My hands are shaking as I look at the screen of my phone. Phoebe is expectantly looking at me, and I jump when it starts ringing again with the same number. I quickly run to the office. I feel like I should do this in private for some reason. I should've done it with Alessandro, but that's not gonna happen. "Hello?" I answer and close the door behind me. "Is this Farrah Simpson?" The distinct voice of Dr.Pesci asks on the other side. I close my eyes and lean against the door. "This is Farrah speaking." "It's Dr. Pesci speaking." He confirms as if I couldn't recognize his voice. It's already embedded in my memory. "Did you get the test results back?" I don't know if I really want to know the answer to that. It changes everything. Would Alessandro even let me go back to classes while I'm pregnant? I would fight him tooth and nail if he said I couldn't. "I did." He answers. "I pushed for the results." I'm sure Alessandro's influence has something to do with it. "What does it sa
I stand in front of the full-length mirror, studying my stomach from all angles. If you're pregnant, you're supposed to look different, right? Or feel different. My stomach is still as flat as it was the day before, and I still have a slight headache, even though I slept like a baby. I don't know how the hell I managed to fall asleep so quickly. There was no further news from Alessandro the night before, Thomas said that might be a good thing. No news is good news. I get dressed quickly before TJ finds me naked. The little rascal takes his job as my knight very seriously. "Ready to kick some ass?" Thomas asks me when I find him in the kitchen. Another thing I learned about my bodyguard is that he really likes cooking. He's always busy cutting something or hovering over a pot or pan. Not that my stomach is complaining. "Do your worst." I mumble. I'm actually not in the mood to kick ass or get my ass kicked, but I asked for this, and it might help Raquel from ending up dead in th
It's been four days with no word from Alessandro, and I'm about to lose my mind. "What if he's hurt and we don't even know?" I ask Thomas, panic threatening to overwhelm me. "Something has to be wrong if he hasn't made contact!" Thomas continues slicing an orange like he doesn't have a care in the world. "He's okay." "But how do you know!" I almost shout, but then my eyes go to TJ, who is playing with a toy car on the ground. "I just know." Thomas goes on calmly. I narrow my eyes at him. "You're keeping something from me." There's no way he can be so calm and unbothered and not know something. "Alessandro has a tracker on him." Thomas nods. "If the tracker stops blinking, that would mean he has no pulse, meaning he's dead." "Is it blinking?" "Last time I checked." "You know, you could've told me this!" I shake my head. "Instead, you're letting me stress, giving me a fucking headache!" He looks up at me, a slight frown in-between his brows. "You've had this headache for almo
"Have you heard anything from Alessandro?" I sound like a broken record, but I don't care. I'm losing my mind, and I'm grasping at anything trying to stay stable. Thomas patiently hands me a bowl of salad. He never complains whenever I ask about Alessandro. He always answers, treating me with kid gloves. This house we're staying in is gorgeous with an absolutely stunning view, but a part of me is missing, and I want it back. I need to feel grounded again. It's been eight days since Alessandro left. I'm wondering what the hell he's doing. Is he out there killing people while I'm losing my mind? Raquel must sense I'm going crazy because she avoids me as much as possible now. I don't think Thomas's assignment is working, I was definitely the wrong person to ask to do it. Phoebe would have been great at it. "No word yet, but he's alive." Thomas gives me the same answer that he's been giving me for the last two days. "Please eat the salad." I'm also tired of fucking eating salads an
"I can't do this anymore." I say softly at the breakfast table three days later. Again, there has been no word from Allesandro. According to his tracker, he's alive, but what if he's also in captivity or something? What if they're beating him up like they did Gabby? Phoebe soothingly rubs my back. "Thomas said he's still alive, sissy, so that's something, right?" "It's nothing!" I throw my fork down on my plate with a koud clatter, and TJ looks at me with wide eyes. "Shit! I'm sorry!" I can't even keep my cool in front of a kid. I might combust completely soon. I don't understand what the holdup is with Alessandro. He found his father, why is he not coming back? "Okay, let's go for a walk." Phoebe gets up and grabs me by the arm. I'm so tired of taking walks too. Every time I lose my cool, Phoebe takes me for a walk like I'm a dog. I'm probably gonna go completely insane if something happens to Alessandro. It's chilly outside, and I stick my hands into the pockets of my hoodie
I can't look as Thomas takes the stitches out from Alessandro's side. He doesn't make a sound, but he's chugging whiskey straight from the bottle. "I don't think alcohol is good for the bleeding." I tell him softly, but he just takes another swig as if he didn't hear me. It kills me to see him like this. I don't have a parent that I give a fuck about, so I can't even comprehend how he must be feeling right now. Thomas discreetly shakes his head at me, so I shut my mouth and clench my hands as Thomas cleans the wound and restitch it. "You have to take some antibiotics to prevent an infection." Thomas tells him and closes the medical kit. "I'll live." Alessandro says as he keeps on drinking the damn whiskey. This is the perfect moment where I tell him that in less than a year, there will be another person that he has to be healthy for. Still, the words don't come out of my mouth, and I can practically feel Thomas's accusing eyes on me. I don't think it's the right time to tell hi
"No chauffeur?" I raise my eyebrows when I spot Alessandro's Mustang parked in front of the beach house. We're finally going home, not that the beach house wasn't beautiful or anything. The reason why we were here was just not great. Maybe we can come back under different circumstances next time. "I felt like driving." He opens the passenger side door for me and waits until I'm seated. I watch him as he walks in front of the car to get to the driver seat, dressed in one of his signature suits. He hasn't smiled, not even once. Apart from fucking and feeding me the whole day yesterday and well into the night, he hasn't shown any emotion other than neediness and anger. I don't know what to do or how to breach the subject about the death of his father. Dario sent me a message to let me know his mother is doing well after they woke her up from the coma. Also, arrangements are being made for her to be transported back. I look back to see the SUV that has Thomas and his family along w
I can't stop looking at Sammy's small bump. She looks absolutely radiant. It seems as if her face and hair are glowing like an angel touched her. Why the hell can't I look like that? I had to wear make-up to cover up the dark circles under my eyes, and even though I've been eating as healthy as ever, it still seems like I'm losing weight instead of gaining. "Do you want a glass of wine?" Trey asks me, the bottle hovering over my glass and I gulp. Shit. "No thanks, Sammy's not drinking, so I'll join her." How much longer will I be able to think of all these damn lies. "Oh, I really don't mind." Sammy smiles, and I wished I could kick her underneath the table. "I'm fine with water, really." I hope my smile comes out genuine and not suspicious looking. "Are you still going to school?"Alessandro's hand tightens on my thigh. I don't want him feeling guilty that I'm not in school right now. The university isn't going anywhere, and I do well enough that there's no way they won't acce
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