by Sophia Reed
Cradling…
“Are you…”
“Uh huh.” She nodded, taking a tentative step forward. “Turns out the condoms were expired. So… oops.” But I was done being tentative.
I rushed over to her, bent down enough to band my arms around her middle, and swung her in circles as pure unadulterated euphoria raced through my veins. Everything that had been going sideways in my world suddenly righted itself. I put her down, feeling a bit dizzy. I’d never gone from despair to joy without any stops in between, and the sensation was disorienting in the best way possible.
“I thought you were telling me no,” I said in her ear.
“I’m sorry about the suspense,” she said, “but I came too late for them to put me on your flight.”
The marshals had all pulled back to a more discreet distance, present but no longer infringing on our privacy.
“I was so sure you weren’t going to forgive me, that I’d ruined things for good.”
“I did struggle with the decision,” she admitted, “that’s why I was delayed. But you’d already given up one entire family for my sake. It’d be unfair of me to take away the one you didn’t even know you had. Besides, there was one other extenuating circumstance.”
“Beyond this?” I touched her flat belly, staggered not only by her choice to be here but by how thrilled I felt over this unforeseeable surprise. “What’s that?”
“That I never want to be without you again.”
And I kissed her, letting her know we were on the same exact page.
Kelly
Ten Months Later
I looked out our bay window at the craggy iron-gray mountains in the vast distance. California was such a different environment compared to Pennsylvania. The winters were far milder, the summers drier, and the air a bit smoggier, but we learned to call it home.
Maybe because we were there with no one to talk to but each other, we figured out how to work through any difficulties we were experiencing early on. Being shut off from everyone we knew was hard on both of us, and sometimes we struggled with our decision to leave. One bright spot was when we went to Lake Tahoe to elope three months in.
Even if that meant we became Kevin and Rachel Peterson rather than Marco and Kelly Varasso.
It had been a beautiful day in May with the smog-free sky reflecting in the placid waters of the lake. The pine trees and smooth round boulders were a nice contrast to the dry heat of the San Joachim Valley. It felt good to be married, to have committed ourselves to one another, and it made the times ahead easier to face. Especially when I began to have issues carrying our baby.
During my third trimester, and after a nearly perfectly healthy pregnancy up till that point, I started to experience nausea on a regular basis. I reported it to my doctor and discovered I had gestational diabetes. We had difficulty getting my insulin to equal out, and the baby grew so large they scheduled my delivery as a cesarean section.
It probably would’ve been fine if I hadn’t had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia, but I did. I lost consciousness for a few moments, and they had a hard time resuscitating me. This reminded Marco of when his brother’s girlfriend had gone into labor with his niece, dying unexpectedly due to the complication of an unknown heart condition.
And when I woke, for the first and only time in our relationship, Marco burst into tears.
I knew the fact that we had a little girl, just like Luca, only served to reinforce the memory. If I had died, he would’ve had to raise our daughter all by himself, without even his brothers nearby. This close call served to cement our relationship together in a way it hadn’t been before.
We only had one another to depend on, so we didn’t have the luxury of taking each other for granted.
I watched my husband as he went out to collect the mail, our daughter Amanda on one shoulder. We chose that name for a few reasons. One, it meant “one who deserves love” which she definitely did. Two, it fit in well with the names Kevin and Rachel. And three, it had an Italian origin, which was probably the only callback we’d get to make to Marco’s real roots.
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving and many of our neighbors had harvest decorations up. It felt far warmer than November in Philly did, but we were doing our best to start our own unique tradition among the three of us.
“Mommy, you won’t believe what Amanda just did,” my husband said, his features bright and voice pitched high. We’d taken to calling ourselves mommy and daddy instead of stumbling around with Rachel/Kelly and Kevin/Marco all the time. He’d tried wearing a well-trimmed beard to further disguise himself, and it worked so well with his mild-mannered façade that he kept it.
“What’d she do?”
“Smiled. A real one, too.”
“The pediatrician says that’s just gas,” I reminded him, keeping my tone teasing and light.
“That pediatrician is full of sh—” he broke off, censoring himself so the baby wouldn’t pick up any bad habits. “Poopy. It was real, I swear. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Giggling, I followed them back outside, more than happy to humor him. Our neighbors next door had all these whirligigs in their yard, and Amanda loved to stare at them. Marco had already ordered a couple off of Amazon so we’d soon have our own.
“It was just as I passed by this one,” he muttered, concentrating on retracing his steps. He traipsed back and forth by a whirligig that flowed in a rainbow of colors, trying to get our daughter to exhibit the same reaction. It took him about five trips, but then she did it. Our daughter totally smiled, her little lips spanning from ear to ear. “See? Isn’t she cute?”
