Phoebe squeezes my hand hard as we enter the courtyard where the brunch that is now more likely a lunch is begin held. She knows how much I hate attention. How Alessandro thought this was a good idea is beyond me. And without telling me, too. "Just smile." Phoebe whispers as everyone stops what they're doing and look at us. I think I grimace more than smile as Alessandro stops talking to a man I absolutely don't know and walks over to me with a devilish smile. "Baby, you look beautiful." He bends down to kiss me, and I subtly punch him in the stomach without anybody noticing. "What the fuck is Phoebe talking about some feature in the newspaper!" I whisper through gritted teeth. "I thought I had to lay low!" He has the audacity to look amused. "This way that motherfucker would know that you are mine, that you're pregnant with my babies." Well, if he puts it that way it probably makes sense. "And apparently, I'm the most eligible bachelor in the city. Don't you want people to kno
"You look absolutely beautiful." Phoebe whispers behind me, her face stoic. I look at myself in the full-length mirror and take a deep breath. This is it. I'm getting married. I'm twenty-one, pregnant, and on the verge of making the biggest decision of my life. I don't even feel an ounce of fear. I should, because I'm young and technically inexperienced. Plus, I'm in danger just because I'm with Alessandro. But I'm not scared. I haven't felt so one hundred percent sure about anything before. The flowiness of the dress hides the baby bump that seems to be growing by the day. I'm not scared of that either. My body is a vessel for these boys to come through, and I don't care if it has to stretch to maximum capacity for them. "I'm so proud of you." Phoebe hugs me from behind. I smile at her in the mirror. "For getting knocked up and married?" "No, for being the best fucking person a sister could ever ask for." Tears shine in her eyes. "You are my rock, and I couldn't have asked
I stare up into Alessandro's brown eyes as we lightly sway to slow music underneath thousands of fairy lights. Apparently, the reception is set up exactly as Phoebe planned for the beach house, and she cried tears of joy when she saw all her plans come together. And I have to say that even I like it. The decor is all white, and nothing is over the top, which I appreciate. "You ready to get out of here?" Alessandro kisses my lips lightly, sending tingles down my spine. "You want to fuck your new wife?" I tease with a smile. He smirks. "All night long." "Well, I have to go pee like right now." I disentangle myself from his embrace. "I'll be right back." I wave to T.J. on my way to the restroom, who is dancing with Phoebe with a big smile on his face. Everyone is either smiling or laughing, and I wish that I could bottle that and keep it forever. I stop in my tracks when I open the door of the restroom. There are three large stalls, and right now, there are loud moans coming from
Something about Mattia is nagging at me. I don't know if it's the smug way he looked at me when he emerged from that bathroom or if it's just my sixth sense going into overdrive. And I hate Raquel with a passion. She nearly killed Dario, so that makes her a murderer as much as me. But what the fuck was she thinking sleeping with her fake fiancée's uncle? That's just plain sleazy. And here I thought she was miss prim and proper, but she's just another ho disguised in designer wear and diamonds. And they call me the dirt under their shoes? But this is my wedding night. Although unplanned, I snagged the most eligible bachelor in the city, and I'm not going to let dirty uncles and debutants stand in the way of enjoying the most delicious thing that's ever been on my plate. The waves outside our bedroom crash against rocks in a harmonic melody, perfect for the mood inside the candle lit room. "Mmm." Alessandro traces a finger down my lace clad arm. "How do I get this thing off withou
"There's something about Mattia that is off." I'm spooned in Alessandro's arms, his fingers trailing lazy circles on my stomach. I don't exactly want to discuss his uncle in post coital bliss, but I just can't let go of the nagging feeling that he's here to cause trouble. "That's because Mattia is an asshole." Alessandro sniffs my hair and lays a tender kiss on my bare shoulder. "He has a chip on his shoulder and too much to prove." I turn around to face my husband and trace his thick eyebrow with my index finger. "Why does he have a chip on his shoulder?" Alessandro catches my finger and kisses the palm of my hand, laying it on his chest over his beating heart. "He was never really part of the family. My grandfather had an extra-marital affair with a much younger woman from another city. All he did was throw money at the woman, not exactly being a dad to the guy." "When did he join the mafia?" "Probably in his teens like me. I do think he was a bit disappointed that I took ove
I don't want to leave the island. Leaving means we have to face reality again. Back to Alessandro negotiating the terms of the pharmaceutical company's sale, Mattia plotting whatever the hell he's plotting, and Kaito still on the loose. I hope Alessandro is right, I really hope Kaito sees the newspaper article about the wedding and that he would come to his senses. And then I'm still planning on killing Raquel. I have to wait for the right moment to do that, though. So Alessandro better get the deal, I kill Raquel, and we live happy ever after. "I promise we'll have an extended honeymoon." Alessandro kisses the back of my hand after we take our seats on the private jet. "Preferably when I'm not pregnant and looking like a cow." I scoff. "You're beautiful." My husband smiles that panty-dropping smile that he better only reserves for me. "He wouldn't have married you otherwise." Trey jokes from the seat opposite us. "Still can't believe you're married, man." I narrow my eyes at
