Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“Domani, get your brother and I’ll stay in here with Ivy.”
“No. I’m not leaving. I’ll just stay by her head.”
“If you faint again, I’m just going to have to leave you there.”
“That’s fine. I don’t want to miss my son’s arrival.” I flex my hand and he lowers his head to mine. “Ivy, I’m sorry that I acted like a little bitch, Sugar. From now on, I’m good to go.”
“I love…” The rest doesn’t come out because a pain hits so hard I scream.
“You can do it, Ivy.” I start pushing at the doctor’s command and thirty-five minutes later, our son is born. Niccolò doesn’t pass out again. My heart does flips when they place my sweet Niccolò Jr. on my chest. “He has a lot of hair.”
“Well, from your baby pictures, I would say he gets that from you.”
“Yes, he gets that from Niccolò. Congratulations, you two,” my mother-in-law says, wiping her eyes as she steals glances at our son. “Please excuse me—I’m going to tell everyone.” She kisses my temple and walks around to hug Niccolò before leaving.
“My boy,” Niccolò says, bending down and kissing his son. “I love you both.”
“We’re going to get him cleaned up and will bring him back. Rest, Mrs. Bianchi. You’ve done an excellent job.” The nurses take him to the baby cleaning and care station while Niccolò and I watch, itching for them to bring our baby back.
“You did so well, amore. I’m sure the family can’t wait to see the newest addition.” We can hear the roars of cheers from the waiting room.
Niccolò
I’ll follow this woman to the ends of the earth, but for tonight, it’s to the balcony of our villa on the Italian coast. “What’s wrong, Ivy?”
“I saw the way that woman was looking at you.” Lord, I knew it. I slide my hand around her rounded belly, pulling her back to my chest.
“Do you want me to kill her? I will.”
“No. This is not funny.”
“It’s not fucking funny at all. My wife’s feelings are hurt over something I have no control over, but I can remedy it.”
“No. No, she doesn’t need to die because she’s a ho. I mean, if she’s got some STI or some shit, I ain’t got a problem, but not at your hands.”
“Calm yourself, Ivy. I didn’t even notice it until she slipped me her number on the check.”
She screeches, spinning out of my arms and slapping my chest. “She slipped you her number?” Great, I could kick my own ass. She storms back into the house and grabs her gun out of her suitcase. “Now I’m going to kill that bitch.”
I snatch it from her before she accidentally hurts herself. “Ivy Grace Bianchi, you better stop this shit right now.” I grab her face firmly, but not enough to harm my love. “You are mine, and I sure as fuck am yours. Calm your crazy ass down.”
“When have you ever known that to work on a woman, Niccolò?” She yanks her face away.
“I don’t know. You’re the only one I’ve had to deal with, but all of you damn Bianchi women are nuts.”
“Yeah, well, the only thing we have in common is you stupidly handsome Bianchi men. I’m leaving.” She turns on her heel, heading to our bedroom, and grabs her suitcase. Fucking hell.
I pull the fucker from her hand and scoop up my wife. Pregnant or not, she needs to be reminded of something. Sitting out on the balcony, I set her over my knees, leaving my legs open so her small three-month belly isn’t upset by what I’m about to do. I lift up her already too-damn-short dress and yank her panties down. Our men are around the perimeter, but they know to keep their eyes away from the house and on any possible intruders. They can’t see us from their angle, so it’s the perfect spot to show my wife what it means to threaten me with leaving.
“What the fuck did you just say to me, wife?”
“I’m leaving. You can have her number.”
“I think you want your ass beat.” I rub my hand on her ass and then give her the first smack. She cries out, and I give her another. “What in the hell has gotten into you that I’d let you leave?” She doesn’t answer, so I switch cheeks. “You forget that I own you, Mrs. Bianchi, until the end of our days.”
“Keep it up, and they’ll be the end of yours. You let that bitch flirt with you like I wasn’t there.” I pop her ass once more. It takes me a second in my possessive ire to hear what she said. I flip her onto the massive settee, straddling her body.
“Have you not met me? You are the only woman I’ve ever let take my attention from anything. Did I give her my attention?”