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“I know,” I say, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to soothe the headache beginning to creep in. “It’s dangerous, but I couldn’t just leave her there. Nobody deserves to be treated that way by their own father. And besides, it’s my kid. There’s danger in that too.”
“It’s funny,” Mattia says. “I barely see any hint of her father in her. She looks a lot like—”
I cut Mattia off. “Don’t even say it. Aria’s a completely different person and we should treat her like it.”
He decides to take the hint and change the subject. “Look, I don’t know what your plan is here, boss. Once you figure it out, let me know and I’ll be right there to support you. In the meantime, I’ll make sure that the eyes we’ve placed on his house stay there.”
“Thank you,” I say to Mattia. I know that I can always count on him, no matter what.
“I better get out of here. I have some work to do if we wanna make sure that you’re well protected. Speak to you tomorrow,” he says.
I dismiss Mattia and lie back down on the sofa. I already know there’s no way that I’ll get sleep tonight. I need to come up with a plan, and fast.
Chapter 7
Aria
It’sthefourthmorningthat I’ve woken up in Edoardo’s bed. Despite the fact that he’s behaved like nothing but a gentleman, I’m still not sleeping well. I can’t help but feel afraid of him for some reason. After all, hehasspent a significant amount of time in prison. Even so, I don’t have much of a choice. I have no money and little hope of finding a decent job. Staying here is better than burdening Jess, or worse, being out on my own with absolutely nothing.
The last few days have been very difficult. I know that he means well, but I don’t know how involved I'd really like Edoardo to be. I’m stressed out and scared, and it seems that we argue a lot. I’m not sure if it is the combination of the pregnancy and the stress that makes me this way, or if it is just the stress alone. I don’t want to argue with him. I don’t know what his temper is like.
As I walk into the kitchen for a cup of tea, I see that he is already awake. He is out on the balcony doing his daily workout. I must admit, it is my favorite part of the morning. I watch him from inside, where he can’t see me.
I watch as every muscle flexes and strains to complete each routine. It reminds me of what it was like to have him over me and inside me. I don’t watch for too long, because when I do, I feel my heart soften and my temperature rise. The sight of him without his shirt on gets me entirely too flustered.
He is a criminal, and I need to keep my wits about me when he is around. I caught him a little late today, though, and he catches me watching as he finishes his workout.
“Good morning,” he says with a knowing smile as he enters the penthouse again.
“Morning,” I say, doing my best not to blush.
“Did you sleep alright?”
“Yes, thank you. Did you?” I ask.
“I did,” he says with a smile. “That couch was well worth the money.”
He walks right up to me and doesn’t stop until he is an inch away. Then he reaches over me to take a mug from the cupboard above my head. I almost stop breathing entirely when he is this close to me. It’s too much, and so I duck out from behind him and take a seat at the kitchen island.
I can’t help getting the feeling that he is trying to get me to warm up to him. But I simply cannot get past the fact that he is a criminal who spent twenty years in prison.
“Go out for dinner with me tonight,” he says, and I know it isn’t really a question.
“It’s too risky,” I say. “What if one of my father’s men sees us together? He’ll be even angrier, and then none of us are safe.”
“Don’t worry,” he says with a dazzling smile. “We’ll go to one of the restaurants that I own.”
It doesn’t take much to convince me. I haven’t seen the outside world in days and I wouldn’t mind getting out for a bit. A restaurant he owns has to be safer than anywhere else we could go. He’s not my father’s greatest enemy for nothing.
“Alright,” I agree.
The dinner is going smoothly. Our conversations are decent, and he tells me all about what he’s been doing over the last couple of years. I do notice that he hasn’t once mentioned his time spent in prison. Perhaps he assumes that I already know about it.
“You’ve certainly had a far more exciting life than I have,” I say sheepishly. “I’ve hardly ever left home. And if I wasn’t sneaking out, he was sure to have me accompanied by guards.”
I can see his face change into a slight scowl. But before he has the chance to say anything to me, I hear a familiar voice call for me from behind. I instantly feel like I might be ill.
“Aria, what a pleasant surprise bumping into you here,” says a familiar voice. My stomach flips uncomfortably when I look up to see my ex-boyfriend.
