Line: Alpha Billionaire Romance

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Line: Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 44

by Colleen Charles


  Calmness on the outside, freak out on the inside. Why couldn’t he leave me the hell alone? Did all women go through this shit with their exes? I could handle an occasional whistle in the street by the local construction crew, but this?

  “I am the cops.” He swaggered closer. I wondered when that card would lose its value since he laid it down every damn time.

  I whipped a rolling pin off the counter and slapped it in my palm a few times, hoping he’d get the message. He stopped swaggering. Was he drunk?

  “Don’t try that with me again. I don’t care if you’re a cop, you’re behaving like a cockroach and I will blacken your entire face if you continue this shit.” I’d get a restraining order tomorrow. Stomp right up the courthouse steps and tell them all about Matthew’s dangerous ways. I should’ve done it ages ago.

  “You couldn’t squash me if you tried. No one would ever believe you,” he said, as if he could read my thoughts by looking at my face. Maybe he could. He was all kinds of insane.

  “Matthew, get the hell out of my bakery. I have nothing more to say to you. We’re so over. We’re afros and mullets over. Do you get that?” I shook my head. “I mean, do you actually comprehend that I do not want you?”

  “I don’t care if you don’t want me. Just as long as he can’t have you.” Matthew paused and fiddled around with his belt.

  “He can have me and will have me, every day for the rest of my life.” I paused and checked my watch. “In fact, he should be back any second.”

  Matthew paled and he touched a hand to his nose.

  “I’m going to tell him you came to see me, and then I’m going to report you to the police,” I said, dotting the side of the rolling pin to the counter. “And if you ever come near me again, I will lop off your dick with my Wedgwood cake knife.”

  “Jesus,” he said, then took a single step back. “You’re the crazy one.”

  “Why? Because I won’t be bullied by you anymore?” I asked, cocking my head to one side. “Get the hell out of my bakery,” I spat.

  Matthew blinked a couple times, and I could make out the humiliation and anger warring in his gaze.

  The bell over the door tinkled again.

  “Bitch!” Faith’s voice traveled through from the front. “I’ll kill you for this.”

  “I think that’s your cue,” I said with a sigh, waving towards the front. “I can only deal with so much crazy in one day, and this one is pregnant on top of that.”

  Matthew’s humiliation won out. He spun on the spot and marched out of the bakery.

  I turned to face Faith. The one person who still had the ability to implode my new found happiness.

  Chapter 49

  Ally

  I followed Matthew’s wake of overpowering Ralph Lauren, dropping the rolling pin in the sink on my path through to the front. The bell tinkled and the door slammed, announcing his departure.

  I sniffed and walked into the front section of my bakery. The counters glistened, reflecting the lights overhead. I blinked in the brightness and allowed my eyes to adjust.

  “How could you do this?” Faith yelled. She leaned heavily on my cupcake counter, a winded ox of a woman. Her fiery hair was a mess, specked with snowflakes and sticking out at odd angles.

  “You don’t look your best,” I remarked. “Can I help you with something?”

  I spied my cell next to the cash register and inched towards it, giving the angry pregnant woman a wide berth.

  “You did this. You ruined everything! The plan was perfect, life would’ve been perfect, but then you came into the picture and fucked it up. You’re a horrid slut.” She words dripped with venom from her viper fangs.

  “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. Do enlighten me,” I said, grasping my cell and unlocking it to dial the cops. She was desperate and desperate women did desperate things. There was no telling how far this one would go.

  I restrained a gasp. Shit, Gabe had called me twice.

  “You told him to get the paternity test. You told him to call off the engagement.” She pointed a finger, tipped in a talon painted magenta. Her stomach strained against the chiffon blouse she’d chosen for the confrontation.

  “I told him to do what was best for everyone involved and get a test done. The engagement was his idea.” She was so angry. It couldn’t be about the empty ring finger on her left hand. Could that mean—?

  “You ruined it. I was going to marry him, give birth to Donny’s baby and we’d be happy. A happy family. Just the four of us.”

