"When did you do it?" I asked, shaking my head and closing my eyes. I couldn't listen to him rant about how he'd known I would want this. I tried to think of what our relationship was like six weeks ago, but all I could think was that it was different. I fought the relationship at every turn.
"The morning after you first spent the night here, I saw your pills when I went to get your phone. That was when I put it in motion, and I replaced them within a few days."
"That was the first time we had sex," I snorted in disbelief. "You fucked me once and thought it entitles you to knocking me up? What is wrong with you?"
I ran my hands over my face, trying not to see the way his face tightened, that familiar possession running over his features as he stared down at me. He stepped into my space, and I winced at the feeling of his chest touching mine. "You have always been mine," he growled. "I wanted you bound to me in every way. I have done nothing but be clear that I would not lose you this time. I wanted you to be the mother of my children. I knew that in high school! Now, I'm a thirty-year-old man. I made it fucking happen, because I'll be damned if I waited for you to come to your senses. If I'd left you to come to terms with our relationship on your own and hadn't pushed you every step of the way, we'd have been forty before we got married."
I winced, stepping back out of his space and shaking my head. "You're wrong. If I trusted my instincts, we wouldn't have gotten here at all. And all you've done with this is prove those instincts right! I can't trust you, and I won't marry a man I can't trust, Teo," I whispered, moving to slide the ring off my finger.
"Don't you fucking dare," he hissed, making me stop. I turned on a huff, striding through the house to pack a bag. "Ivory!" he yelled, behind me. I passed Scar in the hallway, and he gave me wide eyes at whatever pissed off expression he saw on my face.
"We're leaving in ten minutes," I told him.
"Uh, is that cleared with the boss?"
"Fuck your boss," I spat. "So help me, Paolo, if you don't take me I will make your life a living Hell." I raced up the steps to the master, ignoring the sound of Matteo thundering after me.
"What the Hell are you doing?" he asked, hauling ass into the bedroom behind me as I hauled out my suitcase.
"I'm leaving. I can't do this with you." I tried to focus on the angry. Tried not to break down into tears as his betrayal felt like it stabbed right over the same scar tissue from the last time he'd ruined everything we had.
Sniffling against the tears making my throat ache, I ignored him in favor of shoving random clothes into my suitcase. "You can't leave," he whispered, the first sign of real regret coloring his tone.
"I can't even look at you right now. What you did, I—I don't know if I can ever get over that."
"You don't want the baby?" he whispered.
I spun around, staring him down fiercely. "Of course, I want the baby! I don't want you!"
He flinched, as if those words hurt him as much as I'd intended. But they couldn't because he didn't care what I wanted. "You don't mean that," he murmured, stepping into my space slowly, hesitantly.
"You hurt me," I whispered. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me again."
His face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I just needed you to be mine completely. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Don't go. Just stay, and we can figure it out."
"You have to let me go home. I just want to go home for a while and think things through."
He sighed, nodding reluctantly and pressing his forehead against mine. "Take Scar with you."
"Okay," I whispered, turning and zipping my suitcase hastily.
"Ivory?" he asked when I reached the bedroom door. "I love you, Angel. I love the baby. More than anything else in this world. Take some time, think things through. But you'll come home. I won't accept anything else."
I swallowed, darting out of the room and down the stairs. Somehow, Scar knew I was cleared to leave, and he hustled me to the car where he let me break in silence.
Thirty-One
Ivory
The sound of my doorbell was jarring against the classical music playing in the background.
I hated it, but Sadie had read it was good for the baby.
I fought down the vomit that threatened at the smell of bacon as I made Scar breakfast. I didn't want him to know that cooking has become a chore. That I couldn't even enjoy that anymore, because the smell of food made my stomach roll. I couldn't have him reporting how ill I'd gotten to Matteo.
Despite hiding it, I knew the moment the doorbell rang, knew my time was ending.
