Page 11 of Malicious Marriage (Mafia Lords of Sin #9)

DEAN

“ W here is she?” My hands land on the desk, making the nurse on the other side jump out of her skin.

“Excuse me, sir. Lower your tone!”

“I’m sorry,” I gasp, breathless from the sprint down the hall. “I’m sorry. I was told that Trisha Wilcox had been brought in. Problems with the baby? My baby? Are they okay?”

The nurse’s expression softens and she smiles slightly. “I understand, Mr. Wilcox. Come with me.”

I don’t bother correcting her. Ideally, I’d never lay eyes on Trisha for the rest of my life, but unfortunately, she’s carrying my baby, and a child is a commitment I will honor even if the pregnancy was a complete accident.

In the moments hurrying down the hall, however, all the hatred I have for that terrible woman is on pause.

The child she carries, my child, is the only reason we’re even still in contact.

I’ve done my best to distance myself from her and her toxic ways, but something about the baby just keeps dragging me back.

I don’t allow myself to entertain the idea of being a father because I know I’ll easily be sucked into playing family with her.

But the sudden prospect of trouble with the child and the terrified voice in my mind taunting me with a possible loss are sobering.

My hatred for her can be shelved for now until I know what’s wrong.

“In here, sir. Your wife is resting.” The nurse ushers me into a softly lit room where Trisha rests back against countless pillows with one hand over her swollen belly. Her eyes snap to me immediately and fat tears well in her eyes.

“Dean!”

“Trisha.” Rushing to her side, I instinctively take her hand while scanning the machines and her belly for a clue as to what is going on. “What’s happened? What’s wrong with the baby?”

“Oh, Dean!” The tears fall and Trish dissolves into deep, open-mouthed sobs as she clutches at my arm. The pain in her tears is gut-wrenching and my heart sinks down into the dark pit forming in my stomach.

Oh, no .

Please… no .

“Trisha?” Cupping her wet face, I tip her head up to try and encourage her to look in my eyes. “Please, tell me what’s happened? What’s wrong with our baby?”

Is it alive ?

That question blares in my mind like a siren as a strange, painful static sensation floods my ribs. It’s like I already know the answer deep in my soul and the world around me grows a shade darker.

“It’s too painful.” She gasps, clawing at my arm. For a moment, I see the woman I first fell in love with. The bright spirit with an insane sense of humor and bucketloads of kindness. Now she rests against me, sobbing her heart out, and warmth stings behind my eyes.

I should have been faster. I should have gotten here sooner, should have run faster up the stairs or something . I should have been better?—

“Your baby is fine.” The nurse stands in the doorway with a very confused expression on her face. “Mr. Wilcox, your child is completely fine. Your wife came in with terrible pain and cramping but it was just trapped gas. Mother and baby are fine.”

Trapped… gas?

The static beneath my ribs sinks south as a pull of nausea warms my gut. Trisha’s grip on my arm tightens as I wrench my arm away from her, and all the cold hatred I was holding at bay with the fear that my baby was dead comes flooding to the forefront.

“You fucking bitch .”

Trisha lifts her head. A wide grin is plastered across her face as she sniffles and dries her tears. “You should have seen your face!”

“Get out,” I bark at the nurse who remains in the doorway, wide-eyed as if she can’t believe what she just witnessed. At my bark, she immediately makes herself scarce and the door closes.

“Gas? You have fucking trapped gas? You let me think?—”

“What?” Trisha snorts with laughter while wiping her cheeks and settling back. “I never said anything. You assumed .”

“You called Don and told him the baby was in fucking danger, that you were bleeding and being rushed here!”

“I had to add a little flair, otherwise you wouldn’t have come.”

“I came because I thought my baby was dying!” Despite my best efforts, I yell at Trisha with all my anger, then I step back to catch my breath and retreat as far away from her bed as I can.

I’m not a yeller. I’m not an angry man. But she constantly plays these games that make me feel like I’m going insane.

“Our baby.” Trisha sniffs. “Or have you forgotten how I got into this fucking mess?” She slumps back against the pillows and slides her hands over the bump. “Are you considering it?”