  “The four of you?” I mentally gagged at that. Donny’s baby? “Holy shit, Donovan Moreno is the father of your child?”

  Her face went through a dozen emotions before settling back on pissed. “Yes,” she hissed, “and I’m proud of it. This child will inherit the future. I’ll have everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  Except you won’t have Gabe.

  “And you called me a slut,” I said, unable to keep the scorn from my tone. She was an objectionable slime ball and she deserved Donovan Moreno. How could he have done this to his son? He didn’t deserve to be the father of any child. I felt waves of empathy and sadness for the unborn son in Faith’s uterus. That poor kid didn’t even have a chance.

  “It wasn’t my idea to involve Gabe, though honestly, I would’ve welcomed a marriage to him. He’s got the biggest—”

  “That’s enough.” I cut her off before she said something we would both regret.

  “That’s one area where Gabe has his father beat. Hands down. Donovan wanted to trick him into the wedding. He was afraid of what it would mean for the future. But you… you destroyed everything,” she whispered, raising a bloated forefinger again. “Donovan wants to distance himself now. He thinks that his son abandoning me will look better than him marrying his son’s ex-girlfriend.”

  “Pregnant ex-girlfriend,” I added helpfully. “And surrogate daughter. Of his number one business associate.” A smidgen of pity wormed into my chest. She was pregnant and now she felt alone. But she’d worked so hard to destroy my relationship with Gabe for her selfish reasons.

  She’s wretched, I thought, but she can’t help it.

  “What do I do now?” Faith grasped the edge of my glass countertop, visibly shaking, tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. Her mascara ran. She was an ugly crier. “What the fuck do I do now? My father will disown me. I’ll have nowhere to live. My son,” she paused and choked between sobs, “my son won’t have a future.”

  The baby. He was innocent. He hadn’t asked for any of this.

  “Your son doesn’t need to be a billionaire to have a future,” I replied.

  Faith panted, in and out, gripping her forehead and sliding her hand down to cover her eyes. “I can’t do this on my own. I can’t be a single mother.”

  “Hey, look,” I said, gripping my phone and circling to her side of the counter, “it won’t be that bad. You’ll have help. I’m sure your father wouldn’t give up on his legacy. I mean, that’s his grandson.”

  Faith looked up at me, dropping her hand to her distended belly. “He’s kicking,” she whimpered, “hard.”

  “You need to calm down, okay?” I walked closer and she hissed at me. I halted, then cleared my throat. “I know you don’t like me. I’m your worst enemy or whatever, but I’m just trying to help you now. You should sit down.”

  “You? Help me?” Faith pinched her blouse between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it from her skin, then released. “I’m the one who could help you. You’re nothing. You’re just some base chick who bakes for a living.”

  She was overwrought. She needed to calm down, so I couldn’t begrudge her the bitchy comments.

  “You need to sit down, Faith.” I gestured to the same chair she’d graced the first time she’d come here.

  “I don’t need your help,” she replied, but this time it was accompanied with a pained groan. She stumbled. “He’s kicking so hard.”

  “Shit,” I said. T
here was a puddle of water at her feet, spreading beneath the hem of the open trench she’d worn over her jeans.

  “What the fuck?” Faith blinked at it, then doubled over with a cry.

  Just perfect. I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, then raised my cell and dialed 911.

  “You’re in labor,” I said, “I’m calling an ambulance.”

  Faith stumbled to a chair and sat down, gasping and moaning. “He’s just kicking.”

  “Stop being a stubborn fool,” I snapped.

  I stood beside the counter, watching her while I made the call. She panted through the contractions, letting out a low shriek at one point. I hung up a few moments later.

  “The ambulance is on its way and they’ll take you to the hospital. You and the baby will be just fine,” I said, walking up to her. She didn’t lash out — apparently, the pain of labor had overthrown her deep hatred for me.

  Faith snatched at my hand and held it tight. She squeezed through another contraction and I yelped along with her. The woman had the grip of a pro-wrestler.