I pinch myself for the third time today. How did I get so lucky? All around me, our friends and family are laughing and drinking, and my heart is completely full. The food Alma and I prepared came out excellent, and both Alessandro and Dario thanked us for it. Dario even said it was like having his mother there. I almost cried at that. Stupid hormones. Alessandro has been clinging to me, not that I mind. I'd bake biscotto and tiramisu every single day if I can keep that look of utter adoration in his eyes when he looks at me. "Check it out, my princess!" T.J. rushes up to me and shows me the drone his father helped to assemble. Yeah, I did get him the drone, and Thomas doesn't look very happy about it, but he can stick it. "Wow!" Alessandro exclaims. "That's really cool!" T.J. smiles proudly. "This can be one of my spy devices when I take care of the babies." I smile at that. He's got it in his head that he will become the bodyguard of the triplets. I think it's the cutest t
Alma, the supposed fucking journalist, is more like an assassin than a person who used to write news articles for a living. I'm not really all that surprised because before getting pregnant, Thomas was training me too. The bunker looks like a small apartment, and I follow Phoebe with my eyes, who walks over to the fridge in the small kitchenette. "Are we preparing for a world war or something?" She mumbles as she scours the cabinets, too. The fridge and cabinets are fully stocked. There's another door, and Alma picks T.J. up. "Hey, would you a big boy for mommy and watch some cartoons in the bedroom through there?" I follow behind her, and she opens the door to a bedroom that has six beds in it. This place is prepared! She kisses T.J. and puts headphones over his ears with a tablet that she gets from one of the cabinets. "What the hell is this place?" I ask her as soon as she closes the door. "It's a safe house. There are five more over the city." She goes to sit behind a tiny
I look down at my three babies, where they're all bundled in the same incubator. They were born on thirty-three weeks, but none of them had to be incubated. I'm so proud of them, all of them able to breathe on their own. I was so worried, but they did it. I've never cried so much as I've been crying in the last week. The pediatrician said they should stay in the incubator for at least two weeks, and they were each placed in their own one. But the nurses said when they're apart, they cry, and when they're together, they don't. It's the cutest thing ever. Alessandro can't tell them apart because they look exactly alike. I don't know how, but I know who is who. Their father proudly named them, and right now, Arcangelo's mouth cutely yawns, even though they're sleeping. One week until we can take them home. Right now, they've wearing onesies courtesy of their aunt saying Thing One, Thing Two, and Thing Three. I miss Phoebe in the house, but she has to follow her own path, and she
FARRAH "I'm so sorry, Thomas." My bodyguard is a lone figure at the grave of his wife. "Me too." He says softly with his head bowed. "I was so busy with..." He doesn't complete the sentence, so I take his hand in mine and squeeze his. "It's okay to say it." "I was so busy protecting others, I didn't take care of my own family." He completes the sentence on a sob. "You know that's not true." I tell him. "You were looking after all of us. You just didn't think her past would catch up to you." "But I should have!" He turns guilty eyes to mine where I'm sitting in a wheelchair next to him. "That's what I was trained to do, and I failed my own wife." He's going to feel guilty for a while, probably forever, so I don't say a word. Alma's killer was from a religious society who has been following her and Thomas's lives for a while now. They believe that she betrayed her country and her religion. She would have been stoned to death if she was in her own country. The government has tak
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Trey looks worriedly at me, his eyes darting back and forth in the dark street. "This ends tonight." I go over my body again, making sure for what seems like the hundredth time that I have all my guns and hand grenades in place. It seems like the fuckers are playing right into my hands. Thanks to Enzo's intel, I have the remaining four elders all under one roof in one night. By now, they must know that Fabiono is dead, but they still think I'm inside that jail. They probably know it was me, too, so they're most likely having a meeting to decide what they're doing next. Little do they know, I'm striking while the iron is still hot. Trey shakes his head, his eyes on the surveillance footage on his phone, all courtesy of Evan. Farrah was right, I did orchestrate Evan's bullying so I could be his savior. It was one of the best things I ever did, too, because I now have access to a satellite that gives me vision all over the world. And I have a gre
