Page 24 of Claiming His Baby


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“It was one last night of fun before you got married,” I echo her own words.

“Yeah.”

“Was it? Fun? Did it live up to your expectations?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Heat rises to her cheeks again, letting me know she’s telling the truth.

My chest clenches as I consider my next question. “Would you have run away if you’d known it was me?”

Grace falls silent. She gazes at me from underneath her thick lashes. “I don’t know. That’s not what happened.”

My hands ball into fists as I think about the four years I’ve lost because I didn’t learn the truth about the beautiful woman sitting across the table from me.

She tucks her hair behind her ear, but the wind quickly undoes it. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but . . . how are things between our families after I . . . left?”

“So you really don’t have any contact with your family?”

My dad is convinced the Espositos are lying about not knowing her daughter’s whereabouts. We attended Grace’s funeral, standing around her coffin while he muttered under his breath about fake grief and acting classes.

“No. I’ve been careful.” Grace stares at me and gives me a wry smile. “Not that it does me any good.”

“I won’t lie to you; things aren’t great. My dad doesn’t believe you’re dead. He said your mother was shedding crocodile tears at your funeral. Your family is offended by the implication that they have gone back on their word.”

A frown creases Grace’s forehead. “There was a funeral?”

I laugh. “Oh, yeah. There was nothing in the coffin, of course. But after a few months of the authorities combing the state park, your family assumed you weren’t coming back. Don’t sell yourself short just because I found you. You’re pretty good at being dead.”

Grace smiles, but it quickly fades. “How bad is it?”

“It’s pretty bad,” I say. “We’re back to fighting over territory. Whenever my men see your dad’s men anywhere close to the disputed area, a gun fight breaks out. Much blood has been spilled.”

“And it’s all because of me,” she says softly.

I keep my silence.

Grace is right, of course. If she didn’t run away, things would be a lot more peaceful. She was being a brat, acting selfishly without thinking about all the lives that were depending on her.

At the end of the meal, the restaurant staff pulls the pod back down. After paying the bill, I excuse myself to visit the restrooms while Grace remains seated at the table.

All things considered, the dinner has gone well. I still have another surprise or two up my sleeves. If my plan goes well, the night should end with Grace in my hotel bed. I can’t wait to spread her legs and bury myself balls deep inside her warm, wet pussy.

For four years, my life has revolved around violence and strife. In what little free time I’ve had, I’ve searched for Grace—not just to end the war but also because I haven’t wanted any other woman since that night at the club.

Now that she’s here with me, in the flesh, a part of me that’s been dead for years has come back to life.

It’s hard to walk with my cock straining the zipper of my pants, but I make it back to our pod.

Except, Grace is gone.

Is she in the restrooms?

I grab a waiter. “Did you see the woman who was sitting here before?”

“Yes, Sir. She left in a hurry.”

“You mean left the restaurant?”

“Yes, Sir. That’s correct,” he clarifies.

What the fuck?

I seize my phone on the table and march out. I should check my messages in case she sent me a text explaining why she had to leave.

When my phone flashes on, my blood runs cold.

Fuck.

There’s no text from Grace, but I know why she left. I start running toward my car. If I don’t catch up to her, it’ll be a long, long time until I see her again.

My phone glows with a message from my dad:

Have you found the dead Esposito girl yet?

Grace

“Hey, how was your . . . outing with your . . . special friend?” Lily asks from the living room. Judging by the Sesame Street jingle playing in the background and the weird phrasing of her question, Jack is probably right there with her.

“Mommy!” Jack yells out with excitement, running out to the hallway on his little, unsteady feet.

God, he’s so tiny. As he hugs my legs, guilt clenches my chest at the thought of exposing him to the world I grew up in.

“Hey, Jack. Mommy misses you too.” I ruffle his hair as I smile to hide my distress.

Lily sees it straight away, though. Her face changes the moment she sets her eyes on me. In a hushed tone, she asks, “Ashley, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Glancing at the mirror by the front door, I notice my cheeks are streaked with black mascara. “I can’t talk right now, Lily. I have to go. The taxi’s waiting for me right outside.”

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