  “How much longer?” she asked after a few minutes.

  “Soon, Faith. They’ll be here soon.”

  The sound of a siren approached and the ambulance skidded around the corner and came to a halt in front of the bakery a few seconds later. Medics poured out of it. Okay, there were just two, but it was a flood of relief to me. They entered the bakery with a stretcher.

  “She’s over here,” I said. The stress had pushed Faith into early labor, and I couldn’t help feeling guilty about it.

  They helped her onto a stretcher with soothing words and blood pressure checks. It kind of reminded me of the night I’d met Gabe, with the bakery on fire and the ambulance outside.

  I sighed, ready to dust off my hands after a hard day’s work.

  Faith grabbed me by the apron. “Don’t leave me.”

  “W-what?” I stammered.

  “I told you, I don’t have anyone. I need your—” she broke off to swallow her pride this time. “I need your help, Allegra.”

  It was the first time she’d ever called me by my name.

  I looked down at her, covered in sweat, tears streaming down her sticky cheeks. She was at her worst and I wasn’t the kind of person to kick her when she was down. That wasn’t the kind of woman my mother had raised. Regardless of her current residence.

  I patted her arm. “I won’t leave you.”

  Chapter 50

  Gabe

  I was over the shock of discovering the truth about Faith’s pregnancy. Now, I was just worried about Allegra. I’d tried her cell two more times after leaving the Moreno abode — a.k.a. the house of incest and lies. No answer. Where the fuck was she?

  If that Matthew prick had gone near her, I’d rip his testicles off, shove them in his mouth and sew his lips together. Too mafia bad-ass for you? Well, I am Italian. Joe Pesci can just damn well step aside.

  I growled low in my throat as I turned into her street, slid to a stop outside the bakery and looked in. All the lights were off. So were the ones upstairs.

  “You’d better be safe, Allegra.” The street appeared enveloped in darkness and silence, even though it was still relatively early. No shoppers or diners had ventured out, but I had this sick feeling in my gut. I didn’t like this one bit. Hated it really. Allegra had become my everything and she needed to hear the truth from me. Tonight.

  I took out my cell to dial Kelly and check if Allegra had gone to her place for the night. It rang in my hand before I could swipe to unlock. Like she’d been conjured up as a fantasy, Allegra’s beautiful face floated across the screen.

  “Are you okay?” I asked immediately. “I’m at the bakery and you’re not here.”

  “I’m fine, Gabe.” She paused to clear her throat. “As fine as I can be, given the circumstances.” A woman’s scream rang out in the background. It sounded horrible. Like death. Echoing along the line and piercing my eardrum.

  “What’s going on? Where are you?”

  “I’m at Abbott Northwestern Hospital with Faith. She’s gone into labor.”

  My mind boggled. How the hell had that happened?

  “I can smell your brain burning over the phone,” she quipped, “so I’ll make it easy on you, sweetie. She came over to lay down her special kind of pain on me about convincing you to end it with her.”

  “Did she tell you about—?”

  “Your scumbag of a father? Yeah, it came up in the tirade. Anyway, she went into labor during our conversation and I couldn’t leave her alone since your dad decided to toss her aside like trash. What’s the matter with him?”

  Way to go Donovan Moreno. The paternal figure was on a fucking roll today.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I said as I turned the key in the ignition to fire up the engine of my car. It stalled and I pumped the clutch and tried again.

  “I need you to do something first,” Allegra said.

  I revved the engine. “Anything for you.”

  “Call your father and get him to come to the hospital and look after Faith. And his son.”

  “That won’t be easy,” I replied. If he’d disowned Faith too, it was because he was afraid of public fallout. I had firsthand knowledge that he’d stop at nothing to protect his image. Even reject his new son. He wouldn’t be convinced easily.

  “Honestly, Gabe, I don’t care right now. I just want him here. If this had been your baby, I would’ve expected the same thing from you. Get him here. Quickly.” Another mangled death scream from Faith in the background was accompanied by a few choice curse words.

