Daniella nods her head eagerly. “It’s so cool. Thanks for bringing me here, Dad.”
God. She’s the spitting image of her mother, with my dark chocolate eyes. It’s crazy how my petite and flowerlike little girl is growing up to be such a beautiful woman.
“What can I get for you both?” A waitress comes up to ask us. She has a 50s hairstyle with cherry red lips, and it even looks like she’s chewing bubble gum. Reminds you of the type of woman who worked at those old drive-ins back in the day.
“Oh, I’d love to try the cherry hibiscus tea I’ve been hearing about.” Daniella spits out her answer, then they both look to me.
“I’ll take a water,”
“A water? No. Get him the same thing, with a bit of honey. Iced please.” Daniella nixes what I’ve asked for, causing me to smile brightly. There’s no doubt about it. She’s her mother’s daughter.
“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.” The waitress tells us, walking away from view.
“You okay, Dad? You seem . . . a bit upset lately.”
“Upset? Me?” I laugh it off, determined to kill any worries she might have.
“Yeah. You’ve been acting weird the last couple weeks. More quiet, less sassy. That sort of thing.”
“Sassy? No. I’m a smartass, sweetheart. I’m not sassy. You’re the sassy one.”
Daniella blinks, leaning back in her chair. “You have no idea how sexist that sounded, and I think it was rude.”
Taking in a deep breath, I run my hand across my head. She’s only twelve and already she’s giving me this much attitude. I’m in for it really bad while she keeps aging. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention.”
Daniella draws her brows together, frowning slightly. “Something is wrong. You’d never apologize so quickly. Usually you make me work for it,” She grabs my hand from across the table and holds it. “What’s wrong, Dad?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, baby. I’ve got it handled.”
Her facial expression doesn’t falter and I now realize I need to be more careful about my demeanor and faking it. Daniella doesn’t need to be so worried about things, or me for that matter. I’m like a damn cockroach. I’ll survive anything, even if it is a broken heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Mircea
Private jets have become one of my favorite creations. You never have to deal with screaming children, sneezing men and women, or the ones who don’t know when to shut their mouths. Living in the lap of luxury will never go out of style.
I sit back on the cream colored leather chair, looking out through the window. Being up here in the clouds has never been more relaxing, knowing all the chaos is down below us and just for a while we won’t have to deal with it.
We’ll be landing in a little less than an hour. The flight has been completely uneventful, which is great for me. Turbulence can be the biggest bitch anyone has ever met. “Did everything go okay for you last night?” Bianca questions from beside me.
The truth is I didn’t spend any time with her. I was too busy trying to get some more information on this Kronid fellow from a man I know well. He’s notorious for finding anything he can about people, but also tracking any sort of footprint they’ve left. Whether it’s a physical one, or an electronic imprint. Within minutes of me being there he found out he goes by an alias and uses that when he communicates with people. Going by the name Kro on the dark web.
Caleb, my friend, was able to confirm Kronid was making some statements on the dark web about being behind a shooting that took place in Germany. It’s not solid proof he was behind what happened to Carla and Philippe, but it really looks like he’s the best bet.
I mean, it would make sense. A son seeking vengeance for his father.
“Yes,” I confirm, not wanting to give her too much information.
“You’ve found out who’s behind it all, haven’t you?”
Inhaling through my nose, I’m not sure what to do. I could tell her now, or I could tell her with her parents. I suppose it doesn’t really matter either way. “Yeah. I was going to tell you when we were with your parents, but now’s as good a time as any. Jonas had a son named Kronid, a boy who was there when you and your mother were captive. It looks like this is some sick sort of revenge.”
“Holy fuck.” Bianca closes her eyes, sitting for a moment before she rises and rushes over to the bathroom.
Sorin glances back from where he sits on the couch a few feet away, eyeing me. “She okay?”
“I think so. She was nauseous on the way in too. How was she last night?” I question, now growing a bit worried.
