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His phone rings on the floor beside us, making our eyes dart down toward it. Shaw lets out a groan of annoyance when the wordGatehousedances along the screen. No doubt thinking it’s my brother. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that Luca would walk straight into the house; he certainly wouldn’t be announced at the gatehouse.
Shaw presses the answer button. “Yeah.”
“Sir. I’m sorry to bother you, but we have a Miss Elizabeth Wright here. She’s in distress. Should I call Mr. Varros to deal with her?”
Shaw’s body freezes below me, no doubt realizing if my brother finds out Lizzie has called upon the house, he’d order her to be killed.
I move to climb off Shaw’s lap, but he holds me there with panic in his eyes.
“Sir?”
I swallow back the lump in my throat, cursing myself as I say the words, but I do it for him. “Let her up. Shaw will deal with her.”
Relief floods not just his face but his body too as he relaxes below me. This time, when I climb from him, he doesn’t stop me, and that lack of reassurance hurts more than ever.
“I’ll give you both some privacy. But she’s not a guest, Shaw.” I give him a pointed look. I refuse to have another woman in my home. He can be amicable in the foyer.
He jumps to his feet, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’ll get rid of her, Emi. I’ll be quick, I promise. You won’t regret it.” He throws the door open, leaving me standing in the baby’s nursery, his words ringing out that I won’t regret it, but truth be told, I already do.
SHAW
I practically throw myself down the stairs, relief and anger warring within me. If Emi hadn’t taken pity on Lizzie, there’s no doubt in my mind she’d be dead. My wife is caring and compassionate, something else I love about her.
But still unable to tell her.
The door to the house opens, and I stare in shock at the woman before me. She’s not manicured as I know her, she’s not put together, she’s destroyed, and panic and guilt flood me. “Jesus, Lizzie. Are you okay?”
Her eyes meet mine and they’re broken. We might not have had the best of relationships, but I don’t deny I had feelings of some sort toward her, and seeing her like this is like a knife through my heart and another stark reminder of my mom.
“I’m not okay.” She shakes her head, her hair covering her face, making me wonder if someone hurt her.Was it Luca?My spine straightens.If he broke our promise, I’ll kill him my fucking self.
I tuck her hair behind her ear and use my fingers to lift her chin and face me. Her face is clear of makeup, something I never remember seeing before now. It gives her a softer look, but at the same time, the makeup enhances her better features. She needs it as a mask, whereas Emi is completely natural and beautiful without all the crap.
“What happened?” I keep my voice low. I don’t trust the staff that work here; after all, they are Luca’s, and I refuse to give the asshole reason to shoot Lizzie.
“I’m pregnant.” She moves her coat aside, revealing a small bump, and I feel like my whole world is crashing down on me. The air is sucked from my lungs, my legs shake with a combination of shock and fear, and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces, because how the hell am I meant to handle this?
I stare at her in utter disbelief, numb as my mind swirls so fast I can’t think straight.
When her cold hand rests on top of mine, I realize we’re touching the bump of our baby, and I force my eyes closed, willing it not to be real.
This is bad. So fucking bad.
I jump back as though electrocuted; the only bump I’m used to feeling is my wife’s. I scrub an uncomfortable hand through my hair.
“I’m scared, Shaw.”
I stare back at the woman in front of me, then down at her bump. “I’ve nowhere to go.” Her eyes dart around the mansion, and panic builds up inside me.Does she think she can stay here? Fuck no.
“You can’t stay here, Liz.” Her bottom lip trembles, and I lower my head to reassure her. “It’s not fucking safe.”
I pull out my phone and call Owen, knowing without having to even ask that the line will be secure.
“Owen. I need help.”
“What the fuck is it?” He groans, and I imagine him rolling over. Either he drank himself to sleep or he has a woman in bed with him. Either way, he’s using it as a distraction for the real issue, Laya.
“Lizzie.”