“Considering what?” I ask through gritted teeth as I wrestle with the complicated rush of emotions in my chest. Anger collides with confused grief and pain, as well as guilt at falling for her display.

“Doing away with me like your brother did with his ex? Runs in the family, so honestly, I’m surprised you even came. You could have let nature take its course and then you wouldn’t have to murder me.”

I shove one hand into my pants pocket and grip my wallet so tightly that the zipper slices into my palm. “I’m leaving.”

“No, Dean, wait!” She surges up from the pillows. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought it would be funny. Lighten you up a bit.”

“Which part?” I growl between gritted teeth. “Letting me think my baby is dead or throwing that disgusting rumor in my face?”

“Is it really a rumor?” She tilts her head and touches her finger to her lower lip. “She was pregnant. She died. Your brother died trying to kill her… seems like fact to me.”

“Just because you keep repeating it doesn’t make it true.”

“Everyone at that dinner party seemed to agree with me.” She smirks coldly as I recall the last dinner we shared, where I quietly told her we were over.

She responded by standing up and telling all our guests, respected heads of multiple families, that she feared I would kill her like my brother killed his girlfriend because we as a family are baby killers.

“They didn’t agree. They were in shock at your insanity.”

“Hormones.” She smirks again.

If those words came from anyone else, I would have them in the ground by now, but I know Trisha’s game.

She’s been trying to push my buttons ever since I dumped her.

She wants me to lash out so she can either take me to the cleaners or force me into a marriage between our two respective families that would make her precious father happy.

I’m convinced he’s just as crazy as she is. “Goodbye, Trisha. Enjoy your fucking gas.”

“Wait, is it true you’re getting engaged?”

I pause with my hand on the door. How the fuck did she hear about that? Clover’s face pops into my mind and for some strange reason, I’m instantly soothed just by picturing her smile. Denying it wouldn’t be as satisfying as simply ignoring her, so I open the door.

“If you dare walk out of here without talking to me, I’ll make sure you never see your baby.”

Fuck .

My grip tightens on the handle. Then I slowly turn to face her. “And how are you going to do that?”

“Are you getting engaged?” Her eyes are wide and angry. “Tell me!”

“Trisha—”

“I swear if you are, you’ll never see this little shit.”

“You can’t do that,” I reply, fighting to keep my voice level.

“I will. In a fucking heartbeat I will, Dean. And everyone will praise me for saving this baby from growing up with a murderer for a family.”

“Everyone we know has blood on their hands. Do you really think that will stand up?”

“Sure, especially when I have to protect this baby from the fact that killing women and babies runs in the fucking bloodline!”

Every word is another wound against my soul.

My family has tried for years to put those rumors to rest and find out what really happened in the fire that killed my siblings, but as the years tick by, the truth has been lost until nothing but these toxic rumors remain.

It’s hard to navigate when families think we’ll stop at nothing and kill women and children to get what we want.

I don’t rule on fear, but the fear is there.

“I have rights,” I state tightly as my heart begins to race. “I know my rights and nothing will stop me from being a father to my child. Even one attached to spawn as fucking foul as you, Trisha. Don’t call me again unless it’s a real fucking emergency.”

“Dean!” Trisha screams as I take a step out the door. “You can’t leave me! I’m the mother of your fucking child and I’m having a breakdown. Do you really think anyone will see you as a fit father if you leave me now?”

“No,” I snap over my shoulder. “You’re not having a breakdown. You’re having a tantrum.”

“Dean, please!” The waterworks are back on. “I’m pregnant and I’m scared. Please, you have to stay with me.”

“I have people to see.”

A switch flips and the tears turn off eerily fast. “You might be able to walk out on me right now, but I swear if you marry anyone other than me, you’ll never see this baby.”

That stops me from leaving entirely and I turn back to her. “There is no world in which I will marry you, Trisha. Not in this life or the next.”

“Yes there is.” Her eyes flash. “Either you marry me or I’m leaving. I’ll flee the state and vanish, and you will never see this baby while everyone else will think you did away with us and that you’re just as bad as your brother. Think your reputation can really handle that scandal a second time?”