Page 47 of Coerced Wife
“You’re going to marry me,” I say. “Your baby will need a father.”
“A father,” she says with an ironic chuckle.
“Yes.” I straighten and drop my hand to my side, releasing her from the prison of my arm. “A father who can protect him and take him fishing, teach him what to say to a girl if he truly likes her, how to drive a vintage car...”
“And how to handle a gun.”
“You can handle a gun.”
She folds her arms behind her and leans against the wall. Her tone is soft but earnest, perhaps all the more earnest because it’s so soft. “I won’t give up my child, Saverio. Never. I’ll fight whoever tries to take her away from me until my last breath.”
And there she is, the lioness I admire.
I cup her cheek. The coldness of her skin penetrates my palm. “I know,tesoro. I don’t expect you to give him up. Even I’m not that cruel.”
“Why?” she asks again, giving me that look she does when she’s trying to figure me out. “Why would you do something like that for a child who isn’t yours, a child of a woman you don’t even love?”
“You know the answer. You want to hear it again? I own your life. You’re mine, and I told you I take care of what’s mine. I already took responsibility for the baby inside you from the moment you told me you were pregnant. It’s my job to keep both of you safe, and I take my duties very seriously.”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, something sad reflecting in her eyes despite the vow I just made.
“I’m not a good man.” I brush a thumb under her eye, tracing the softness of that spot. “But I know how to be a good father.”
“I suppose, once again, you’re not giving me a say in the matter,” she says with an accusation burning in her gaze.
I pull my hand away from her face. No. What she says matters, but it won’t change anything.
“It is what it is,” I say, willing her to accept our situation and spare herself a lot of suffering. “We’re getting married, and I’ll be the best father I can be for your child.”
She nods, but the gesture is absent-minded.
Sensing her slipping away from me mentally, I take her hand. “Come back inside. You didn’t even take your coat.” I rub her arm. “You’re cold. We’ll have a warm meal and a mocktail. You’ll feel better for it.”
“Just take me home,” she says, hugging herself.
I can’t deny her the little things when she has no say about the major decisions in her life.
Shielding her from the cold by pulling her under my arm, I take my phone from my pocket and summon Kevin.
We go back inside for her coat. I leave a few bills, enough to pay for Kearney’s meals and ours, the ones we won’t be having after all, and do what my treasure wants.
I take herhome, to my place, to the place where I’m keeping her forever.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Anya
Iwander listlessly through the house while Saverio is at the gym, wearing nothing but the shirt he took off last night. I should get dressed, but the scent of musky male and spicy cologne that clings to the fabric is soothing. It makes me feel protected even though such a notion is crazy. He’s the last person I should feel safe with, yet I still sleep like a baby in his bed, and here I am, drowning in his smell and his clothes when he’s not here to see it. I don’t want to show him how wearing his clothes comfort me in a vulnerable moment when he’s the cause of the turmoil tormenting me. I still feel bruised about what he said. I’m not sure what to make of the whole adoption thing.
What I should be doing is using the precious little time I have alone to search for weird tubular keys, but I have a bizarre urge to redecorate, not only to paint the walls and to change the furniture but also to put pretty flowers thatsmell nice in the rooms. My fingers itch to pluck down the dreary curtains and let the sunshine in, to throw the windows wide open and smell the bite of winter over the stale atmosphere of the grandeur in the lounge. I want to spring clean and repack all the cupboards. It’s strange, especially seeing that it’s not even my house, yet I’m to live here now. Forever. And taking into account the nature of Saverio’s and my relationship, that’s a scary prospect.
I try not to dwell on the daunting future. It will only drive me crazy. Instead, I let my feet carry me where they will. Going from room to room, I inspect each one for the first time by not just looking but truly seeing what’s in front of me. Everything is so stuffy and somber. I carry on until I find myself in front of the baby room. I haven’t gone inside since the day I walked in on Saverio ripping the room apart. He’s installed a door between the master suite and the nursery and plastered as well as painted the wall around the frame. The smell of fresh paint is still faint in the air.
I grab the door handle but hesitate. The reason I haven’t crossed the threshold is because I don’t want to admit what the room signifies. I held on to the belief that this situation wasn’t forever, but after last night, I know differently. There’s no getting out of this, no turning back.
I try to imagine what the room looks like with the dark panels and heavy drapes in front of the windows gone. With the walls plastered white, the room must seem airy and light.