Page 140 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby

I’m never the brother people fear. I’m never the one that stands out. Everything about me, and who I am, is designed to hide.

To stay hidden.

I haven’t even told my family about my successful real estate business, and Marco’s exasperation is a stark reminder of why.

They’ve never seen me as capable. As someone worth noticing.

So why would I want to prove them wrong, if they never believed in me in the first place?

That, at least, feels familiar in terms of my baggage with my family.

Layered in, however, is an entirely new hurt.

Gia.

As I drive away, the biggest, and most pressing, bubbles up through me like heartburn.

Why the hell am I not enough for her?

And, more importantly… Marco’s words are getting to me. They’re making me realize that, under everything, there’s one more question that’s demanding my attention.

Loudly.

Given what Marco’s already said, and what Gia’s told me, I keep wondering one very pivotal, crucial thing.

Will Gia ever choose me?

23

GIA

It takes three days on the damn boat to get anywhere.

Which means, disconcertingly, I have absolutely no idea where we are. I’m not an old-timey sailor. I can’t read the stars or the currents or whatever else they used to do in order to not be totally lost at sea.

Because that’s what I am right now.

Lost.

One hundred percent, completely and totally, lost.

The fact that I’m harboring a little stowaway makes everything a little worse.

The fact that Liam MacAntyre, the long-lost twin brother of Kieran (and honestly I’m assuming there is either a third triplet or sibling to deal with at this point) has quietly insisted, over and over again, that we get married, makes it even worse.

Every time I think about Liam, or him asking me to marry him, or any number of things associated with that whole situation, there’s a Gordian knot of emotion in my chest that makes me pretty sure I’m going to have a panic attack.

I can’t think about Sal.

If I think about Sal…

The panic attack is something I can’t have. Not here. Not when I’m trying to survive.

Not when someone very small, and very much inside my body, is also counting on me to survive.

When we finally get off of the stupid boat, it’s not anywhere crazy like Florida or the Bahamas. The coastline is rocky and cold. Like, really cold. There’s ice and mountains and the tiniest, barest scrap of green.

“Where the hell are we?” I say to Liam as he helps me onto the dock.