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ing cold gel over her lower abdomen.
Amara shook her head, Dante holding her hand. “I’m feeling tired though. I don’t know if it’s everything going on mentally or because of this little one.”
The doctor smiled. “Your body is creating another human being, Amara. It’s taxing. You need to rest more if you feel like it. In fact, I recommend you don’t get yourself in stressful situations given your risky pregnancy.”
Amara nodded and she and Dante both looked at the screen as the wand moved over her skin, the black and white flaring to life.
“Ah, look at that,” the doctor told them. “Do you want to know the gender? I can see it.”
“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Dante asked from her side, rubbing her ring.
“Indeed it is,” the doctor confirmed, pointing to a white shape on the screen. “That’s her right there, nestled in her mother’s womb, all comfortable and safe. And she looks healthy. Congratulations.”
Amara felt her throat lock as emotion clogged her, the reality of the life inside her crashing over her, the reality of the life that should have been there but they’d lost weighing her down. She could feel the same emotions rolling over the man at her side, his fingers flexing against her hand, his eyes surprisingly moist.
“Could you take some pictures please?” Dante asked in a heavy voice.
The older woman nodded. “Sure.”
Dante looked at her, pressing their foreheads together.
One baby there, one baby missing. Amara didn’t think that would ever not hurt.
“How are you dealing with it, Morana?” Amara asked as they talked on video again, her with a hot chocolate in her bedroom and her friend with some wine in the living room.
Morana sighed. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess I’m not thinking about it too much right now. It can be overwhelming, you know?”
Amara nodded. She knew exactly what she meant. “What do I even do? My father ordered my abduction. He killed Dante’s mother. It’s just-I don’t know how to wrap my head around that.”
“I had a great biological father who protected me and died five minutes after I knew him. And the man I thought was my father my whole life hated me for replacing his daughter. I think about her too, you know. The real Morana. If she’s okay. If she’s alive.”
Amara felt her heart clench. “Are there no good fathers alive in our world?”
“Dante will be a good Daddy,” Morana gave a cheeky wink, making Amara sputter.
“So would Tristan,” Amara pointed out.
Morana raised her glass. “To finding good fathers for our kids. We scored in that department.”
They sure did.
Nerea had gone off the radar.
After that weird as hell conversation with her, she had dropped out of the Outfit without giving any reason, and Amara’s suspicions started to solidify. The possibilities of her working with MrX were high, but Amara didn’t understand why she’d spent years trying to bond with her.
After a week though, Morana had come through with his last known location a few miles out of the city, following the breadcrumb Nerea had left knowingly or unknowingly.
Dante had gotten his men together, and Amara had waited the nail-biting hours as he’d returned, telling her they had him.
It was close to midnight and as he got ready to interrogate him, Amara fumed.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m staying behind, Dante,” she told him in no uncertain terms.
Dante just stared at her evenly, not her man but the leader of the Outfit right then. “You being there makes me look weak. You being there would stop me from interrogating him if push came to shove. I’m not going to torture him, Amara, not in front of you, not when it can trigger you, not when you’re high risk.”
Amara took in a deep breath. “I need to see him.”
“And I need to make sure this doesn’t touch you or our baby.”
