Page 63 of Beauty and the Daddy

Sofia grabs my hand, pulling me toward the kitchen.

Just for today, I've dodged a bullet. But I need to get cranking on my next steps.

Tick-tock, Belle. Bomb's gonna blow sooner or later.

Later, when Sofia's at piano class and Luca's out working, I make the call.

"Riverside Women's Clinic," a cheerful voice answers.

My hand trembles around the phone. "Hi, I'd like to make an appointment. It's for... a pregnancy check-up."

"Of course. Name?"

I get an appointment for Thursday at two p.m. Now I just need to figure out how to slip away unnoticed from a house with more security cameras than the Pentagon.

Thursday comes around.I'm halfway out the door with zero goodbyes in sight, making a clean getaway, until Declan materializes like a damn shadow.

"Where you headed?" he drawls.

My brain stalls. Clinic is the wrong answer. Shopping sounds lame. What spills out? "Meeting my father."

Declan's brows hitch. "Funny. Luca didn't mention you were allowed to do that."

Heat climbs my neck. "I'm not Luca's prisoner," I shoot back.

That earns me a slow smile. The kind that says he doesn't buy a word but enjoys the show. "Right. My mistake."

I push past him, out the door, heart jackhammering. Almost free. Almost.

"Mario," Declan calls out from behind me, "take her."

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. I can't be caught heading to the clinic, and a driver ruins my damn plans.

"Oh! I didn't realize I could use the driver. Already called a cab," I babble, tugging at my purse strap from those goddamn nerves.

Declan's eyes glint. He parrots my own words back to me, voice dipped in mockery. "Not a prisoner, remember?"

"Uh-huh." I giggle like a silly little schoolgirl. "You're right. Next time, I'll be sure to use the cars."

And then I skip out before I freeze and let my plans blow into the air.

I sit therein the clinic, scrolling my phone, pretending I'm not about to hurl.

Deep breaths. You've got this. Women do it every day. It's just a check-up. No biggie.

Except for the part where I'm to marry the father in a deal, and heck, he doesn't know what his baby mama's up to.

The ring on my finger feels heavier, accusing me of being a traitor of some kind.

But I can't tell Luca. The second he gets wind of this, he'll either cage me or rush the wedding.

And besides, I know a secret he doesn't. Those men he trusts are out for blood, and they see me as the weapon. I'm only just getting Luca to trust me.

What if he thinks I'm setting up a trap between the baby and what I have to someday tell him about those men he trusts?

The way I see it, this could go down two ways—being treated like glass, or being branded power-hungry.

Neither option screams "fun."