My thumb hovers over the screen, still sleep-deprived and groggy enough my vision blurs, and it takes my clumsy fingers more than a few tries to punch in my passcode.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The explosive pounding starts up again, this time with a vengeance, so loud, so hard it causes me to jump, nearly dropping my phone to the floor
“Romy! Open the door!” a voice roars from the hallway. A deep, grave, and unmistakable voice. My heart leaps to my throat, completely obliterating any remnants of sleep.Vik.My brain scrambles, trapped in a crossfire of adrenaline andconfusion. My thumbs frantically tap on the screen, finally inputting the pin number to unlock my Alex’s message thread at the exact same time my feet carry me on autopilot to my front door. I throw the heavy deadbolt back, slide the security chain off, twist the handle, and pull open the door just as my eyes finally lock on the very last test Alex fired off ten minutes ago.
Alex: Grumpy Billionaire on the loose and heading your way. I tried to stop him. Godspeed and good luck.
I lower the phone slowly, jaw dropping as I come face-to-face with the man himself. Vik stands in my doorway, and he looks like an absolute madman. His expensive tailored suit jacket is gone, his white dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, and the tie he usually wears with military precision is completely missing. His dark hair is wild, similar to mine, I’m sure, and his eyes—shadowed, fierce, and bloodshot. Eyes that are locked on mine with a possessive intensity that makes my breath hitch. Before I can utter a single syllable, Vik barges past me. He doesn’t ask for permission. He simply uses his massive frame to crowd me into my small entryway. May as well close the door so my neighbors don’t hear what I have to say or, better yet, what he might have to say.
“Vik, what the hell are you doing here?” I gasp, taking a step back with each one he takes my way until my body hits the hallway wall. He doesn’t answer. He brings both of his hands to his dark hair and lets out a harsh, ragged breath similar to a growl. Then he looks at me, his gaze sweeping over what I’m wearing, the shirt hanging off my shoulder, and he does the last thing I thought he’d do: he turns on his heel, giving me his back, and paces.
“You’re not allowed to move,” he orders, voice booming in the quiet of my apartment. He takes three long strides across the living room before spinning around to face me. “Do you hear me, Romy? I won’t have it. I’m not letting you do this.”
“Have you lost your mind?” I stand there gob smacked, my phone still clutched in my hand.
“Have you?” He steps closer, his chest heaving as if he’s run a marathon. “New York? You think you can just pack up your things, accept some job offer, and cross the country without a single word to me? You think you can erase the best months of my life and run away to another city? You’re not doing it, Romy. I’ll double whatever the company offered you. You’re staying here. With me.”
My brain grinds to a screeching halt.New York? Job offer?A sudden flash of clarity hits me when I realize what happened. Alex’s cover story. My brilliant friend mentioned she’d feed Vik the massive lie to buy me time, but instead of him backing off, the lie made him completely unhinged. It drove him straight to my doorstep in a state I’ve never seen before.
“Vik, listen to me...” I start, stepping forward to try and calm him down. Only as I move, my eyes instinctively flicker past his broad shoulder and to the kitchen counter. Fuck. My entire body seizes. There, sitting right next to my keys and the notepad from yesterday, is the glossy, black-and-white printout from my OB appointment. The ultrasound pictures, the tiny, unmistakable peanut-shaped shadow with the medical text printed across the top with my name, the date, due date, and name of the doctor.God, please don’t look,I say the mantra in my head, eyes darting back to his face.Please, just look at me.
Of course, Vik is either too astute, or he caught the sudden, terrified shift in my gaze. He is, after all, a man trained to notice the slightest hesitation in a negotiation, the briefest flicker ofweakness in an opponent’s eyes. He follows my line of sight, his head snapping toward the kitchen counter.
“What is that?” he mutters, his pacing grinding to a halt.
“What’s what?” My voice cracks as I lunge forward to block his path. “Vik, don’t.” But it’s too late. He brushes past me with ease, his long legs eating up the distance to the counter. There, he reaches out, his large, tanned, masculine hand picking up the thermal paper.
He stares down at the printout, and I watch as the furious energy completely drains from his posture, replaced with a rigid stillness. His dark eyes scan the image, tracing the tiny, flickering life caught on the grainy ink and traveling to the bold letters typed across the top.
