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SCARLETT
It’s time to tell Antonio that I’m pregnant. I've reached the six-month mark, and my baby bump is now proudly on display for all to see. Flowy dresses and cozy sweaters used to be my go-to, but now they're no longer viable options.
“Are you sure he has to know? What if we just moved like we talked about before and never tell him?” My whole body trembles with nervous energy as I ask the question.
I don’t even know which one of the guys is the biological father. It could be either one. And how do we explain that to Antonio, who has always been strict and uncompromising?
Thankfully, both men share Italian heritage and dark hair, sparing him from ever finding out, but the whole situation leaves me with a sense of unease. I’m not ashamed to be shared by these two men, so why should anyone else look down on me for it?
“I’m sure, Little Star. We will move, I promise you that, but I haven’t found a house worthy of my loves. Even then, he’d still have to know you’re with child. Is he just supposed to see a baby around and just stay silent?”
I drop my head back, feeling the tension in my neck release as I let out a deep sigh. “I guess, but what if he isn’t happy? Or asks too many questions.”
“I’ll handle him,” Emerson reassures me. “Now, let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads me from our room, Alistair on our heels playing his fake role as my bodyguard.
We step into the dining room and take our seats. Alistair leans casually against the wall, positioned directly behind my chair.
“Son, is it necessary to have the bodyguard on duty if you’re here? We’re simply in our home. Who would dare harm your wife in this place?” With a sharp glare, Antonio directs his question at Alistair.
“Yes. I have my doubts about a few of the staff members around here, and Scarlett prefers to have him around at all times.”
“Scarlett, dear, do you not feel safe in our home? It’s been months, and as far as I know, there have been no issues.” He directs this question to me, and I dig my nails into my palms, preparing myself to reply.
I flash him a quick smile, the corners of my mouth turning upward for just a moment. “You’re correct, there haven’t been any issues. But I’d rather be safe than sorry. Your wife has made it very clear she doesn’t find me worthy of your son. She could try to off and replace me anytime. The bodyguard stays.”
“Son,” he says, his hand hitting the table with a loud thud, causing me to jump. “I like that your woman isn’t scared to speak her mind. If you’re going to take my place as head of this family, she’ll need to be strong.”
Well, that went better than expected, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. We haven't told him the real reason behind requesting this brunch together.
My stomach growls as I reach over my plate, eagerly grabbing sausage, a stack of French toast, and a mound of scrambled eggs, loading up my plate. Without hesitation, I snatch Emerson's plate and repeat my movements, then shift my gaze to Alistair standing behind me. “Are you hungry?”
“No, ma’am. Thank you, though.” He smiles one of his sexy-as-hell smiles, and I swear my panties dampen. Maybe I’m into role-playing and his pretending to be my guard does it for me.
“We do not feed the help at the formal dining table,” Bonnie scoffs, her voice dripping with condescension.
In a quick motion, I turn around, my eyes narrowing as I confront her with a piercing stare. “Do you write his checks? Are you his employer? No, I am, so please refrain from giving me advice on how to handle my staff. If I want to offer him food while he watches over me, I will. I was taught it’s impolite to eat in front of others, but it seems like you have no consideration for manners, do you, Bonnie?”
“You two have lived together for months now and you’re still going at each other like two whores fighting over the same cock,” Antonio grumbles, rolling his eyes.
“I apologize, Antonio,” I tell him, my tone dripping with fake remorse. “But I will not be told what to do when it comes to me and mine.” I fake a sweet smile, but really I want to drown him in the syrup boat. He’s so crass all the time. Comparing his wife and daughter-in-law to whores.
“Enough. Father, we called this brunch for a reason. We have news,” Emerson interrupts. “We’re expecting.”
His father's fork hits the table with a loud clatter, and he grins at us, a smile that is both wicked and strangely pleasant. Bonnie, meanwhile, is slack-jawed and looks like she wants to crawl into a hole and die.
“When will my grandchild be here?” Antonio asks excitedly.
“Next year. March 16th to be exact,” I answer him. It’s a lie, but they don’t need to know that. Many people experience early labor, so there shouldn't be much speculation if our child is born in January on their due date.
“You got pregnant on your honeymoon, then?” Bonnie's lips curl into a sneer.
“Yup.”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Surely you knew by now, considering you're already four months along.”
“A lot of things can go wrong in the first trimester, and we wanted to make sure we had actual news to share. Again, Bonnie, this is our baby, so if we wanted to have some time with just us knowing, that’s our prerogative.”
I’m so sick of this cunt trying to undermine me and act like she is the queen of the castle. She must be one hell of a fuck, because I don’t know how else Antonio could put up with her.
