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Vicente: As a heart attack.
Gabo: Well, I said I’ll support you, so I will. I got your back. Just send me the details, and Bella and I will be there.
Vicente: Thank you, Gabo. It means more than you know.
After closing the text thread with my brother, I check the one with Camila again. She hasn’t even read my message yet.
Maybe she fell asleep in that chair next to Ava? Or maybe she’s trying to figure out how she feels—about this, aboutme.
I shake my head to push those thoughts away.Thisis exactly why I need to marry her. I need themhere, under my roof, where I can protect them and provide for them.
I put my phone away and head to my home office, determination hardening my resolve.
In seven days, Camila Flores will be my wife, and Ava will have all my protection—and my love.
Nothing—no doubt, no fear, not even her hesitations—will stop me.
Chapter 20
Camila Flores
Last night, I collapsed, exhausted, in the chair next to Ava’s bed. Even though she’s still asleep, there’s more color in her face now.
When the doctor made his rounds this morning, he said we could go home, which I appreciate because we both need to rest.
Yesterday was a whirlwind, to say the least. I got an engagement ring. The nearly had sex with my boss.
Whatthe hell was I thinking letting him get me all hot and bothered and practicallynaked in the office?
That I wanted to climb him like a tree.That’swhat I was thinking.
I smirk at the thought.
But the day took a sharp turn when I went to pick up my daughter with said boss—and fiancé—only to find her bleeding more than the school staff realized. Taking my child to the hospital with Vicente in tow wasn’t in my plans, but I’m grateful he was there.
He was fierce like a knight fighting for her.For us.
I check my phone and spot a missed text from Vicente.
Vicente: Is the duckling asleep?
I smile at his thoughtfulness. I know he really wanted to stay with us last night—I could see it in his eyes. But I needed some time away from him to absorb everything that happened between us.
I decide to call him instead of texting back, even though it’s only seven-thirty in the morning.
The line barely rings before his groggy voice comes through. “Hello? Camila? Is Ava okay?”
His words are thick with sleep, but the concern in his voice is instant.
I can’t help but chuckle. “Yes, she’s fine. Still asleep. I just saw your text and decided to call you instead.”
“I like that. I like hearing your voice,” he murmurs, still low and husky.
I stretch out in the chair and try to get as comfortable as possible. “Is it okay if I take the morning off? I need to take Ava home and make sure she rests.”
I hurry to add, “The doctor said she’s looking better this morning, and the bleeding has stopped. So don’t worry.”
“Actually, Camila, that’s why I texted you last night. I wanted to talk to you.”