Page 103 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

He looks at me, a strange expression on his face. “I doubt that it’s love. I would imagine that it’s much more likely to be a case of lust. My sister was kept hidden away for many years. She met Renzo two years ago when she came to stay with me. When…I tried to get her out of my father’s clutches. She went back.”

“So you think that she and Renzo…”

“I do not like to think about him and my sister at all. I hate the way that my hand is being forced. He’s manipulating me. He knows it all too well.”

“Yes. Well. I am sorry about that.”

“Are you? Are you on my team, Lindsay?”

He’s looking at me with a strange light in his eyes, a burning hunger, almost. As if the answer is important to him. “I’m on this child’s team,” I say. “Which is a strange idea. Because I didn’t think that the child was going to be anything meaningful to me. I didn’t want it to be. But you’re right. The child is mine. That’s something that I thought I could ignore until…” Right then, there’s a movement inside of me. A shift. I’m still naked, standing there just after sex, and now the baby is moving. I’ve never felt so exposed or vulnerable in all my life.

Tears well up in my eyes. “It all feels more real now. And you have to understand, me advocating for us giving the child away is because I want what’s best for the child.” I can’t bring myself to call it our child. I can’t bring myself to make us into the family that will never be.

“It’s admirable.”

But I can see that he doesn’t like my answer.

“What just happened between us has nothing to do with me being on your team or not. I… You know, having addict parents, I’ve always known that I’m at risk. I’ve never thought to myself… I’m above it. I’ve never believed that I was too smart or too aware to become addicted to something. That’s one reason that I’ve stayed away from men. You could become a habit, Ciro, and I don’t have the capacity for that. Everything about this is a mess. Neither you nor I know anything about having a normal life. We don’t understand anything about families, about children. Nothing.”

“I know,” he says.

I don’t know how to do pillow talk. I don’t know what to do with this. It was the single most intense, intimate moment of my life and I feel overwhelmed, and insatiable all at the same time.

I hunt around for my robe, and then I slip it on, trying to combat the weird chill that I feel suddenly. I want him to hold me, this big, hard, tattooed gangster. What the hell is wrong with me?

I look out the window. It’s dark, but I can tell that clouds have moved in to cover the stars and moon, and off in the distance, lightning flashes over the water. I shiver.

“What’s the matter?”

I look at him, surprised that he’s noticed my discomfort. “It looks like there’s going to be a storm.”

“There likely will be. Sudden, intense storms are common here.”

I shiver. “I hate thunderstorms.”

“Why?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Who likes them?”

“A great many people do. It’s a good time to curl up with a book.”

I shake my head. “No. When I was little I would get so scared, and I remember going and looking for my parents and not being able to find them. And then on the first fishing vessel I was on…we had a huge storm while we were out at sea. I actually thought that I was going to die. I thought the ship was going to capsize. It very nearly did.”

“You’re not on a boat here.”

“No. I suppose not.”

I wish I could figure out how to close the strange distance I feel between us now. I don’t know what it is. Maybe the fact that he’s a mafioso, and neither of us knows how to be with people. Maybe his sister. The betrayal of his friend.

Maybe we’re just made wrong.

“I should probably try to get some sleep,” I say. “I’m sure the baby needs rest. Or something.”

He gives me a half smile. “Do you think?”

He’s still naked, the firelight on his inked-up skin making my heart race. I could happily have that man again, but I don’t want to be the one to suggest it.

So I let my excuse be good enough and scurry off to my room. Anxiety is dogging me, and I’m not sure if it’s just the upcoming thunderstorm and my childish fears, or the much more adult peril I feel around the sex we just had.