Page 25 of Legacy of Deception

Not much. “I’m pregnant.”

No small talk, no warning. Just straight to it. That felt like the best way to go. After all, how else was I supposed to broach the subject? It wasn’t as though we would be in these positions, standing here, with each other, for much longer. He would ask the obvious questions, like whose it was, and then we would move on. Go our separate ways. He would go back to being Capri’s brother, and me, her best friend. Until the inevitable time when I walked down the aisle and became his sister-in-law.

Seemed pretty obvious to me.

Pretty robotic and depressing, to put it bluntly, but obvious, nonetheless.

Luckily, I wasn’t waiting for any monumental response, because if I had been, I would have been waiting a lifetime. He offered me nothing more than a noncommittal grunt. If a grunt was even what could have been used to describe the guttural noise that came from him.

He tugged at my hand and quietly led me out of the store to one of the concrete block benches along the street, something Marco seemed to have a keen eye for finding no matter where we were.

“Sit,” he repeated the same command as before. This time I obliged him.

Scrubbing a hand over his mouth, he took the seat next to me, his thigh brushing up against mine in the lightest of touches. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant,” I repeated, removing my hat and placing it in my lap. I might as well have gotten comfortable, considering I had a feeling this was going to take a while. There was almost no way either of us were catching the tail end of the ceremony. Not that it should’ve been the case. It should’ve been quick, painless. For him, anyway.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, turns out I heard you the first time.” Angling his head, he asked, “When did you find out?”

Did it matter? It seemed irrelevant to me. “Listen, be grateful, okay?”

He screwed his nose up in disgust. “How do you figure I should be grateful?”

I shrugged, paying attention to the feathers I was mindlessly toying with on my hat. “You can leave. You’re off the hook. I’m sure our fathers will put their heads together and pick me another brother who will at the very least know what he’s in for from the beginning.”

Tension surrounded us like an unrelenting spirit.

“That wasn’t what I asked. When did you find out?”

I swallowed, looking back up and observing his muscles turn rigid. “I had my suspicions when we were taking our engagement photos with Frankie.”

“What?” He shook his head and stood up.

Shifting, I explained, “The smells. Your cologne. The tuna.”

“Tuna? What tuna?”

“Frankie’s sandwich.” Fear uncoiled in my belly all over again. “I finally took a test today.” I couldn’t keep doing this. The more I talked about it… It changed nothing. Marco didn’t need to be a part of this. It would have made it a lot simpler if he—

“Who’s the father?” he drawled, his eyes following mine as I got up and held my purse in the same hand as my hat now.

“Marco, please, he was just some man. It meant nothing.” Just like this conversation, actually. I thought I could do this, but I couldn’t. “Why are we even doing this right now? I should be retrieving my stuff from your place. I have to call my father. You have to call yours. Mine isn’t going to be happy with me, but we might be able to save this. If Santo really wants—”

“Brooklyn,” he roared, cutting me off like the brakes of a car, and I instinctively felt myself wind down in the same manner. His gaze wasn’t leaving mine, but I broke the spell anyway, choosing to see his fingers encircle my wrist. “It doesn’t matter that you’re pregnant. To me, at least. I’m not the father. It has nothing to do with me. And this changes absolutely nothing between us. Our fathers had a deal, and mine doesn’t take too kindly to broken arrangements, especially ones that have the potential to screw him over. So, you and I are still engaged. Are we clear?”

The sounds that filled the streets of New York muted, if only but for a few moments, as I studied him. Waiting, watching, thinking it was going to happen any second. He was going to change his mind or say that I couldn’t have honestly believed that. Which I didn’t. Mostly because I didn’t understand it. He didn’t want this, and this was the best way for him to get out of it. That begged the question, why? What exactly was in this for him? My pulse quickened as I still couldn’t figure that one out.

Deciding to address his earlier question, I cleared my throat. “His name is Robert Lyons.” With my statement, I pulled back, putting some distance between us.

He cocked his head. “Robert Lyons? As in the old fucking man behind Lyons Enterprises?”

“He’s not that old,” I countered, rolling my eyes. You know, he didn’t really get to judge. In fact, he should’ve been lucky I was telling him at all. I didn’t need to. Wasn’t he the one who had said I could have my secrets? While I thought there was more to his magnanimous offer, I wasn’t going to question it because it served my purpose. So, really, he should’ve been satisfied with what I gave him without asking more questions.

A smirk overtook his lips, but it wasn’t an attractive look on him. “If you like expired sausage.”

My cheeks burned, and I scoffed. “Charming.” There was nothing expired on Robert. In fact, his erection was more reliable than most men I’d been out with. So were his douchebag ways, ironically enough.

“No. What’s charming is how you slept with a man with decreased testosterone levels and shrinking balls.”