He shrugs, rubbing his temple. “Mmm, she wasn’t drinking at all. Had a lot of ginger ale and saltines.”
I got in to Sorin’s late last night, around two in the morning, and by that time he was already asleep. As was she. I’m not a genius when it comes to the female body, but given the way she’s been acting the last couple weeks, I’m certain of it.
Bianca comes out from the bathroom and returns to the seat beside me. “How far along are you?”
Her mouth falls open, “I’m not sure. Eight weeks maybe. I haven’t gone to the doctor yet.”
“When did you find out?”
She looks at me, “Last night. There was a small store next to the hotel, so I grabbed a few tests. Are you going to ask me who the father is next?” She laughs at the end, brushing her hand through her long, magenta hair.
“Stefan Dalca is the father.” I say it like a statement, though I’m not certain so it’s a question.
She scoffs, punching me in the shoulder. “You were the fucker who had her following me.”
“You spotted her?”
“She’s Beretta Bosco. How could I not? Nosey prick.”
“I told you I was going to have you, Bianca, and I intend on having you. I’m not a man who bluffs.”
“Even now, you’re so set on it?” She asks, glancing down to her hands that’re now shaking.
“I’m also the type of man who’s firm in my decisions. Plus, you’ve found a way to chip at the edges a bit, breaking through a defense system most haven’t ever been able to.” I admit, reaching out. I place my hand between our legs, waiting to see if she’ll take the olive branch. She stares at my hand for a moment, ultimately lacing her fingers through my own and leans in against me. “This is so fucking messy.”
“I’m certain that’s the most drastic understatement of the century.”
“I’m going to need time to think,” She murmurs quietly, lifting her head up to look into my eyes.
It’s understandable. I’ve made things incredibly hard for her, and this baby only complicate things more. “Try not to take too long, love. I’d hate for you to waste your time with a dying weed when you could have a rose.” I might be partly speaking in metaphors, but Bianca is sure to understand me. She’s a smart woman.
Now I wait and hope she chooses me.
Chapter Eighteen
Bianca
Dropping my keys on the counter in my kitchen, I sigh, relieved to be back here. It might sound weird, only being away for a day . . . but as soon as I arrived in Las Vegas I felt odd.
Not only did it feel wrong going with Mircea, but I felt like I was betraying Stefan even more. Ironic how a trip that was supposed to make me relax a little only ended up making everything worse.
Stefan Dalca has been in my life for years, and I fucked shit up with him. Why? Because new blood came into the picture? Because I wanted to see what it was like to be with another man? Or is it simply because Mircea has been chipping away at me like I have to him? Maybe I’ll never know. All that matters now is making things right.
Fuck. If only it were easy. One thing I’ve learned in this life is how it isn’t easy. Life is fucking hard, the chew you up and spit you out kind of thing.
How am I supposed to make things right with Stefan?
I could grovel, beg for forgiveness. Maybe I’ll drop to my hands and knees, vowing to do wh
atever he wants. I love him too much to lose him.
Wait. Oh my God. I love Stefan Dalca.
I love him and I’ve never even fucking told him!
We’ve been sneaking around for so long that I don’t even think I’ve considered coming out into the public’s view. At first I was worried about the age gap between us, he is two decades my senior. But you’d never know that in bed. I don’t want to hold us back anymore. He told me he would’ve married me if I wanted it, and I believe him. I have no doubts in my mind that Stefan loves me, and now it’s time I tell him how I feel . . . even if I’m more terrified than I’ve been in my entire life.
When it comes down to it, the reason I’m afraid is because one day I’ll be named queen. And when that day comes, I don’t know if I’ll be ready for it. My mother has been training me for it my entire life, and so has my father . . . yet I expect some sort of push back from the Clans. They all know who my biological father is, and I expect a riot to happen, one where they’ll plead with my parents to have Ysenia take the Clans opposed to me. The only person who knows about my biggest fear is the man I’ve hurt more than I should’ve.
