Page 103 of Beauty and the Daddy

"I was scared." Her voice cracks.

"Scared of what, Belle?" I hiss, still so fucking mad I could punch a hole in the wall.

"Of hoping. Of making it real before I know it's… for certain. I didn't want this—" she gestures helplessly between us, "—to be a reason you kept me."

The notion offends me so fast I taste blood. "As though I wouldn't have kept you anyway?"

Color rises in her throat. "That's not what I meant."

"It's exactly what you meant." My chest is a vise. The truth of it scares me too, because it's realer than anything. Because I would keep her anyway. "You think I need anexcuseto claim you?"

She flinches. "I don't want to be a cage you build for yourself out of guilt, grief, or duty."

"It was never duty."

We stare at each other over the little plastic bomb in my hand. I don't know what to do with the storm inside me, so I do the only thing that doesn't involve breaking something in this room.

I leave.

Son of a bitch. This isn't how I hoped to learn I'm to be a father again. Belle really screwed up and it's impossible to stay mad at her, but right now, I need to clear my head.

I need space.

I walk down the hall, past Bruno curled like a boulder, down the back stairs to the gym. It's empty, thank God. I don't have the patience for small talk or the self-control not to put someone through a wall right now.

I wrap my hands quickly, sloppily, and face the heavy bag, apologizing for the wrath it'll soon face.

First punch: Belle lied.

Second punch: There's a baby.

Third: My brother wants me dead.

Fourth: Elena died because of me.

Fifth: It could happen again.

The sixth punch lands so hard the bag swings wildly. I follow it, striking again and again, letting the pain in my knuckles drown out the chaos in my head.

A baby. My baby. Inside Belle. My Belle.

When did she become mine? When did I start thinking of her that way?

I slam my fist into the bag again, harder, until sweat pours down my face and my lungs burn for air.

Elena's face flashes before me—laughing, alive, before I ruined her. Before loving me got her killed.

Will Belle be next? Will I find her broken and burning because someone wanted to send me a message?

And now there's an innocent life that never asked to be born into this nightmare.

I hit the bag until my arms feel like lead and my brain finally, mercifully, goes quiet. Until there's nothing but the rhythm of impact and breath.

My phone buzzes against my leg. Once. Twice. On the third buzz, I answer with blood on my knuckles and murder in my voice.

"What?"

"Boss, we got a situation." Vito's voice is tight. "That offshore money thing you mentioned? Word's spreading like wildfire. Half the families are calling you a traitor. The other half want your head."