Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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.