The problem was, I was no closer to deciding what to do with myself. No closer to deciding if I'd ever be able to forgive Matteo for what he'd done. My hand rubbed my stomach out of habit, as if the baby could give me all the answers.
It surprised me he'd given me a few days. I didn't know if that was a sign that he was having second thoughts, or if I should look at it as a gift he gave me out of true remorse.
Scar nodded at me when he looked through the hole in the door, confirming what I already knew. I nodded back, even though I knew it was pointless. Scar would always do what Matteo told him to, no matter how I might care for the broody man. He'd quickly joined the ranks of people I love, and it hurt to know that when it was all said and done, I'd always be second to Matteo.
It shouldn't have hurt. He'd been Matteo's first.
But everything hurt.
He opened the door, leveling the man behind it with a glare I didn't expect and standing directly in the way so he couldn't enter. "Are you here to fuck it up again?" I startled, removing the bacon to a paper towel lined plate and turning off the stove in disbelief. I'd never heard Scar talk to Matteo with anything but respect.
"If you're stupid enough to stand between me and my woman, then maybe I need to think about cutting you loose. I don't employ stupid people," Matteo warned, and then his footsteps came into the house and the sound of the door closing followed. I didn't turn around, didn't want to look at him.
I wasn't ready. Not for this.
I still didn't know what I was doing.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, and I heard him tap his fingers on the island behind me.
He was too close, only a couple steps away, and even just the vague sense of him being there was enough to weaken my resolve.
I missed him.
So fucking much I wanted to strangle myself. There had to be something wrong with me. "She throws up about a hundred times a day," Scar answered helpfully, and I winced.
I guessed I wasn't as stealthy as I thought I was.
"Shut up and eat your breakfast," I teased, putting a plate in front of his usual seat at the island. He took it, digging into his eggs with vigor.
"Is that true?" Matteo asked, and I finally had no choice but to face him. The dark circles under his eyes came as a surprise, I'd never seen Matteo look anything other than perfect. It shouldn't have surprised me though, they were flawless copies of mine. The return to not sleeping well had not been kind to me.
"They should rename morning sickness something like all day misery," I answered with a little smile. It never stopped, even as early in the pregnancy as I was. I really hoped that wasn't an indicator of a rough pregnancy.
"Have you been to the doctor? Did they say there was anything they can do?" he asked, and his eyes darted down to my stomach where the island hid it.
"My appointment isn't until next week, but it's normal, Teo," I whispered. "Some women don't have morning sickness at all, and others just get hit hard."
"Come home, Angel." He rounded the island until nothing separate us but a few inches of space. "Let me take care of you. Let Don do the cooking. It can't be helping."
I eyed Scar warily, noticing the tension in his body. I knew it would be easier for him if I returned to the estate, knew he wouldn't be so stressed about making sure I was safe.
I wanted to go home, but how could I just forgive something that was so unforgivable
?
The way he'd broken my trust, it wasn't something I would have tolerated from anyone else. I didn't have the answer to the question that I had to ask myself. Did I love him enough to forgive it?
The thought of a life without him was terrifying, going back to being that void of all the feelings only he gave me. "I am home," I said instead, and watched from the corner of my eye as Scar's entire body locked solid.
"Your home is with me," Matteo scolded, stepping into my space until he wrapped his arms around me.
"I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to forgive you."
"So come home and let me prove to you I'll take care of both of you! Christ, Ivory. I just want to give you the world." He whispered the words, and Scar took that as his sign to abandon his plate in favor of doing a perimeter check.
"I don't want you to take care of me! I never wanted that."
"Then what do you want, Angel? Tell me, and I'll give it to you. I swear!" I almost melted at the desperation in his voice, almost caved into the way he curled into me like the possibility of losing me brought him to his knees.