I can’t keep doing this.
My small crossbody bag still hangs over my shoulder and I pick up my keys. I need to go. I can’t stay here. Pushing through the door of my apartment, I run down the hallway until I’m at the elevator. Waiting for it feels like watching the hands of a clock moving— slow and yet so agonizing.
The next ten minutes passes by incredibly fast. I’ve run through the streets of New York City as a quick storm comes moving in. What starts out as a slow drizzle turns into a torrential downpour, soaking every bit of me. I just hope my phone is safe in my purse.
I walk to the entrance to Stefan’s building and Jacob, the doorman opens it immediately as he sees me. “Miss Bianca, lord. I can’t believe you got caught in that. Do you want a towel?”
He’s always been so kind to me, and I’m not even one of the residents here. I shake my head, “No, I’m okay. I just need to get up to Stefan’s floor.”
Jacob nods, holding the door open for me. “Sure, you know the way. It’s nice to see you.”
“You too!” I say, jogging over to the elevator.
Stefan’s neighbors give me crass stares when they see me, but I don’t give a fuck. Even bitching them out isn’t tempting in this moment.
The elevator opens and I walk inside, tap the button for the twentieth floor. And again, here I am waiting. The whimsical music floods through my ears, yet I don’t focus on it too much. I’ve come all this way and I have no idea what I’m going to say when I see him.
The elevator opens to his floor and I walk two or three feet before I’m staring at his snow white door. Taking in a deep breath, I gather myself and then push the button on the right hand side of his door.
It opens and Stefan’s curious expression shifts to a shocked one. He blinks a few times, surely figuring out how he should react. “You . . . you’re soaked.”
I nod, “Yeah. I ran through the rain to get here.”
He cocks a brow, “You ran through the rain?” I’m typically the woman who can’t bear the thought of getting her hair wet. So, I imagine this must be amusing him.
“Yeah. I wanted to get here as soon as I got back.” My urgency drove me here, my need to be with him. But not only that, my desire to tell him my feelings forced me. I can’t keep doing this anymore. Fuck, I have to tell him. “I can’t keep doing this, Stefan. I can’t—” Shutting my eyes, I try to keep my tears back, but it’s no use. I open them yet again, ready to see the man I love watch me break apart for him. “I can’t keep hiding what we are. I screwed up, and I did it in one hell of a way. I love you, Stefan, and I’ve loved you for so long.”
Stefan takes a step toward me and wraps his hand around my waist as relief floods over my body. His eyes scan over me seductively, like he has so much to say but can’t seem to find the words. God, being this close to him relaxes me so much. It makes me think everything will be okay.
He covers his lips over mine, taking every worry and fear away with him. The way he’s kissing me sends a wild whirl through my stomach, like butterflies, but so much more dramatic. Fireworks. It’s like fucking fireworks going off.
What started out as surprisingly gentle turns into something punishing, as if he’s showing me with his body how angry and hurt he was by my actions. Yet, I sense forgiveness in the way he’s gentle with me. God, this is so much rolled into one. Stefan pulls away, releasing hot and heavy breaths against my lips.
“I freaking knew you two were dating!” Daniella screeches, causing me to jump.
Stefan immediately turns to face her, “A little warning would’ve been nice.”
“I could say the same thing, you know. Kids don’t really like to see their dad’s tongue shoved down someone’s throat.” Daniella replies with a laugh in a snarky manner.
“Daniella,” Stefan sighs, “Don’t you have homework or something?”
“Okay, okay. I get what you’re saying. I’ll leave you two alone,” Daniella waves at me as she goes down the hallway to her bedroom.
“Are you going to invite me in?” I ask him.
“Yeah, come on.” He replies, holding the door open for me.
I walk into his elegant foyer and he shuts the door behind us, locking it shut. “I’m not just going to forgive you overnight. I hope you know that.”
“I know.”
