant while I was kidnapped?” I asked, not daring to even breathe. Because I didn’t want to know the answer.
I wasn’t ready to hear the answer, and I never would be.
Carlo moved his head back and glared at me. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His eyes scanned my face for a moment before his tone grew low and deep. “Do you really think I’d fuck her again? And while you were kidnapped by a madman?”
I didn’t answer. Mostly because I really wasn’t sure. Carlo had been intent on having an heir—a son.
“For fuck’s sake, Giselle. You can’t be serious right now?”
My eyes dropped to his chest. “You were fucking Eve the whole time,” I told him something he already knew.
The growl in his chest rumbled deeply inside of his body. “We’ve been over this already. You know what Eve means to me. To us. I’m not going to apologize every day for taking comfort in a woman I love.” He took a deep breath. “Who we love. You know what that meant to me. And what it meant to Eve. Don’t try and twist that shit into something ugly.”
I gazed into his eyes and nodded. He was right. We’d already been over this with a fine-tooth comb. And I wasn’t mad about him being with Eve. Not at all. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. But no, I’m not sure you weren’t with Stassia while I was—gone.”
He shut his eyes and let out a long exhale. When he opened his eyes again, he stared right at me. “I wasn’t with her. I wasn’t near her. I wasn’t anything with that woman. And once I found out she was pregnant—” his head fell forward onto his chest, “I wished it were you instead. You calling me. Telling me that you were pregnant with our son. And I feel like fucking shit about that.” He looked up. “Because Nicco is my son. And I love him, Giselle.”
Those words took all the air out of my body. And the pain he caused by telling me that—was indescribable. It was a sharp, deep stab to my stomach.
Carlo loved his son.
His son that Stassia gave him.
Suddenly, a thought came into my mind. Something that could change everything.
Oh, no.
Carlo was fucking Stassia for a long time before he started fucking me. He was actively trying to get Stassia pregnant. And he had been trying several times a day.
Was Stassia’s son born first?
Was Nicco older than Marcello?
“When—” I tried to ask, but my mouth was so dry. And my throat burned.
“Two days after Marcello was born.”
I needed him to say it again.
“When was he—Nicco—when was he born?” I asked, desperation dripping from my every word.
Carlo grabbed my chin with his fingers and held my gaze with his. “Nicco was born two days after Marcello.”
Relief washed over my body.
“Marcello will be king one day. Our baby will take over for me.”
And even though I didn’t want to imagine a world without Carlo in it—knowing that Marcello would be king—well, for some reason, it made the world stop spinning around me.
I looked over at the crib. I could see our son sleeping soundly in there.
Our son.
The future king.
“It matters to you, doesn’t it? That he’s the one who takes over?” There was a hint of pride in his voice, and I wasn’t sure how that made me feel.
“Yes, it matters. It matters a lot,” I whispered as I kept looking at our son. I wanted him to have everything he deserved. And I didn’t want Stassia’s kid to take anything away from mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me before? About Nicco?” I peered back at Carlo. I already knew the answer. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.
“There wasn’t time when I first found you and Dani. You were already in labor. And that isn’t the kind of thing to bring up when a woman is pushing out your baby into the world. And then I figured you hated me enough when you woke up after your first surgery.”
I nodded and sighed. Wasn’t that the truth? “I hated everyone. Not just you.” I let my hand settle on his cheek as he gave me a sad, concerned look.
“Who does he look like?” I asked, again not really wanting to know the answer.
“He looks like me. So far, anyway.”
There was a long silence after that. My brain was trying to process the impossible. Make sense out of this horrible mash up of pain.
Finally, I pushed up out of Carlo’s arms and sat there. “I’m going to shower before he wakes up.”
Carlo’s hand shot out and grasped onto my arm. “Do you want me to come in and help?” he asked, with no sexual undertones at all. Carlo was genuinely asking if I wanted his assistance. He’d just witnessed me all but losing my mind. Of course, he’d be worried.
But if there was one thing that I’d learned from everything the universe had thrown at me—it was that I could handle it all.
Being Sergio’s wife.
Having him use my body every day for months on end.
Then escaping his clutches and finding a way to look after my unborn daughter and keep her safe.
Then ending up in a relationship with two brothers. A relationship that completely imploded.
And then escaping from Carlo. Being kidnapped by Sergio and having to let him use my body all over again. Just like he’d done all those years ago.
And then finally escaping from him and living in Italy. Surviving there, keeping us hidden and safe from Sergio.
And then Carlo finding us. Watching me give birth to our son and almost die in the process.
But I didn’t die.
I survived.
Just like I survived my anger, and heartache, and depression afterward.
I’d done it.
With help.
But I was still here.
And I’d be here tonight. And tomorrow. And the next day.
With this man. Because I loved him. And he loved me. And we were going to build a big, huge family. I’d see to that.
Stassia could throw whatever she wanted at me. The truth of it was—I’d faced much scarier foes in my life.
I hadn’t fought this hard to be here, only to have Stassia’s bullcrap take me down.
“No, I’m fine. I just feel gross. I need to shower and brush my teeth before he wakes up.”
His eyes scoured my face one more time before he seemed okay to let me go.
Because I was okay.
Or at least I would be. I knew that.