Page 76 of Beauty and the Daddy

I round the table just in time to see Meatball make a break for the doorway. "Cut him off!" I shout, lunging.

Sofia giggles maniacally and tries to head him off, but she slips in the flour and goes sliding across the floor on her butt.

The bodyguard is back on his feet, looking murderous. "Miss Belle, perhaps I should?—"

"We've got this!" I insist, chasing Meatball into the hallway.

Bruno gallops past me, barking joyfully, his tail knocking a vase off a side table. It shatters spectacularly.

"Oops," Sofia whispers behind me.

Meatball, the evil genius, jumps onto the staircase banister and runs along it like a tightrope walker, looking back at us with what I swear is a smirk.

The hunt continues through the living room.

By now we've collected an audience. Two more bodyguards watch from doorways, alarmed yet amused. The house staff peek in from the hallway.

And somehow, in the middle of this tornado of chaos, I'm laughing that kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt and tears stream down your face.

Sofia's the same, doubled over and wheezing. Even Bruno seems to be grinning.

Only Meatball maintains his dignity, walking back to the kitchen and sitting on top of the refrigerator, calmly licking his paw like he didn't just turn the house into a war zone.

"We'll never catch him up there," Sofia says, out of breath.

"That's his victory perch," I agree, leaning against the counter. "We can let him be now. It's safer for us if he's up?—"

The kitchen tilts like a ship in rough seas. Light turns too bright, then too dim, and a rushing sound fills my ears like static. My knees buckle.

I grab the granite counter, knuckles white, waiting for the world to right itself.

"Belle?" Sofia's voice echoes from underwater. "You look funny."

"Just got dizzy," I manage, forcing a smile. "Too much excitement chasing orange tornados."

But my hand drifts instinctively to my stomach, and I know this isn't about excitement at all.

Not now. Please, not now.

"I think the cookies are done," I manage, nodding toward the oven. "Why don't you ask one of these nice gentlemen to help you get them out while I go clean up?"

Without waiting for an answer, I hurry out of the kitchen and down the hall to the nearest bathroom. I barely make it before my knees hit the tile, and I'm heaving into the toilet.

Morning sickness. I sit back on my heels, waiting for the room to stop spinning, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Pull it together, Belle," I whisper.

My hand drifts down to my still-flat stomach. There's nothing to see yet, no outward sign of another life. But I know it's there.

"What are you doing in there, little one?" I whisper softly, pressing my palm against my belly.

16

LUCA

Ithink I stepped out of bed the wrong way, because the morning only gets worse and worse. Coffee's burnt, meetings stack, and Declan's already waiting in my office like a problem tattooed to my life.

"We need to discuss your... situation," Declan says, settling into my office like he owns it.