Page 5

The color drains from her face. Fear glints in the depths of her eyes before she shuts it off like she pushed a button.

I mentally curse. I’m good at reading people. A skill I honed as a police officer and fine-tuned as I turned Sullivan Security into an international success. Something’s off. Not once during our night together did I get a hint of any sort of manipulation. The setup, too, is odd. She never contacted me, not once, between our night together and when I walked into her office. If getting pregnant had been her goal, or seducing me into marriage, why leave before I even woke up and not reach out again?

I glance toward her office door. When I walked through that door the first time and saw her, the first thing I felt was a bone-deep relief.

There you are.

I’ve never lost my head over a woman. I enjoy them but keep them at a distance. But when I woke up after my night with Lexi to an empty bed, disappointment had settled in the pit of my stomach, a weight that shouldn’t have existed but persisted for weeks every time I thought of her.

A weight that had alleviated for a heartbeat when I’d seen her standing behind that desk, auburn hair tied back into a bun, her tall form clad in a navy suit with a skirt that clung to her hips and followed the lines of her long legs past her knees. A weight that had crashed down even harder once I’d registered the blank expression on her sculpted face, her professional greeting. To make the connection that the woman I’d been lusting after for the past few months was connected to Lucifer.

Funny how quickly lust and desire can turn to disgust, to wrath. I know how easily people can disappoint you. Yet I let myguard down for the first time in decades because I saw a sad, beautiful woman in a bar.

A woman who now looks anything but sad as she glares daggers at me.

“Let me make myself clear, Mr. Sullivan. This is my child.” Alessandra’s voice lashes out, a whip fashioned of ice. One hand moves to her stomach, an unconscious gesture that speaks volumes. My chest tightens. “Not yours, not ours,mine. I don’t need you and I certainly don’t want you involved.”

A knock cuts through the tension. My head snaps to the side. Alessandra turns toward the door. In that moment, I see the small curve pressing against the fabric of her dress.

Possessiveness grips my chest, a vise that tightens with every step she takes toward the door. The same possessiveness that reared its head when I witnessed my half-brother Gavriil flirt with Alessandra during the will reading. Then, I was able to dismiss it, harnessing my shock and fury to push away any of my former feelings.

But now, as my world narrows to her and that tiny swell, I want to go to her, tuck her away somewhere private before demanding answers.

My fingers curl into fists as she opens the door.

“Hi, Donnie.”

I blink at the sudden change in her tone. Warm, welcoming. Her voice catapults me back to Santorini when our eyes first met, when she gave me a smile that made me want to possess her as much as it made me want to worship her. When she said “Hi” in that husky voice that slid over me like hot silk, as if she’d been waiting for me all night.

“Just checking on you, Miss Wright.”

Donnie’s gaze darts to me. I stare back at him. The man had it out for me as soon as I stepped out of the elevator, greetingme with narrowed eyes and a flat voice as he directed me back to Alessandra’s office.

“We’re okay. Mr. Sullivan and I are just wrapping up. I’ll let you know when we leave.”

The smile in her voice stirs up a nasty swirl of jealousy. Ridiculous that I’m feeling anything over a minor kindness she’s showing a coworker old enough to be her father.

But it’s there. It’s there and damn it, I have to manage it.

Alessandra closes the door behind him. When she turns back to me, her face is once again set in that cool mask.

“Your coworkers seem to like you.”

Her mouth thins as she blinks once, twice. The mask slips just a fraction.

“They’re good people.”

“Yet you’re leaving.” I glance at the numerous boxes scattered around her office. “Because of the baby?”

A long moment passes, then she nods once. Unwanted guilt pricks between my shoulder blades.

“Kingston was never my forever plan. I hadn’t anticipated leaving so soon.” She looks around her office. “But I’ll handle it.”

“And you want nothing from me?”

The investigation I ordered on her the minute I walked out of her office three months ago revealed no unusual financial history, no outstanding debts. In fact, Alessandra lived leanly given the salary she earned. A one-bedroom apartment in Queens’s Astoria neighborhood. A frequent traveler on New York’s subways. She can afford to support this child on her own.

But I’ve met several women who could pay their own bills and still chose to come after my money. I don’t know what Lucifer promised Alessandra in exchange for trapping me: money, a better position, something else she desired.