23. Contessa
Contessa
The mornings after Matteo fucks me senseless are always my favorite kind of morning—the kind where my body hums with satisfaction and my brain operates at maximum efficiency.
I’m sitting at my desk in the office Matteo designed for me, answering emails with the kind of focus that only comes after three consecutive orgasms before breakfast.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call, and my stomach drops when I see the name on the screen. It’s my dad.
Fuck.
I haven’t been avoiding him exactly, but I haven’t been truthful either. The baby isn’t going away and I know I have to tell him soon. But how the hell do you tell your father that his best friend knocked you up? I wonder if I can totally bypass that little detail for, like, fucking ever.
I take a deep breath and answer. “Hey, Dad.”
“Coco.” His voice is warm and familiar. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“I’m good,” I say, spinning in my chair to face the window. “Just working on some stuff for a launch next week.”
“I still can’t believe my little girl is running her own company.” There’s pride in his voice that makes my chest ache. “Your mother would be so proud.”
I swallow hard. “Thanks, Dad. How are you? How’s Kat doing?”
“Kat’s great. Absolutely thriving as a mom. Little Sofia is keeping us up all night, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Sofia—my baby sister. Born nine months ago, the product of my father’s second marriage to a woman only a year older than me. Kat’s postpartum experience and the new baby have been the perfect distraction, keeping Dad’s attention focused elsewhere while my belly grows.
“That’s great, Dad. Give them both hugs from me.”
“I will. Hey, I was thinking—it’s been too long since we’ve had dinner. Are you free this weekend?”
My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, feeling the baby kick beneath my palm. “Uh, this weekend might be tough. I’ve got a lot going on with the launch.”
“Come on, Tessa. You’ve been blowing me off for months. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” I lie, my voice too bright. “I’m just busy. You know how startups are.”
“Too busy for your old man?” There’s a teasing note in his voice, but I can hear the hurt underneath.
I close my eyes, guilt washing over me. “Of course not. I just…have a lot on my plate right now.”
“Is everything okay? You’ve been different lately.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Different how?”
“I don’t know. Distant. Secretive.” He pauses. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
The baby kicks again, harder this time, as if reminding me of its presence. I stare out the window at the city skyline, wondering how I got myself into this mess.
“I’m just stressed about work,” I say, which isn’t entirely a lie. “The launch is a big deal for me.”
“I get it, honey. But family is important too. Maybe Kat and I can come to your place this time? Bring Sofia to you. That way you don’t have to come to us, and I know Kat would love getting out of town.”
“Actually, I’ve been staying at a friend’s place while some renovations are happening at my apartment,” I say, another half-truth. “The place is a mess right now.”
“A friend’s place?” His tone shifts slightly. “Which friend?”
I freeze, panic rising in my throat. “Just Natalia.”
“Oh, good.” He seems to accept this. “Well, maybe we can meet somewhere. Your choice.”
“Sure, Dad. That sounds good.” I’m buying time, and we both know it.
“Contessa.” His voice drops as he uses my full name like he used to as a kid that would have me confessing everything. “You know you can tell me anything, right? No matter what it is.”
My eyes sting with tears. “I know, Dad.”
“Good. Because I’ve got this feeling...” He trails off. “Never mind. I’m just being paranoid. Kat says I worry too much in my old, grumpy ass age.”
“Kat’s right,” I say, forcing a laugh. “You always worry too much.”
“Maybe. Or maybe my instincts are telling me something’s up.” There’s a long pause. “You’re not in any trouble, are you?”
I press my hand harder against my belly. “No trouble, Dad. I promise.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “Well, call me when you’re free for dinner. Kat and Sofia miss you.”
“I miss them too. Give them both a kiss from me.”
“Will do. Love you, Coco.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
I hang up and drop my phone on the desk like it’s burned me. My hands are shaking; my heart is racing. I need to tell him. Soon. But how do I explain that I’m carrying his best friend’s baby? That Matteo has been fucking me for months, claiming me, making me his in every way possible?
