Page 50 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)

Dominick

Three Months Later

“Dominick, it’s enough!”

I glance up at my gorgeous fiancée in confusion, but I don’t have to wait long for her to elaborate.

“Damien and I are sick of being cooped up in this house. Don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful and perfect. Damien loves his room and the fact that you managed to find a house with the perfect Giving Tree to replace the old one. But you need to let us out. It’s like we’re in jail!”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to upset her further, knowing we’re never going to see eye to eye on this. It’s been three months since we lost Ricky and came way too close to losing Martha.

Despite us having access to Anthony’s phone, he wasn’t as stupid as we thought because he left no trace of any evidence of him working with or for someone else, so we are no closer to knowing if we have a bigger threat looming over our heads or if Anthony said what he did to fuck with us.

Shortly after everything went down, we started searching for a new house.

Since my mom was already pretty much living with her fiancée—who is now her husband—she moved in with him.

Brielle chose to move in with us, unsure where she wants to live, and Matteo—despite me asking him to live with us—moved into a condo in one of the developments we own, saying it was time for him to have his own place.

At first, Peyton was busy setting up the new place, so she didn’t fight me on my refusing to let them go anywhere.

We set a wedding date, and then she was busy with Thanksgiving.

But then Damien began to complain that he wanted to invite his friends from school to his upcoming birthday party, and she started asking when he was going back.

“I’d hardly call a twenty-thousand-square-foot home jail, but to each their own,” I say dryly.

“Dominick,” she says, rounding the desk and climbing into my lap, “I understand you want to keep us safe”—she runs her fingers through my hair, and I lean back, gripping the curves of her luscious hips, wishing we could just stay in this bubble forever—“but Damien misses his friends, and I miss working, and … you’re going to have to let us out because I need to go to the doctor. ”

“What?” I sit up and lift her onto my desk, and then I search her for what could possibly be wrong.

“Stop.” She laughs, swatting my hands away. “I’m fine, but my period is late, and I need to have my pregnancy confirmed.”

Her period is late.

Pregnancy confirmed.

“You’re pregnant?” I breathe out, my hands going to her soft belly.

“I think so.” She smiles. “But this time, I want to do it the right way. With you by my side.”

Fuck, she’s pregnant. If she thinks I’m going to let her out of the house now, she’s wrong.

She just gave me even more reason to keep her safe in our house.

With the brick wall—topped with electric fence and barbed wire—that runs around the perimeter of our property, the state-of-the-art guard gate and wrought iron gates, and the additional guards manning the area, this house is a fortress that will protect my family.

“Say something,” she says, her brows furrowed in concern.

“I love you.” I press a kiss to her supple lips. “I can’t wait to marry you and have this baby with you. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” she says with a soft smile.

I’m sure she thinks she’s being let out of the safety of our home, and she’ll be mad when she learns she’s not, but I will stop at nothing to ensure that my family is protected.

“What the hell is this?”

Peyton glares at me, but I ignore her as we walk over to meet the doctor.

“This is Dr. Drescher,” I tell her. “She’s one of the best OB-GYN’s in South Florida, and she’ll be confirming your pregnancy and making sure everything looks good.”

“No.” Peyton steps back and shakes her head. “No. This is not happening. I love you, but if you don’t let me out of this goddamn house, I’m going to scream it down.”

The doctor shuffles uncomfortably. “I can come back …”

“No,” Peyton says again. “You will not come back. We will go to you, like a normal couple. I’m assuming you have an office?”

The doctor nods.

“Great!” Peyton says. “We’ll meet you there.”

The doctor is torn between staying and going, so I nod at her, letting her know we’ll meet her at the office.

Once she’s gone, I step toward Peyton, who’s looking at me like she wants to murder me with her bare hands.

“Peaches—”

“No, Dominick!” she yells. “Don’t you Peaches me. This is insane. We are going to the doctor, and Damien is going back to school, and I am going back to work!”

She captures my face in her hands and looks up at me with her beautiful emerald eyes. “We are not going to live our lives like this anymore. I love that you want to keep us safe, but we’re not living. Please,” she begs.

My heart cracks in my chest because I hate the thought of her being upset, but I also want her to be alive.