  “I’ll do what I can,” I said.

  Allegra hung up without saying goodbye. That had me worried. Maybe my psycho fuck of a father had convinced her to let go of what we had. I couldn’t blame her if that were true. It was all like some bad Lifetime movie or one of those crazy taboo novels on Amazon in the romance genre. When I’d left her to get my stuff at home, she’d still been a little withdrawn with me, like she was afraid of getting hurt. She didn’t trust me yet.

  I stared at the screen to avoid the dreaded call. I really didn’t want to speak to the old man again.

  The car purred beneath me, the vibrations from the engine running through the seat of my chair and directly into my ass. Days like today make me grateful for the seat warmers.

  I dialed Donovan’s number and pressed the phone to my ear.

  “Donovan Moreno.” The more things changed, the more they stayed the fucking same.

  “Hello there, Mr. Moreno, this is Gabe speaking.”

  “What do you want?” He sighed, and the shuffle of papers came through on the line. Working late while his next son came into the world. Typical.

  “I just thought I’d let you know that Faith has gone into labor. My brother is about to enter this world.” I smacked my lips. “But you’d know that if you gave a shit about anything but yourself and your venal agenda.”

  Donovan gave a sniff, an over-the-phone dismissal. “That’s no longer my concern nor my business. I suggest you stay out of it too.”

  “You realize you can’t just abandon her. She could take you to court. You’d have to pay legal fees.”

  “I’m rich. We’ll settle out of court. I have a cotillion of highly paid attorneys on staff for just this type of mess,” Donovan replied, cool as a fucking cucumber. Jesus, he made my skin crawl. Who could sit and talk about lawyers at a time like this?

  “You’re such a bag of dicks.” I shook my head.

  “If that will be all…” he trailed off, readying himself to hang up the phone.

  “No, that won’t be fucking all.” I inhaled and injected patience into my tone. That simpering patience to be used on toddlers and idiots. “Here’s the thing, Faith is greedy so you’re right, she probably would settle out of court and use vicious sums of money to put the kid through school. Hell, you’ll probably end up giving her half of what you have to keep her quiet.”

  Donovan didn’t reply.r />
  “Which is all right, because you can always make more money, as long as your reputation is intact.” I was going somewhere with this, and it wasn’t a place he’d appreciate. “But your reputation won’t remain intact.”

  “Gabe,” he said, but his warning tone had a bit of a squeak to it. He knew he was in a checkmate situation.

  “So father,” I continued, mocking the title, “either you get your sleazy ass to that hospital and take your place at Faith’s side, or I go to coffee with Tom Lyden and spill the entire story.”

  “I’ll sue you for defamation of character.” Donovan grasped at a straw.

  “Go for it. You can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip. But guess what?” I paused, long enough to build the tension for him. “The damage will already be done. Your reputation will be tarnished and the results of my paternity test will back up my claims.”

  The straw slipped out of Donovan’s hand. He stammered wordlessly, gulped hard. Finally, he croaked, “You wouldn’t do that to me. I’m your father.”

  “You won’t go see your son at the hospital, and you’re his father. Yeah, the whole blood is thicker than water thing won’t work in this situation. Get your fucking ass to Abbott Northwestern Hospital. I’ll see you there.”

  “Gabe, I—” There was an apology in his voice.

  “Save it, asshole. After today, I don’t want to hear from you again. You take that kid and raise it properly, but you don’t come near me again. Got it?”

  “Gabe,” he tried again.

  “Got it?” I repeated, grinding my teeth against each other. I put the car in gear and let down the hand brake.

  “Yes,” he replied finally.

  “Good. If you’re not there in twenty, I’m leaving the hospital and going to the media. Fuck it, I’ll post this shit on Facebook too. Give Jerry Springer a call.”

  Donovan clicked off the line.

  I let out a long, low breath, rolling my head from side-to-side. Allegra had said to get him there and I’d done it. At least, if Donovan didn’t want to be the laughing stock of the society page in the Star Tribune, he’d be at the hospital.

 

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