ALESSANDRO As soon as I stop in front of the quaint cottage, a shot gets fired from me from somewhere in the house, and I duck. I slowly get out of the driver's seat with my hands in the air. If this guy is as dangerous as Thomas said he is, I will be dead in the next second. "My name is Alessandro Moretti, I believe my wife is in there." I shout, hoping they can hear me. I take it as a good sign when I don't get shot at again. The front door opens, and a sight for sore eyes greets me. I run to that door as fast as I can, and then I scoop Farrah in my arms, her smell that is uniquely hers enveloping me. "What the fuck did you do, asshole." She sobs in my neck. "Are you okay? I thought you were in jail." I pull back so I can look at her. There are dark circles under her eyes, and she looks tired, but she's always the best thing I will ever see. "What are you doing on your feet?" I ask her. "You're not supposed to be walking around. You're supposed to be still." She hugs me ag
ALESSANDRO Dario is waiting for me when I walk out of jail the next morning. I don't like the look in his eyes. "What's wrong?" I want to know immediately. He holds the keys to his car out for me, and I grab it. I may be the younger of the two of us, but I've always been the one that was in control. He's never seemed to mind. It's just how our personalities work. "Farrah is gone." The earth drops from beneath my feet for a moment, but I take a deep breath. With Farrah, I've found that there's always an explanation. I get behind the wheel and wait for him to get in beside me. "What happened?" "One of her bodyguards was found with a single stab wound. Luckily, he's not dead." Dario sounds worried. "The hospital's cameras were conveniently out of order for about two hours, but both her and Phoebe are gone. And the other bodyguard." "What about Thomas?" "Still missing." I'm trying to keep my cool, but I bang on the steering wheel. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" Thomas has a few numbers I
FARRAH "Oh my God!" I scream. "T.J!" Damian doesn't even stay at the crash. He just swerves his car and goes around the wreck. "What are you doing?" Kevin shouts at him. "You have to stop, we have to help her!" "Are you okay? "Damian looks at me in the rearview mirror. "I'm fucking fine!" I'm about to lose it. We just left a kid there in a crashed car. "We have to go back and help her." Damian is still calm as he grabs his phone from the console and dials 911. He calmly tells the operator that there was a crash with the address, and then he disconnects before the operator can ask any questions. Phoebe is sobbing next to me, and I feel my own tears wetting my cheeks. We just left Alma there. What if she was badly hurt? Who was that behind the wheel of the truck, and why did he crash into her? The windows weren't even tinted of the car. If they were looking for me, they would've been able to see I wasn't in that car. "The three of you better listen to me and listen to me carefu
FARRAH "Is something going on here that I should know about?" Damian looks accusingly at me in Dr. Sanchez's office. "I've been calling Abe with no luck." Abe is the other bodyguard who's currently on shift. "I think that was my husband's uncle on the way to my room." I gulp, my heart rate skyrocketing. "I'm not sure, but with everything going on with my husband right now, I think he might be trying to hurt me." Hurt is a mild word, but Dr. Sanchez is in the room, and she already looks freaked out. I don't want to worry her any more than she already is. "And you were planning to do what exactly?" Damian wants to know. "I need to get out of here." "Against my advice!" Dr. Sanchez looks at me like I'm crazy. "What if you need blood? You do realize how serious your condition is, right? You are not just risking the lives of the babies, but yours, too." "I'm a sitting duck in the hospital." I shake my head at her. "And if someone kills me, there will be no babies or me anyway. Trus
ALESSANDRO Edward Whittle looks like I'm going to jump him any minute. But like I told him, I'm not here for him. He deserves to go to trial for what he's done, to be torn apart by the public and sentenced. Killing him would be a mercy he doesn't deserve. The asshole starts crying after I don't give him any attention, and I look at him in utter disgust. Those girls in that container were crying, too. I wonder how many girls he's smuggled in containers over the years. What has happened to those girls, were they still alive? Edward Whittle should get life in prison and become the bitch of a thousand men. And even that punishment won't be enough. He follows me around like a little puppy when it's dinner time. The dude jumps at the tiniest noise. That's what you get when you play on the wrong side of the law, and you don't think of the consequences. The inmates seem to know who I am and avoid me, so I get my food that looks like someone puked on it in peace, with my entourage of o
FARRAH "You can't leave the hospital." Phoebe drags both her hands through her hair. "We have to come up with something else. Plus, I think you're being paranoid." I don't know how to explain it to her. All I know is that my gut is never wrong, and I can feel that impending gloom. Nobody is hurting my babies, I would kill them first. Even if I have to do it kicking and bleeding. "I'm not paranoid." I sigh. I wish Alessandro would let me in on his damn plans and stop leaving me blindsided. "Call in one of the bodyguards." Phoebe looks at me skeptically, but do as I ask. The guy is well-built and looks like he belongs on a magazine cover and not outside my hospital room. He nods his head at me. "Mrs. Moretti." I'm still not used to being called that, but I do like the ring to it. "Do you know where Thomas is?" I ask. There's no way he just dropped off the face of the earth. "No ma'am. Thomas just gave us strict instructions that the door should be guarded at all times and that