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Fuck this. Her happiness was all that counted anyway.
And if Craig Donnelly needed me to grovel, I would do that, too.
I met his eyes with determination and broke the silence. “I’m sorry for the kidnapping and everything else.” My chest tightened.
Everything else included seducing Sophie, taking her virginity, and not protecting her from becoming pregnant. “But in all honesty, I’m also not.”
Donnelly arched an eyebrow, his expression unchanging.
“I can’t be sorry. Because I truly love her, more than you can imagine. More than I ever thought possible. I promise, her happiness is my top priority—for the rest of my life.”
“Really?” Craig challenged, his voice cold. He scoffed, then folded his arms. “You think being the wife of a fucking Italian gangster is what will make Sophie happy?”
Anger flared inside of me, a raging fire that threatened to swallow me whole.
I clenched my fists, feeling my muscles tensing and my heart pounding. Then I took a deep breath and exhaled longer than the inhale and forced myself to breathe through the fury until I gained back control and could detach from my feelings.
Keeping my outwardly calm composure—cost me a ton of effort.
And he didn’t buy it one second.
This was a test.
I knew it.
He knew it.
And the knowledge helped me to let go and relax.
I knew where he was coming from, and part of me could even empathize.
Fuck, what if our child was a little girl who looked just like Sophie? A little girl—a little angel—and what would I do if she grew up and fell for someone like me—or worse, an Irish mobster?
I shivered at the picture. Fuck me.
Then I shook my head and chuckled.
Karma is a bitch—wasn’t that what people said?
Craig looked at me as if I was a lunatic—and from his perspective, it probably looked like that.
Which sobered me right up.
“Love doesn’t always make sense,” I replied, my voice now low and controlled. “But ours is real, and it’s powerful. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy.”
Craig studied me for a moment, his eyes locked with mine, unwavering.
I met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. I needed him to see my resolve, my dedication to his daughter’s happiness.
Even if it meant swallowing my pride, facing off against her own father, or letting him beat me to a pulp.
Again.
Donnelly glanced over at Sophie, who was still giggling with her sisters. He slumped back in his seat and turned his attention back to me.
“Fine,” he finally said, his voice heavy with resignation. “I haven’t seen her this happy.” He looked at Sophie again. “This carefree, ever since she came back.”
He turned his narrowed gaze back at me. “I don’t like you. And I will never forgive or forget about what happened.” He paused, narrowed his eyes even more, and a small, bitter smile played on his lips. “But punching you unconscious was a pretty good way to express my feelings.”