He leads me into his living room area, taking a seat on his sea green couch. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I . . . I need to tell you something.” No. I don’t need to tell him. I need to fucking show him. I open my purse and pull out the pregnancy test I peed on last night, handing it over. He takes it in his hands and when he reads the screen he smiles, and man, it’s massive. But a few seconds pass us by and it dissipates.
“What do you want to do?” His question seems so simple, and yet it isn’t.
“I want to keep this baby, Stefan.” I half smile, waiting for his reaction.
He sucks his lips in and nods. There’s no doubt I’ve shocked him.
“I want you. I want this baby. I fucking want us, Stefan. I love you so damn much, and I’m so sorry it took me this long to admit that.”
“You’re sure it’s mine . . . I mean, after . . .” His voice shakes, making his fear so obvious.
I take his hand and squeeze, “Stefan. I’m certain. I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I looked on my period app today. I haven’t had a period in over two months. I know this is your baby. I didn’t . . . I didn’t fuck Mircea until after.”
His face flushes with red pigments. He’s angry. “What do you want to do about Mircea?”
“I’ve given it some thought, and I hope you know this isn’t an easy decision for me. But, Stefan, you know me better than anyone else. I’ve never been a conventional woman, and I’ll never be the marrying type. I know my answer might cause me to lose you, but I won’t lie. I love you, more than I’ve loved anyone. And yet at the same time something about Mircea pulls me to him. If you’re open to it, I’d . . . like to be shared, or a throuple . . . or whatever it’s called.”
“A polygamist?”
I nod. Of course he’d have the right word.
Stefan takes his hand from mine and stands, “I need a drink.”
Chapter Nineteen
Stefan
A drink won’t help the things plaguing my mind right now. She’s just told me she’s pregnant and how she loves me. Yet, she wants us both.
What the fuck have I done?
Is this some sort of way to punish me?
No. It couldn’t be. Bianca has never been the type to slowly hurt people. She’d rather rip the bandage off and make it burn then slowly allow it to simmer. I’ve lost so much in my life, and I’ve fought for the rest of what I have. But the one thing I can’t ever bring back, no matter how much I try is Presley.
For so long I thought I’d never fall in lo
ve. How I wouldn’t want another woman in my bed, or in my heart. Then Bianca strolled in and showed me another side of her. I was a bit lenient on the idea since she was the one pursuing me . . . however, I did have worries. Worries which will now come into play.
I somehow made my way over to the bar and poured myself a small serving of whiskey. I down it, simply buying myself a bit of time before she starts digging like the shark she is.
Coming from a man who literally stood by as everything important to him came crashing down, I don’t want her to experience anything close to what I have. I barely survived it, and if it weren’t for Daniella, I would be with my wife. Daniella was the only thing that kept me going.
“Stefan . . . ,” Bianca speaks softly. I’m sure she’s worried. Normally, I’m not such a silent man. I’m the type who tells everyone what he’s thinking, almost immediately. But not when it comes to this.
Turning, I stare at the dripping wet woman before me. “Prinţesă, I will give you whatever you want in this world, even if that means sharing you. I love you too damn much to deny you what you crave.”
Her bottom lip quivers while her eyes widen. “Stefan, don’t feel like you have to tell me this. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
Taking a step closer to her, I touch her chin, holding it between my fingers. “I refuse to lose you. Not after everything we’ve done for each other. We’ll make this work, Bianca. If not for us, for the sake of our child.”
Bianca’s gaze shifts to the floor as she fails in her attempt to hide her tears. I brush my hand against her face, wiping them away. “There’s no need for tears, prinţesă. Go take a warm shower and dry off. Don’t want you getting sick. If you’re feeling up to it we can go for a stroll in Central Park. Daniella’s been nagging me all day.”
“Sure,” she replies sweetly, walking toward my bedroom.
No. Nothing is mine anymore. It’s ours.
Demise (The Clans Book 13) Page 7