Page 141 of Bene

He was mad that he’d missed nine weeks.

Pissed this couldn’t be different.

So fucking happy, too.

Then, he had another thought. “Why didn’t you tell me that right away? Why wait until after we talked?”

“Because you had things to say, and you deserved to be able to say them whether they would be things that hurt me, or not. I’d done enough already … it’s your turn.”

“Not a tit for tat, Vanna.”

And then his hands slid down between them, palms covering the expanse of her flat stomach just because he could, and it felt so fucking good.

“Hmm,” he said, tone thick with pride. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Bene.”

“The pregnancy thing might make this a little messier.”

Vanna grinned.

He loved that.

“But does it matter?”

No.

Not at all.

Bene dropped another quick kiss to her lips, adding, “It’s my family we have to worry about.”

Just in case she forgot.

Because he hadn’t.

“What is she doing here?”

Jesus Christ.

Bene hadn’t even helped Vanna out of the car yet, and already, it had begun. Marcus came rushing out of the Guzzi mansion like a man on a mission, his gaze laser-focused on Vanna who was currently letting Bene take her bag before she stepped out of the passenger side of his Lambo. Following behind his oldest brother was the rest of his brothers. The mansion had become a hub of sorts for them while their father remained in lock up, and their mother refused to return home until Gian came with her.

“Marcus—”

“What the fuck are you doing with her, huh? Why is she here, Bene? You know we got Chris’s wife in the house, right? The kids. Ginevra is here, too, and the baby. And you bring that fucking thing here tonight?”

“Marcus!”

His oldest brother was all of two feet away from them, looking as though if he didn’t rip Bene apart piece by piece with his bare hands, then he might go for Vanna next. Bene couldn’t have that, so he quickly moved in front of Vanna, dropping her bag to the ground as his hand slipped behind him to lay flat against her stomach.

He pointed one finger at his brother. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

Marcus fumed.

Blazing eyes.

Clenching fists.

Pure fucking rage.