“If something happened to you or our son …”

“I get it,” she chokes out. “I get it. I want nothing more than for all of us to be safe, but we’re not enjoying our life together.

I want to go on dates with my fiancée, to take our son to the park and the movies and the museums. I want family trips and dinners out.

I love our home and our life, but you’re making me resent it and you. ”

Fuck, I know she’s right.

“Okay,” I tell her. “We’ll go to the doctor and then let the school know Damien will be returning next week. But, Peyton, you don’t go anywhere without guards and never in anyone else’s car.”

“Okay, thank you.” She kisses me and then pulls back. “Now, let’s go confirm this pregnancy.”

Since we didn’t want to get Damien’s hopes up yet, Brielle stayed with him while we headed over to the doctor’s office.

Martha listened to me, and the day she was let out of the hospital, I moved her into a small cottage—of her choosing—on the water, where she can retire and spend the rest of her days relaxing. I also promised she was welcome to visit anytime she wanted.

Dr. Drescher had the morning blocked off for us, so her nurse takes us back. She gets Peyton’s blood pressure, has her give a urine sample, and collects some blood.

When she’s done, she leads us into a private room and gives Peyton a paper gown to put on, and then says she and the doctor will be back in a few minutes.

“How are you feeling?” I ask while she changes out of her clothes and puts on the gown that shows off her pert ass and sexy back.

“Okay,” she says, sitting back on the medical bed. “I haven’t really had any morning sickness, like I did with Damien, so that has me a little nervous.”

I walk over and take her hand in mine, bringing it up to my lips. “If you’re not pregnant and it’s a false alarm, if you want to get on birth control …”

She smiles warmly at me and palms my cheek. “I don’t want to get on birth control. Life is short and precious, and I want to have another baby with you. If it’s a false alarm, then we’ll keep having fun trying.”

The doctor knocks, and after Peyton says she’s dressed, she and the nurse come back in. While the nurse sets up a machine, the doctor asks Peyton questions, like when her last period was and how her last pregnancy went.

“The urine test came back positive,” the doctor says with a smile. “Based on your last period, you’re most likely not far enough along for an abdominal ultrasound, so we’re going to do a transvaginal one to confirm your pregnancy and try to get an estimated due date.”

Peyton lifts her legs onto the stirrups, and I try to ignore the fact that the woman is about to shove a decent-sized fake dick into my fiancée by focusing on her and the monitor.

A few moments later, the screen gets fuzzy, and then a small flutter appears, followed by a loud whooshing sound.

“Oh!” Peyton breathes. “That’s the heartbeat.”

She glances at me with tears in her eyes, and I swear my heart has never been so damn full. This woman is truly the light in my dark world.

“It’s strong and healthy,” the doctor says. “And based on the size, you’re about nine weeks pregnant with a due date of May 23.”

“Really?” Peyton asks. “But I had some bleeding last month.”

“It happens,” the doctor says. “But everything appears to be normal …” She continues clicking and then grins. “Well, lookee here.” She points at the screen. “It seems someone was hiding.”

I’m holding Peyton’s hand, so when she squeezes it, I glance down at her in confusion.

“Who’s hiding?” I ask.

“Holy shit,” Peyton gasps. “There’s two?”

“There is,” the doctor says. “You’re pregnant with twins.”

“Oh my God.” Peyton laughs. “Apparently, you don’t do anything half-assed.”

She smiles at me, but I’m too shocked to smile back because, holy fucking shit, she’s pregnant with twins. That’s not only one baby to protect, but two. And she’s going to have to carry them both.

“Is that healthy?” I ask, realizing how stupid I sound once the words are out.

“It’s perfectly healthy,” the doctor says with a small smile.

“The goal will be to get as close to term as possible, but with twins, sometimes, it’s normal for them to come sooner.

Since you had a C-section with your son, we’ll be able to schedule one for this pregnancy.

For now, I’m going to prescribe you a prenatal vitamin.

Keep the stress to a minimum, eat healthy, and drink plenty of fluids, and we’ll see you back in four weeks. ”

She hands the probe to the nurse, and then she prints out black-and-white photos of the two tiny little dots that represent our babies. Then, they excuse themselves so Peyton can get cleaned up and dressed.

“I can’t believe we’re having twins,” Peyton says with another laugh. “You sure you still want to be a stay-at-home dad?”

