RIP Julian
“You are Valerie Foster?” Antonio Costello asked in a thick Italian accent, his deep voice surprisingly gentle.
Valerie looked at him, studying his features slowly and carefully. He appeared to be in his late thirties with jet-black hair and eyes so dark they seemed almost black. His face, while almost handsome, had a deep scar running from his forehead down to his cheek on the right side, making him look intimidating, to say the least.
He sat with an air of confidence, his posture tall and regal, indicating a man of power and strength. Even seated, his broad shoulders and the powerful build of his chest and arms hinted at his impressive height.
He looked absolutely terrifying, Valerie thought.
One look at Antonio Costello and Valerie could tell he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.
“Yes,” she replied briskly, holding her stomach protectively as if to protect her baby from the predator in front of her. She was sitting on a couch in front of him with one of her brother’s men standing behind her. He had his eyes glued to her just as he promised he would.
“Hmm,” Antonio said. He narrowed his eyes at Val’s pregnant belly. “And that’s Julian Sinclaire’s child.”
“Yes.”
The man made a face as if he had eaten something bitter. “You decided to have a child with that Russian sleaze bag? Could’ve done better, Bella.”
Val rolled her eyes. Why did everyone, including her mother, just assume she could’ve done better than Julian? Sure, he was a douchebag and a cheating bastard at times, but he was at least nice to her. He took her in and protected her when she needed it the most!
Not to mention he had gifted her with her unborn son. RIP Julian.
“Is there a point to this conversation?” Valerie asked impatiently. “Why did you bring me here?”
Antonio’s black eyes flashed. “A little impatient, are we?” he remarked, his tone laced with amusement.
Val bristled at Antonio’s condescending tone but forced herself to stay composed. “I didn’t think you brought me here to make small talk,” she said.
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Of course, of course. Pregnancy does tend to make women a bit…testy.”
Val clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to snap back at him. Instead, she forced herself to remain calm and focused on him. “Let’s get to the point. What do you want from me?”
Antonio leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he studied her with those intense black eyes. “Straight to business, I like that,” he mused. “Very well, Signorina Foster. Like I said to your brother, you have something that belongs to me.”
“What would that be?” she asked.
“A series of codes. I won’t go into details, but they are written on a piece of paper,” he paused and leaned forward. “I have reasons to believe that you have it in your possession.”
Val narrowed her eyes. “And if I did have these codes, why would I give them to you?”
Antonio’s smile was like a predator’s, confident and unnerving. “Because, mio amore, you don’t have a choice.”
“What? Are you going to kill me? With my unborn baby?” Val asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.
His eyes widened. “Kill you? Oh no. I am more decent than that.”
Valerie snorted loudly at that.
He frowned at her. “Do you have something to say?”
“If you are a decent human being, I’m the Virgin Mary.” She paused and pointed at her swollen belly before continuing. “And this… here… is baby Jesus ready to be born.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and for a moment, she thought he might smile. But his face stayed serious.
“You seem to have a sharp tongue, little lady,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I guess what they say about red-headed girls is true.”
Valerie rolled her eyes.
Antonio’s gaze narrowed, his demeanor shifting from playful to intense. “But let’s not forget why we’re here,” he continued, his voice low and commanding.
“I don’t have your stupid codes,” Val barked.
Antonio’s expression remained unreadable for a moment before he leaned back in his chair, seemingly unfazed by her outburst. “That’s a shame,” he replied calmly. “Because I have reason to believe otherwise.”
Val had something smartass to say. It was at the tip of her tongue but she stopped.
Because the room suddenly felt hot. Val gripped the edge of the chair. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and her heart pounded in her chest.
Antonio leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table between them. “Is there a problem, Signorina?” he asked, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he watched her squirm. “Did I catch you in a lie? You know where the paper is, don’t you, Bella?”
Val shook her head vehemently. “No, no, I don’t, asshole.”
“Then why do you look uncomfortable?” Antonio pointed out.
“Just hot, that’s all,” she mumbled, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. The room was suffocatingly warm now, and she glanced around helplessly.
Was it her imagination, or was everything beginning to sway?
Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen, making her gasp and clutch at her stomach. Her dress was suddenly wet, and she looked down in shock.
Her water had broken.