The door to my office opens and Matteo steps in, two mugs of coffee in his hands. His eyes immediately find mine, reading my expression.
“Who was that?” he asks, setting one mug on my desk.
“My dad.” I take the coffee, inhaling the rich aroma even if it is decaf. “He wants to have dinner.”
Matteo’s jaw tightens, but his voice remains even. “And what did you tell him?”
“That I’m busy with work.” I take a sip, avoiding his gaze.
He leans against my desk, arms crossed over his chest. “You can’t avoid him forever, Contessa.”
“I know that,” I snap, then immediately regret it. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m not ready.”
“He’s going to find out eventually.” His voice is gentle but firm. “Better it comes from you than someone else.”
I set my coffee down and turn to face him fully.
“And what exactly am I supposed to say? ‘Hey Dad, remember your best friend Matteo? The one who’s been like an uncle to me my whole life? Yeah, well, he’s been fucking me raw for months and now I’m six months pregnant with his baby. Pass the potato salad?’”
Matteo’s lips twitch with amusement. “Maybe not exactly like that.”
“This isn’t funny, Matteo.” I stand up, pacing the length of the office. “He’s going to lose his shit. He might never speak to me again. He might actually kill you.”
“He won’t.” Matteo catches my arm as I pass, pulling me against his chest. “Conrad loves you too much for that.”
“But he’ll hate you,” I whisper against his shirt. “And I can’t stand the thought of you two not being friends anymore.”
His arms tighten around me. “We’ll figure it out, stellina. Together.”
I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his scent. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “But I got you. Let me worry about Conrad; I have in fact known him longer than you.”
The baby kicks as if agreeing. I take Matteo’s hand and place it on my belly, where our child is making its presence known.
“Feel that?” I ask softly.
He nods, his eyes darkening with a possessive look I’ve come to know so well. “Strong, just like his father.”
“Or his mother,” I counter, smiling despite myself.
Matteo drops to his knees in front of me, his hands framing my belly. He presses his lips to the curve, murmuring something in Italian that I can’t quite catch.
“What did you say?” I ask, running my fingers through his hair.
He looks up at me, his expression raw with emotion. “That I’ll protect you both. No matter what.”
My heart swells with something that feels terrifyingly close to love. “You can’t protect us from everything, Matteo.”
“Watch me,” he says, and there’s no teasing in his voice. Only absolute certainty.
I pull him to his feet and kiss him, pouring all my fear, hope, and confusion into it. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his.
“I’ll call him back,” I say. “Set up dinner for next weekend.”
He nods, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” I shake my head. “I need to tell him alone first. Then you can come.”
His jaw tightens, but he nods. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” I take a deep breath. “But after I tell him, I’m going to need you. Probably for a very long time.”
Matteo’s smile is slow and devastating. “You’ll have me, Contessa. For as long as you need.”
“Forever, then,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
His eyes flash with something fierce and hungry. “As if any other answer would have sufficed.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands sliding down to cup my ass. I melt against him, all thoughts of my father and difficult conversations temporarily forgotten.
When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. “Now, where were we before your father interrupted?”
I glance at my desk, where my laptop sits open to a half-answered email. “I should probably finish these—”
Matteo silences me with another kiss, his hand sliding under my shirt to palm my breast. “They can wait.”
And just like that, I’m lost again—swept up in the storm that is Matteo Marino, helpless to resist the pull between us even when I know it might destroy everything else in my life.
As he lifts me onto the desk, scattering papers and knocking my mug to the floor, I can’t bring myself to care about anything except the feel of his hands on my skin and the promise of forever in his eyes.
Tomorrow, I’ll call my father. Tomorrow, I’ll face the consequences of falling for the one man I should have stayed away from.
But today, I’m going to let Matteo remind me exactly why I can’t.