Page 60 of Sweet Temptation
The funeral, seeing Georgina, the whole thing… I didn't want to be there if I'm being honest. Being back in Princeton feels a lot better than being in New York.
Lifting my head off the pillows in my new bedroom, I brush away my thoughts and look around the room. "Morning, sunshine," Bailey purrs as she saunters into the bedroom.
I smile lightly, pulling myself off the bed. "What are we doing today? We still have to plan a baby shower," she announces. I instantly shake my head, denying her idea. That is the last thing I want, especially after what Margarita said about me.
It's also way too early for me to be planning a shower. It's way too soon. But my mind keeps going back to the conversation Damon had over the phone with his mother.
"Pregnant! Are you fucking demonic? I raised you better and with enough knowledge you should know to wrap it!" Margarita snaps on the other side of the line. I sit there silently, but I still flinch at her tone.
Damon doesn't raise his voice. He just stays eerily calm through the entire process. "Yes. Pregnant and for your information, Mother, Damien, Ace, and Soren back me. So, you come for her and we come for you. Mother or not, this is my unborn child."
"A fucking mundane! Are you stupid!" She doesn't seem to be hearing his threats. All she hears is the fact that he knocked up a non-mafia-related person. Though she doesn't know who I am. And it's setting her off.
The woman gives me hives and I don't trust her. I have good reason to not trust her after all the shit I heard. "You'll have to marry her if that's the case. I don't need my soldiers thinking I'm letting my son become weak," she finally decides.
Marry me? What?!
Damon howls a laugh that makes me jump again. "Marry her. Do you have a screw lose? Even then, they would say something to you, now, wouldn't they?"
I sit there in silence as they go back and forth. Margarita Saint is not happy. The blood queen of Chicago wants my head and the head of my unborn child. I have never wished for anyone to die, but I do now.
If she touches my baby, I’ll kill her myself. I’ll kill someone even though it's the last thing I want to do. I'd do anything to protect my growing family.
My mind comes back to the present as Bailey scurries through my room, grabbing the dirty laundry. She's been doing this a lot—trying to do everything for me, thinking I'm incapable.
My lips thin as I watch her. "I can do that," I whisper as I pull one of Damon's hoodies over my head.
Bailey shakes her head and shoots me a smile. "If I don't keep myself busy, I'll be blabbing and I can't do that," she responds, grabbing my laundry basket and exiting the room.
Frowning, I pull a pair of sweatpants up my legs. Why wouldn't she be able to talk to me? She should be able to because she's the one that doesn't have massive secrets to keep. Shaking the thought from my head, I dig through my dresser, pulling out a pair of blue skinny jeans.
Perfect. Smiling, I go through my closet, pulling out a black lace bra along with my favourite button-up white top. Setting my outfit on the bed, I disappear into my bathroom, locking the door behind me.
Once I have the faucet running hot water, I strip from my clothing and step into the water, letting it pelt down on my skin. Sighing softly, I run the shampoo through my hair, scrubbing at my scalp. Nothing feels better.
"Hey! We're gonna be late," Bailey calls through the door. I let out a groan, quickly rinsing out the shampoo. Once I rinse out the conditioner and wash off the body wash. I quickly hop out of the shower, wrapping my giant white towel around my body.
The thing I like about Christmas break is I don't have to worry about classes. I can get whatever I need to get done without worrying about homework. Wrapping my hair in the towel, I wander back into my bedroom and begin getting dressed.
I threw on the outfit I picked out. Then, once I'm fully dressed, I saunter back into the bathroom and blow dry my hair. Hanging up the towel on the back of the door, I begin straightening my now dry hair.
"Let's go, Han Han," Bailey demands as she wanders into my bathroom. Her blonde hair is curled lightly, hanging down her back. She's wearing a red halter top with black skinny jeans and her fuzzy jacket. Her lips are painted pink with gloss.
I smirk and take in her appearance. "If I was into girls, you would be my first choice." I grin. Though you would never catch me with my tongue on a pussy, it's not my thing.
"Hey!" Scarlet's voice rings through the room as she dashes into the bathroom. She's pretty hot, too, but if I was into girls, I like the look of a blonde girl.
Bailey smirks and smacks a kiss on Scarlet's cheek as she pouts. "Okay, okay. Let's go." I giggle, turning off my straightener and following them out to the boot room.
Slipping on my black heeled boots, I wander out the door to Bailey's red Mercedes. Sliding into the front seat, I shoot Scarlet with a sympathetic smile. I still remember the details of a certain guy she told me about when I returned from New York and the secrets are eating at me more than the mafia ones.
"Nothing against you, babe. I just feel I would be into blonde girls," I reply softly. Scarlet grins as Bailey pulls out of the driveway and heads down the road toward Damon's condo.
Who throws a party on December twenty-second when they could just throw a Christmas eve party? Shaking my thoughts away, I stare out the window as we drive toward the condo.
When the car comes to a stop behind Ace's Type R, we all climb out and head for the door. Pursing my lips, I turn toward my friends as I grip the door handle.
"No alcohol," Bailey warns me.