“More than cute,” I agreed, giving her a nose kiss by nuzzling the tip of her nose with mine. The “isn’t she cute,” “more than cute” game was something we engaged in on a daily basis. Then, I stood on my tiptoes so I could give my husband a much different kind of kiss.
“Why Mrs. Peterson,” he said, his smile going from adorable to predatory. “I do believe you’re flirting with me. Whatever would your husband say?”
“I don’t know,” I turned to go back into the house, glancing over my shoulder coquettishly. We’d been waiting for tonight, the six-week anniversary of Amanda’s birth, to finally be intimate again. I’d been chomping at the bit, and I knew he was, too. We were keeping our daughter as active as possible today, hoping she’d go to sleep early. “Let’s go ask him.”
We went back inside, placed Amanda in her bouncy chair, and kissed again. We couldn’t go very far, not only because she was wide awake, but also because our regularly scheduled call from Ricky had come through. We broke apart, but I could see the disappointment in my husband’s eyes.
“Later,” I mouthed at him as he answered the call.
“How’s everything going?” Marco asked Ricky, and he answered in the code we’d become familiar with.
“On schedule. Looks like the boss will be looking for maximum efficiency.” Translation: Donovan, Dario, and Dante Bianchi had been convicted and were awaiting their sentences.
“How’s everyone doing?” I asked next.
“About the same. They miss you.”
“We miss them, too,” I said, “Tell them Happy Thanksgiving for us.”
“Will do.”
I was so grateful that Marco’s attorney was a family friend. It enabled us to keep in at least vague touch with everyone. They couldn’t ever know our location, and we couldn’t speak in any way but code to Ricky. But hearing that our families were all doing okay was a comfort. For a long time, I worried incessantly about my parents, but a series of amazing things happened after I left.
My dad got a new and much better paying job with retirement benefits. My mom had her surgeries. And my brother stepped up to watch over them. It was a relief to know that even though I wasn’t there, they were all doing well.
Marco disconnected and picked up the mail, sorting through it. Then, he went stock still, frozen from head to toe.
“Is something wrong?” I asked hi
m. In answer, he handed over a postcard. On the front was a photo of Eastern State Penitentiary, a historic prison in Philadelphia which now gave tours and showcased exhibits. There was a postmark from there but no return address or anything else except for three words written in magic marker in all caps.
WATCH YOUR BACK.
A Message To My Readers
Thanks for purchasing this book. As an author, there’s very few things better than having a reader go through one of my works. If you enjoyed Cruel Prince, then I’d appreciate you leaving an honest review on Amazon. Reviews are the lifeblood of my publishing endeavors. A 5 star-review would mean the world to me. Thanks!
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Other Books By The Author
Prequel: Devil´s Pawn
He kidnapped me.
Locked me up in his mansion.
Would it be too crazy to fall in love with this monster?
Luca is the oldest son of a mafia boss.
He’s the sanest one in his family, if you ask me.
His little girl makes him human.
But danger is still his middle name.
I’m drawn to his power.
His devilish gaze that wants every part of me.
He has a dark soul that fills a void in mine.
Reminding me of things that I’m capable of.
After his father’s assassination, Luca is the new king.
And he needs a partner in crime.
A queen.
I’m the woman in his bed. In his heart.
So, what does that make me?
Book One: Fallen Knight
He kidnapped me.
Locked me up in his mansion.
Would it be too crazy to fall in love with this monster?
Luca is the oldest son of a mafia boss.
He’s the sanest one in his family, if you ask me.
His little girl makes him human.
But danger is still his middle name.
I’m drawn to his power.
His devilish gaze that wants every part of me.
He has a dark soul that fills a void in mine.
Reminding me of things that I’m capable of.
After his father’s assassination, Luca is the new king.
And he needs a partner in crime.
A queen.
I’m the woman in his bed. In his heart.
So, what does that make me?
Book Two: Cruel Prince
I gave my innocence to a mafia prince...
But I haven’t told him that I’m carrying his baby.
My life was mundane before I met Marco.
I didn’t know how dangerous he was until it was too late.
He’d already hired me as his assistant.
Marco has my body… and my heart.
He also holds my career in his hands.
The only way out of this is to run for my life.
Even though I know he’d do everything to hunt me down.
Now, I’ve asked for something impossible.
Would he abandon his mafia family to be with me?
And how would he protect me and his unborn baby if our lives were threatened?