"I've never chosen you," I whispered, finally feeling like I had the words to explain the conundrum that tore me in two. "Every decision, every step to be together or not be together, you've made it. You decided we were going on a date in high school, and that was that. Then you dumped me, and I had no say in that either. When you claimed me again, you didn't care that I told you I hated you. You didn't give a shit that I was terrified of you and wanted to run for the hills. You pushed and pushed and moved me into your house against my will. And I forgave it," I whispered. "I tolerated it. But now, you took away my right to choose this baby. I'll never have that moment where the man I love tells me he wants to have a baby. I'll never get to make love to you and hope that that was the moment we made a child together. So now what do I have? I'm just a woman living a life that she didn't choose, Matteo! I want to choose you. That's what I want."
He pressed his forehead to mine gently, his face scrunching up in pain. "So I can't pick you up and drag you home?" I chuckled at his attempt at what I assumed was a joke, but I never could tell with Matteo.
"No," I sighed back, letting him press his lips to mine softly. I resisted the urge to lean into him. It conflicted me enough for both of us, the last thing he needed was me showing him just how desperate I was for him.
He nodded, letting his hands touch my belly. "I'll be back to check on you in a couple of days. Call me if you need me for anything." Then with a deep sigh, he turned and strode out of my house. Scar replaced him within minutes.
He went back to eating his eggs even though they were cold. "You okay?" he asked.
"You want fresh eggs?" I asked him, ignoring the million-dollar question that I felt a little closer to answering.
"Nah. These are fine." I shook my head and turned to scrub my pans.
✽✽✽
That cleaning continued. I'd made the switch to all-natural cleaners we picked up at the store when we'd fled Matteo's house. Just enough supplies for us to survive.
And for me to clean relentlessly, if we were being honest. I didn't have enough cookware to go crazy, had no baking dishes to speak of. If I'd thought Matteo wouldn't have had a coronary at the prospect of me bringing more belongings to the home, he didn't want me in, I might have asked for some. But that was not a battle I thought worth fighting.
My thoughts plagued me as I scrubbed, wondering if I would ever really have a choice where Matteo was concerned. Obviously, the choice with the baby was gone. It was coming whether I was ready for it or not.
But if I decided that I didn't want to marry Matteo? Didn't want to raise our child together?
I knew he'd take away my choice again. He made it very clear that he would do whatever it took to have me as his in every sense of the word.
Did it really count as having a choice, if I'd lose the opportunity to choose if I made the wrong decision?
I didn't think so, and that thought plagued me.
Could I raise a child with a mobster? Could I bring up a child in a world as dangerous as the one Matteo inhabited, where I couldn't leave the estate without a bodyguard for safety?
It seemed impossible. It wasn't the life I wanted for my baby, and as much as I might love Matteo, my child's life had to be the most important consideration.
But the only way for the baby to be safe from Matteo's enemies would be to leave Chicago, sever all ties with Matteo permanently. No one could ever know he had a child.
And that made my heart hurt.
Car doors slamming outside made Scar's head snap to attention, and he instantly went alert. "Call Matteo," he ordered as more cars slammed. I grabbed my cell, dialing Matteo quickly as Scar pulled his gun from his holster. My fingers shook, but I dialed him as quickly as possible. "Get down, Ivory." Scar whispered, going to the window to peek outside.
"Angel?" Matteo said over the line.
"Matteo, there are people here—" I started, but Scar snatched the phone.
"Adrian and about a dozen men are outside. Ivory is going out the back," he snapped, handing the phone back to me. "Go, Ivory. Keep your head down but fucking run." Matteo's voice shouted in the phone, but I stared up at Scar in horror.
"I won't leave you!" I protested.
"Yes, you will," he announced, touching a hand to my stomach delicately. "Go, Ivory,” he whispered, shoving me toward the back hall that led to the back of my house. I scurried, keeping my head down so no one would see me through the windows. The phone in my hand echoed with the furious sound of Matteo's voice calling for me, and I brought it up to my ear.
"Teo," I whispered as the first tear fell in my terror.
