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I sniffled and shook my head. My heart suddenly hurting. “But you didn’t know for sure, Carlo. You didn’t know he was yours.” I also knew that fact. Or else he wouldn’t have had a DNA test done. Not that I blamed him.
A man like Carlo—with all his wealth and notoriety—would need to protect what was his.
Carlo shook his head now. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Not one fucking bit. Just like it doesn’t matter with Daniella. She’s mine, Giselle. I claimed her. My father claimed her. And my mother claimed her.”
Carlo’s eyes overflowed, and I thought I might just die.
Right here.
Underneath him.
“And we would have done the same with the baby in your belly. Even if he didn’t share my DNA. I would have laid claim to him, Giselle.” One of his teardrops fell onto my cheek. “You know I would have claimed him as my own.” His words were forceful and strong—just like he was.
My lumberjack.
My lover.
The man I’d chosen to be my daughter’s new father.
My hands cupped his wet cheeks, and I nodded furiously as I cried uncontrollably. “I know that, honey. I really do. But, Carlo,” I tried to calm myself down so I could get this part out. I needed him to know, “when I found out I was pregnant—that we’d made a baby. I was so happy. And so determined to get him safe. Away from—harm. I wanted him so much, Carlo. I—”
Carlo was done letting me talk. Because he crushed his lips to mine and gave me a toe-curling kiss. I let my fingers glide into his hair and held him to me.
When he finally broke our kiss, he panted into my mouth, “Thank you, Giselle. Thank you for keeping him safe. Thank you for keeping yourself safe. And thank you for keeping Dani safe. And getting all of you out.”
Oh.
My.
Poor.
Heart.
It was never going to be the same after this.
Carlo thanking me for—everything. Well, it seemed to glue something inside of me back together again. I wasn’t exactly sure what. But I felt more whole again.
“I knew we’d get out. But I—” I started to say, but the emotion caught in my throat. What I was going to say next was going to be some of the most difficult words of my life to utter. “I don’t know if I can have any more babies. You heard the doctors.”
Carlo’s face grew more serious, and he had a look in his eyes that I’d never seen before. “I heard them. And we’re going to prove them wrong. Do you understand me?” His gaze flickered from one eye to the other. “We’re going to make them all eat their words. Do you understand me?”
Oh, my gosh.
This man.
He was just too much sometimes.
“Okay, Carlo,” I said, and truth be known—I almost believed him.
Almost.
I was the one who’d been through all those surgeries, though.
And I was the one who’d heard the statistics blurted out.
Over and over again.
And they weren’t good.
