Page 61 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

It’s not Tylenol.

Those aren’t ordinary painkillers. The gesture too practiced.

He knows her dosage. How many times has he taken care of her like this?

She never used to get migraines. What happened to her?

“She needs somewhere quiet,” Stephen says. “She needs to lie down.”

“I’ll be fine,” Valeria protests without opening her eyes.

Stephen shifts as though preparing to lift her into his arms.

“No.”

My voice cracks through the room, stopping him mid-motion.

We stare each other down.

Whatever he sees in my expression seems to satisfy him, because he steps back.

I’ll be damned before I let another man carry her in my presence.

I bend down and lift her into my arms.

She’s too light. Far too light for someone her height.

My chest tightens so violently I can barely breathe.

“Wait,” Andrea protests. “Bianca’s really not going to appreciate this when she finds out. Let me carry her.”

Bianca.

The thought of hurting her doesn’t sit well with me. After everything she’s done for me, she doesn’t deserve that.

But nothing — absolutely nothing — is going to make me hand Valeria over to another man while she’s trembling in pain against me.

“I’ll deal with Bianca.”

Valeria protests weakly.

“Put me down, Dante.”

“Never.”

I tighten my hold around her and carry her toward the elevator, Stephen and Andrea following close behind.

Inside the elevator, no one speaks.

Valeria’s body, tense at first, slowly relaxes against mine. Her fists remain clenched against her chest, as if she’s physically stopping herself from grabbing onto me.

That simple gesture destroys me.

The doors open onto the twelfth floor.

I address Sandrine, my assistant.

“No interruptions.”