"Fuck, Cara mia. We're on our way. Just get out of there."
"I love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I whispered as I hit the back door.
"Don't you dare. I love you, Angel. I'm coming for you, and I'm never letting you out of my sight again, you understand me?" The door crashed open, the sound of it carrying through the house. I was out the back door when the sound of yelling carried through it, followed by gunshots. "Fuck! Ivory!" Matteo shouted, but I didn't answer.
With tears streaming down my face, I got to my feet and ran through the yard. "I've got her!" a male voice shouted, and I sobbed.
Weight hit my side, and I went flying and landed sprawled out on my back with my hands curled around my stomach protectively. "Matteo!" I cried, reaching for the phone I dropped.
A male hand reached down, plucking it off the ground and I followed it up to stare into Adrian's crazed, dark eyes. "Goodbye, Matteo." He grinned, dropping the phone to the ground and stomping on it until it crunched, and the call disconnected. I gaped up at him in horror. "Hello, beautiful. Fancy seeing you here." I started to stand, getting to my knees warily and eyeing him.
"Adrian, what are you doing?" I asked, and then he was wrapping a hand around my upper arm and dragging me through the yard. "Help!" I screamed. "Somebody!"
He made no move to stop me. Didn't seem to care that someone would have heard the commotion. He hurried me through the house, because there was one person, I knew he wouldn't want to face.
Matteo.
God, what if I never saw him again?
Bodies scattered my living room, and the sight of Scar lying motionless among them was enough to make me collapse despite his grip on me. I barely touched my fingers to his face, shaking at the sight of all the blood covering his chest. "Scar?" I asked, hoping like Hell he'd wake up and just look at me. "No. No, please," I begged, fighting off Adrian's arms as they wrapped around my waist. "No! Let go of me!" I shouted, twisting to claw at his face. When a nail broke the skin of his cheek, those eyes darkened, and I froze in horror. I didn't even see the fist he aimed for my temple.
All I knew was the sudden explosion of pain.
And then black.
Thirty-Two
Matteo
My blood roared in my ears, drowning out the sounds of Lino s
houting at me from the driver's seat as he navigated through traffic. My men's SUV's surrounded us, racing for the only thing that mattered in my life.
My angel and my unborn child.
In the hands of that mother-fucking sadistic piece of shit.
I should have never allowed her to leave the estate. I should have never touched her.
"Matteo!" Lino shouted, finally drawing my attention away from the dead silence coming through my phone. "Talk to me, man. What's going on?"
"He has her," I answered, feeling a deadly, killing calm settle over me. I knew it wouldn't last, knew that as soon as I saw for myself that Ivory was gone from her house the rage would return.
But until that moment I embraced the monster. Let it take over me as I coordinated with my men.
The second we pulled up in front of Ivory's house, the house I'd left only an hour before, I was out of the car before it even stopped. "Matteo!" Lino shouted, throwing the car into park and following me. I didn't know what he was so worried about, it was obvious that Adrian and his men were gone. Not a single vehicle remained, just random bodies left to rot on Ivory's floor as I threw myself in the open front door.
In the middle of the chaos, Scar laid there—entirely too still. Lino went to him, checking for vitals, but a few of the men went to check the rest of the house. “Ivory!” I yelled, racing for the backyard, unsure if it should relieve me that I didn't find Ivory laying there.
She was alive but being with Adrian was far from a blessing. As soon as he put his hands on her, she'd wish she was dead.
He would hurt her. He would break her.
I couldn't let it happen.
Lino stepped out into the yard, looking around in dismay. "We'll find her," he said.
"She has a tracker," I reminded him, never more grateful that I'd disrespected Ivory's wishes than in that moment. "Get the guys ready."
"Scar's alive," he said, making my head jolt in shock. "Riddled with bullets, but somehow the stubborn fuck is still alive. Bruno and Marino took him to Doc."
Bloodied Hands: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 1) Page 22