The paper trembles slightly in his fingers. He doesn’t speak for what feels like an eternity. The clock on the wall ticks loudly, counting the seconds as the truth finally unravels. Vik turns his head, gaze lifting from the paper to meet mine. The fierce angry billionaire who moments ago barged into my apartment is gone. In his place is a man looking at me with a profound mix of awe, shock, and vulnerability.
“Romy, you’re pregnant.” He swallows hard, voice dropping into a rough, barely audible whisper in the quiet of the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
vik
The sonogram picture slips from my fingers, fluttering to the kitchen counter with a soft whisper.Harbor View Obstetrics & Gynecology. Patient: Rosemary Laurent. 8 weeks.I close my eyes, my chest tightens, and the breath leaves my lungs. In the sudden darkness behind my lids, the world tilts on its axis. Everything clicks, every agonizing question that’s kept me awake, every bitter sip of vodka, every ounce of resentment I’ve been harboring against her silence disappears. The reason she ended things. The reason she packed her bags, figuratively and literally, staying away from Sterling Capital. It wasn’t because she didn’t want me in her life. It was because of me and my stupid fucking rules, rigid boundaries, and my own damn mouth. The whole time we were together, I told her how my life is perfectly compartmentalized, how I’m a man of logic, and how having a family is something I have zero interest in ever entertaining. I’ve built an empire to protect myself from the chaos of the world, and in doing so, I built a cage that drove the only woman I’ve ever wanted right out of the door when she needed me the most.
The silence stretches between us, and a kaleidoscope of images suddenly explodes through my mind, blinding me witha vividness of beauty. All I see is Romy, not exhausted like the woman standing in front of me right now, but a version of her months from now, her beautiful body becoming rounder, heavier, and bursting with the life we created together. I see her face flushed with sweat and agony, pushing through childbirth, her fingers digging into my hand until she nearly breaks it. I see her quiet, peaceful, holding a tiny bundle of joy against her bare chest in a dimly lit room, looking down at our baby. A soft, fierce maternal love coming from Romy, gifting it to our child.
Then the kaleidoscope shifts further into the sunshine, this time at a park. A wide stretch of green grass under a blue sky, and a little child runs ahead of us, tiny legs moving as fast as possible, laughter echoing on the wind. Our child has Romy’s wild energy, golden-blonde hair flying behind him, and my mischievous grin.
It’ll be a little boy. I’m sure of it.
My chaotic brain remembers a conversation over drinks with the guys months ago. Rafe looked at me with that quiet certainty of a man who knows the mysteries of the universe and mentioned something about reproduction.The man decides the sex of the baby, Vik. Something about the biology, the timing. If she orgasms first, it’ll be a boy. If you get yours first, chances are it’s a girl.I’d scoffed at him at the time, telling him I didn’t give a damn about the science of making babies because I wasn’t ever going to make one.
Then I remember the night with Romy, the one where the condom broke. I told her, and she told me to keep going, that she was on birth control. I pulled out, tore off the damn thing, and kept fucking my cock into her wet pussy. I made sure she got hers first, having to hold back after taking her bare. It was the best goddamn feeling ever, and watching her come, breathless and shaking beneath me, it got me off.
Even if the theory is wrong and we have a little girl, It’ll be sweet as hell. The thought should fucking terrify me. And apparently, not only did the condom fail, but Romy’s birth control did as well.
My own childhood was shit, the reason behind not wanting children in the first place. My father is a monster, a man who used his fists to teach a lesson, beating me black and blue in the basement of a house that was meant to be a home. My mother, while taking the brunt of what she could, also never left. It wasn’t until I grew taller and gained more muscle that dear old dad quit beating on me, probably because he knew if I got my hands on him, he’d be dead. I spent my entire adult life vowing that the bloodline would stop with me.
Until now.
I don’t want to be my father. Shit, I’ll die before I even raise a hand to a child of Romy’s, or any for that fucking matter. I want this. God help me, I want it all. I open my eyes, the vulnerability of the past fading and allowing my natural instinct to take over. I straighten my shoulders and move toward her.
