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SASHA
When I got back to the house last night and Ren wasn’t there, my anxiety shot through the roof. To pass time, I walked to the twenty-four-hour pharmacy a few blocks away for a pregnancy test. I bought eight of them. It was overkill, I know, but I needed to be sure. After the fifth positive test, I came to the conclusion that I am, in fact, pregnant.
This is what I get for being a dirty bitch and announcing Sienna and Matteo’s engagement on social media. Of course, there is a chance I was already pregnant before I did that, but still . . . it was a shitty thing to do, even to her. Karma, motherfuckers! Remember that. Always comes back to bite you in the crotch, and not in a good way.
Ren still wasn’t back when I returned. Being the psycho bitch that I am, I resorted to looking at the Find MyPhone app. I have his device connected to mine. He was somewhere over Georgia at that point, which told me he’d taken a commercial plane home. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. At least he hadn’t gone to look for someone better than me. Lord knows he deserves that, but I’ll never allow that to happen. Kill me first and then I might come back just to fuck that shit up. He’s mine. Even in death, he is mine.
Now we’re going to be parents. I don’t even know how to process that. Only thing I can conclude is that I cannot fuck this up. Dimitri must die sooner rather than later. It’s not just Ren I have to protect now, it’s the life we created as well.
I would have given Ren up if that meant saving him from Dimitri, but that changed when he shocked the hell out of me by declaring I was caring his baby—not that he said those exact words, but not a lie either. My baby deserves Ren more than I do, and if that means I have to permanently destroy the threat, ensuring he or she has that, then a woman has to do what a woman has to do.
I just have to plan how and when. But first, my father owes me an explanation. I’ve spent the entire time I’ve been in love with Ren, believing we didn’t have a future. Now I’m questioning the validity of that very understanding I’ve had for so long.
Did Dad ever outright say the Caputos were our enemy? After thinking long and hard during the plane ride, I don’t know. That conclusion is a hard pill to swallow, and more reason why I need answers from the source.
More of Tony’s guys picked us up from the airport; Paul, I think his name is, but I don’t ask for clarification as I climb out of the back seat of the SUV where he’s parked in Tony’s driveway. I don’t retrieve my bags or Ren’s. Instead, I march up the paved path to the front door and then I walk inside, two missions on my mind: laying eyes on Ren and talking to my father. The former outweighing the latter.
I power walk until I get to the entrance of the living room. When I see Ren, I mentally say fuck it in my head and take off in a sprint until I crash into him, wrapping my arms around him. He doesn’t return the gesture, and when I lean my head back, peeking up at him, his eyes are narrowed as he looks at me as though he’s trying to crack a code to a safe. Maybe he is. Maybe I’m that hard to deal with.
“What the hell happened to you?” Dad’s question is a demand, and it’s then I remember I look like dog shit. I didn’t even attempt makeup. Why the hell bother? That in itself is a cause for concern. My face is rarely bare of makeup, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it this morning. I didn’t get one minute of sleep and didn’t dare look at a mirror after showering sometime in the early morning.
“I did,” Dom chimes from behind me. Dad scowls in his direction. Domenico can eat my ass. I’m still bitter over what happened last night, and I’m mad at Krishna too, even though I’ve come to terms with the fact that I deserved what I got. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it. The fucker broke my pinkie.
“I’m going to assume that was warranted so I don’t shoot you in every spot she has a bruise. Or broken bone,” he bites out, his tone going low and lethal.
“It was, but don’t let that stop you if you think you can, old man.”
“What fucking broken bone?” Ren questions as he pulls himself out of my hold. Flicking his eyes down, he scans me, stopping on my left hand. Ren’s face hardens as his teeth clamp together. The pupils in his dark gaze widen. His ring still rests where I placed it last night, but next to that is a splint I picked up at the pharmacy when I purchased the pregnancy tests.
He sidesteps around me, my body twisting in his direction, watching as he strides toward where Dom is standing in front of the couch. “It’s not a big deal, Ren. It’s done. It’s over,” I say to his back.
Balling his fist, he rears back. We all watch it happen in slow motion, no one moving, not even Domenico. His arm propels, knuckle meeting bone, making Dom fall back against the couch so hard his body pushes the cream-colored furniture backward several inches, maybe even a foot.
“Feel better, little brother?” Dom smirks up at Ren.
“Not even close,” he answers as Domenico licks his lips and moves his jaw from side to side.
“Be glad I didn’t cut it off instead.” Dom’s eyes flicker to mine, and like the brat I know I am, I roll mine in response.
“You try that and you’ll lose your whole fucking arm.” Lorenzo pivots, his angry scowl locking with mine. “And you. When were you planning on telling me you have a goddamn stalker?”
Oh, hell. I roll my head to my dad, throwing ice picks at him from my eyes into his. Humor graces his older face, and if I weren’t so mad at him right now, I’d think it makes him look handsome. For a dad, he’s actually easy on the eyes unless you know the man behind them.
“What stalker?” Krishna chimes in before I open my trap in a way that’s bound to piss my father off.
“Apparently, Dimitri Sokolov. And he’s been doing it for years.” Ren shakes his head, his eyes cutting away from me for a split second. “Fucking years, and you didn’t tell me?”
My phone decides at that moment to chime with an incoming text, but I leave it in my back pocket, not bothering to check it. With my luck, Dimitri would choose now to send me another message telling me all the ways he plans on locking me away for the rest of my life.
“I have my reasons, thank you very much,” I say when he continues to stare at me like he’s expecting a plausible answer. Well, I don’t have one that I’m willing to share. If I told him about Dimitri, he’d storm out of here on a quest to go after him. I can’t allow that to happen. Sokolov is as smart as he is sadistic. I can’t put Ren in that situation. Not when I’ve decided to take care of him myself.
“Fuck your reasons,” my brother spits, pushing off the case opening of the large entrance to the living room. “You don’t get the luxury of keeping something like that from me, Sasha. Why the fuck didn’t you say something when we saw him two weeks ago?”
“You’re seeing him?” Ren adds to the conversation, the accusation clear in his tone.
I drop my crossed arms. “Don’t you dare say it like that, Lorenzo.”
“Like what, wife?” he bites out, his upper lip curving into a snarl.
