Page 63 of His Son's Ex

I let the lounge door swing shut behind me. The heat of my rage—along with the swirl of nausea—threatens to choke me.

I stomp back to my office, frustration pounding in my skull. Before I can even settle at my desk, my phone buzzes with a text message from the corporate assistant.

Need you in Dante’s office to clarify the new security measure. ASAP.

My heart does an annoying little flutter at the thought of stepping into his office again.

I gather my files, pressing a hand to my queasy stomach, and head to his office. The moment I step into the hall, I see Linda.

She’s standing just outside Dante’s door, wearing a tailored sheath dress and ridiculously high heels, flipping her shiny, honey-brown hair in a practiced gesture. She’s chatting with Janine, his executive assistant, though chatting might begenerous—it looks more like Linda’s haughtily demanding something while Janine nods stiffly.

I pause, a new wave of nausea taking over. Linda’s visits have grown alarmingly frequent, each one unsettling me more. She casts a glance over her shoulder, and our eyes meet.

A triumphant little smile touches her lips.

I bristle.What is she doing here again?I want to march over to demand answers, but common sense wins out. She’d love the confrontation.Instead, I go around the corner, feigning an important phone call.

From there, I watch Linda sashay into Dante’s office. My stomach clenches.Is she? Are they?I slam the door on that thought. Dante might have ties to Linda as the mother of his son, but I know he can’t stand her. So what is she up to?

I hate how the possibility of her being back in his life makes my chest ache. Like a betrayal I have no right to feel, given I was the one who ended things.

Clutching my files, I stride away, ignoring the staffers who glance at me curiously. My vision blurs with a strong wave of nausea, and I barely make it into a restroom before I’m forced to lean over the sink, sweating and breathing hard.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment as two women from accounting pat my back in concern. I brush them off, offering a strained smile. “Too much stress and not enough sleep. I’m fine.”

Am I?

Because as I splash water on my face, I notice my reflection—pale skin, eyes wide with fear. Something is wrong.My body’s sending me signals I can’t ignore any longer.

The little plastic stick with the digital screen looks harmless enough, but that screen might as well be a crystal ball, showing me a future I never saw coming.

I sit on the edge of the bathtub, heart pounding so hard it drowns out everything else. The instructions were simple enough, but my hands shook the entire time, every step making it more real, more impossible to ignore.

Now, I wait.

As the seconds crawl by, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair’s a mess, my face white as a ghost. The stress, the exhaustion, the heartbreak, it’s all there, plain as day.

A faint beep.

I force myself to look.

A plus sign.

That tiny little symbol hits me like a freight train.

My stomach drops. My throat is dry. I press a shaky hand to my stomach, as if willing it to magically disappear.

I’m pregnant.

A million emotions slam into me all at once—fear, shock, hope, happiness, uncertainty—but mostly, sheer panic. I alwayswanted a family, just not like this. Not when I’m living under a fake name, tangled in secrets that could get me killed.

I pushed Dante away. What now?

My vision blurs, and I tighten my grip on the test, like holding it harder will somehow change the result. What the hell am I supposed to do? Should I tell Dante?

The idea of hiding this from him makes me sick, but the alternative of facing him, telling him he’s about to be a father scares me just as much.

Dante isn’t just ‘some guy.’ He’s Dante Bellacino. Mafia Don. CEO of the company I work for. Father to a grown son, Luca—my ex-boyfriend—who, along with his new wife, is hellbent on making my life miserable. Ex-partner to Linda Patterson, mother of said ex-boyfriend, who would love nothing more than to watch me crash and burn.