Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
“Mom?” I croak.
A sob escapes her lips. She kisses my fingers and bows her head, pressing my hand against her forehead as she fights for composure.
When she finally looks at me, she makes a visible attempt to stop crying. The effort hardens her face.
If it weren’t for the grip of her fingers that’s so tight around mine it hurts, I would’ve thought I’m paralyzed. Other than the pain where she’s crushing the bones in my fingers together, I don’t feel anything. Yet the panic that suffocates me as my memory returns isn’t because I can’t feel my arms or legs. The anguish is for my baby.
“Mom.”
Speaking hurts so much it’s like grating the inside of my throat with sandpaper.
“Shh, honey.” She brushes away the hair that sticks to my brow. “I’m here.”
“Mom.” I try to close my hand around hers, but my muscles are useless. “I’m pregnant.”
“I know, honey,” she says through her tears. “The baby is fine.”
I let out the breath I was holding, my uncooperative body seeming to sag deeper into the mattress.
“The doctor bandaged your back. As soon as he’s finished all the tests, he’ll turn you onto your stomach to take the pressure—” Her voice breaks. “To take the pressure off the wounds.” She starts crying quietly again. “Oh, honey. I wish you’d told me. We could’ve dealt with it quietly. Nobody needed to have known. There are places I could’ve taken you.”
I try to shake my head, which doesn’t move. Swallowing away the dryness of my mouth, I force the words that sit heavily in my chest into sounds. “I want to keep it.”
Sniffling, she nods. “I understand. I would’ve felt the same.” She hesitates. “Your father won’t allow it, Tiana.”
“I’m keeping it,” I say more forcefully.
She nods again. “You’ll have to leave.” Glancing at the door, she continues in a whisper, “You’re in a private clinic. The staff is discreet, but you never know. I booked you in under a false name.”
Because no one can know that I’m pregnant or what my father did to me. Our family won’t survive the scandal. But she didn’t only hide my identity to protect our reputation. She did it so that my father can’t find me.
She continues in a cautious tone. “If this is truly what you want, you won’t be able to come back. Ever.”
“He’ll fix this. I need my phone. I have to call him.”
“Are you going to tell me who he is?”
I know my mom. I trust her with my life. She’ll never reveal my secret, not even if my father threatens to kill her.
“Dante,” I whisper. “Dante Morici. Please, Mom. Call him. I need him.”
Shock blows her pupils wide. “Oh, Tiana.” She shakes her head. “No. Honey, no. What has he done to you, my poor child?”
Her reaction gets my hackles up, but something like uncertainty stirs in my belly. My mom never lies, she never makes assumptions, and she never overreacts.
My shaky reply is defensive. “He loves me.”
She stares at me with a stricken face, her expression bereft. “He played you.”
I grit my teeth, angry with my mom for even suggesting something like that. “He loves me.”
A regretful sigh leaves her lips. “He used you to get back at your father.”
“He’d never do that.”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t know their history.”
“I love him,” I say louder. “I love him, Mom, and I’ll never stop.”
An air of defeat settles around her as she leans toward me with hunched-over shoulders. “I’ll pack you some clothes.” Her lips tremble. “And some things for the baby. I’ll stop at a store on the way home. I know a place that stays open late.” She stifles a sob with a fist on her mouth, taking a moment before she continues. “I won’t come back here because your father’s men may follow me. It’s not beyond him to give that order once he’s gotten his bearings. I’ll ask Jazz to come by the house later. She can bring the bag tomorrow.”
My stomach bottoms out as her meaning registers. I may never see her again. “Mom.”
My mom straightens and pats my hand. “I’ll go with your father tonight.”
My mom hates those pretentious birthday parties. She never attends them.
I try to hold fast when she lets my hand go. “Mom.”
Fresh tears roll down her cheeks, but her gaze is serene. “You know how your father gets when he’s like this. The bratva will challenge him tonight. If they insult him, he’ll leave.”
“Don’t,” I plead. “Please.”
Her smile is brave, her mind made up. “I know how to handle him. I’ll make sure he stays there until tomorrow. That will give him some time to cool down. Otherwise, he may get it into his head to go looking for you. As long as he’s there, busy with those problems, he won’t think about this.” She caresses my cheek, looking at me as if she’s trying to burn my face into her memory. “I love you, honey.”