There’s a twinkle in her eye, and I can’t help but pull her into my arms and kiss her hard. This woman has given me everything I could ever want, and now, she’s about to give me two more babies.

“I’ll be whatever the hell you want me to be,” I murmur against her lips, “as long as I can be with you.”

“You have me, Dominick,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Until death do us part. And even then, I’m sure you’ll find me in the afterlife.”

“Damn right I will,” I tell her, kissing her soft lips. “And then I’ll drag you from heaven to join me in the pits of hell. Because you, Peyton soon-to-be Antonov, will always be my sweetest sin.”

Peyton

Eight Months Later

As I lie on the couch with my family surrounding our two precious little bundles of joy, I can’t help but feel so blessed.

This pregnancy was a mixture of sweet and rough.

Dominick gave in and let Damien go back to school—with the agreement that not one, but two guards would be on the premises at all times.

Thankfully, they blend in, and the kids don’t think anything of it.

We got married on Christmas Eve, and the wedding was beautiful. Only our close friends and family were there, in a small church, where we exchanged our vows and then signed the papers for Dominick to be added to Damien’s birth certificate and for both of our last names to be changed.

He surprisingly let me work, but when I hit six months pregnant and my blood pressure was a bit high, I was forced to quit to go on volunteer bed rest before it turned into mandatory bed rest. With that news came Dominick’s need to delegate.

We’ve yet to replace Martha, though I don’t believe she could ever be replaced.

But he insisted on having someone come in and cook healthy meals for us, and then he hired a nurse to come daily to check on me.

It was a bit over the top, but I quickly realized it was the only way he would calm down, and the last thing I wanted was for my husband to have a heart attack.

Brielle offered to throw me a baby shower, but the truth is, our circle is so small that it would’ve just been us, so instead, we went shopping and to lunch and then spent the afternoon setting up the nursery.

We decided to wait to find out the genders of the babies, so we had the room painted in soft yellows and greens and blues and bought enough clothes to last until we could go shopping.

I made it to thirty-six weeks and then my water broke. So, we went in, and they performed a C-section. Then, we got to meet our beautiful, healthy little boys.

Yes, I gave birth to twin boys, and Damien is absolutely beside himself. They aren’t identical, but at only a few weeks old, it’s hard to tell them apart.

Justin—named after my mother, Justine—seems to be calm. Adam—his name was picked by Damien—is cranky and demanding, reminding me of his father.

Since we arrived home, everyone has been so helpful. Brielle has been making sure that Damien is taken care of while Larisa helps with the babies. Even Martha has come by several times to visit.

We’ve hired a nighttime nanny to help because breastfeeding two babies is not easy, especially while recovering from surgery. But Dominick and I still take turns getting up.

“Do you want to hold Justin?” I ask Matteo, who has been watching from afar since we got home, but has made no move to come near either of the babies.

“Nah.” He chuckles. “Pretty sure I would break him or drop him.”

I’m about to tell him that’s not true when the front door opens, and Daniil walks in, a serious expression on his face.

“Boss,” he says to Dominick, “we have an issue.”

My heart drops.

It’s been quiet.

We started to think what Anthony had said was a lie to scare us.

But deep down, we always knew the other shoe would drop.

“What’s going on?” Dominick asks as Matteo stands and walks over to join them.

“The police are here,” Daniil says, “and they’re looking for Matteo. They have a warrant for his arrest.”

I gasp at the same time Matteo curses under his breath.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks the officer who is standing in the doorway.

The officer steps inside and starts to read him his rights. I don’t understand it all, but from the little I do, he’s being arrested for money laundering.

Matteo scoffs when the officer finishes. “Really? That’s what you guys have on me?” He glances at Dominick, and they exchange a look. “You know this shit isn’t going to stick,” Matteo says as they cuff him and take him away.

“Just doing my job,” the officer says.

“Why are they doing this?” I ask Dominick once they’re gone.

“Because they want Matteo put away,” he says, turning to Daniil. “Lock the house and the property down,” he says in a tone that sends a chill up my spine. “There’s only one reason someone wants Matteo behind bars. They don’t want him to interfere in whatever they have planned.”

Gah! I hope you loved Dominick and Peyton’s story, but this series is far from over.