Page 35 of Coerced Kiss

I won’t fail my baby. I can’t. I’ll never submit her to the childhood I had. I just have to pray that Mr. Lewis’s successor will be so happy with the quality of my work that he’ll look past my unethical behavior. I’ll explain that I was scared they wouldn’t employ me if they knew I was pregnant. If I want toprove my worth, I can’t be washed out and tired in the morning. I better go to bed.

I make to stand only to grip the armrest of the sofa as a fresh bout of dizziness hits me. It takes a little longer than this morning before my legs are stable enough to carry me to the bathroom where I wash my face and brush my teeth.

I’m about to undress when the doorbell rings. My stomach contracts into a tight ball.

It’s not Saverio.

He wouldn’t ring the bell. He’d use his key.

What if it’s the police? After what happened, I can’tnotcall Saverio.

I tiptoe to the door and peer through the peephole. A man wearing a delivery company cap stands on the threshold, carrying a large box.

“Can I help you?” I call through the door.

“I have a delivery for Ms. Brennan.”

“Who let you in?”

“The landlady.” He swifts the box in his arms. “Ms. Summers or something. She left just as I arrived.”

That would be Livy going to the bar for her habitual nightcap.

I open the door a crack.

He looks me up and down. “Ms. Brennan?”

“That’s me.”

“This is heavy.” He flashes me with a grin. “Where would you like me put it?”

“Who’s it from?”

He motions with his chin at the piece of paper that lies on top of the box.

I snatch it up and read the details.

It’s from Saverio?

“Ma’am?” The man clears his throat. “This thing weighs a ton.”

Not trusting anyone, I don’t invite him into the apartment. “You can leave it there.”

He sighs but puts the box on the doormat. “No signature is necessary.” Saluting me, he says, “Have yourself a good evening.”

“Thank you,” I reply to his back.

I wait until he’s gone before I sneak to the top of the stairs. When I’m certain there’s no one hovering downstairs, I go back and open the box.

It’s filled with … groceries.

From fresh vegetables and fruit neatly arranged in transparent containers to vacuum-packed meat and fish, there’s enough to feed a small army. On the top lies a punnet of big, red, juicy-looking strawberries. A note is stuck to the side with sticky tape.

Tearing off the piece of paper, I unfold it. The handwriting is bold and neat.

For a woman who needs to eat for two.

CHAPTER