The Don's Baby: A Bad Boy Romance (25 page)

 

I felt tears squeeze out of the corners of my eyes. It was
her
. What kind of sick human being would target and kill an old man…for nothing?

 

“Why?” I asked her, crying.

 

“Because I knew it would ruin you. I knew it would send you on a downward spiral. What I didn’t know was that Marcelo would stick it out. He was supposed to get rid of you. He was supposed to become frustrated and want more for himself. That was the time that he would come back to me because you would be too grief stricken to offer him anything as a wife anymore.”

 

She was crazy. She was
nuts
. I knew what it was like to love Marcelo, but this was something else. How could she act this way about a man who had used her like she was a piece of Kleenex and then go on to marry somebody else? Hadn’t he said it enough times and clearly enough for her to understand? What the hell was wrong with her?

 

I was scared before, but now I was terrified. She had killed my father…and she was here to kill my husband. She had a gun in her hand and she was crazy. If I said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing, I would be next.

 

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Marcelo

 

There was a time in my life that seeing Alana’s car excited me.

 

If her car was somewhere, it meant
she
was there. The more I thought about it, there were not very many encounters that I had had with Alana that were not sexual. We were not
friends
. We used to fuck and that was about it. We tried a few times to date, but it never ended up working because again, we weren’t friends. We didn’t like each other like that—and there weren’t enough things we wanted to discuss with each other for any sort of real friendship to be able to develop. Was she interesting as a person? Perhaps. But I had never really seen that side of her. It just wasn’t right. It wasn’t her fault—and it wasn’t my fault. It was just the truth. There was no use trying to force something when it was literally being rejected by both parties.

 

She had used to do this shit where she would wait for me in my house and she would leave her clothes in a trail, leading to wherever it was that she was waiting for me, naked. She used to have a key, but she didn’t anymore. I had asked for it back and had the locks changed since Sophie and I had gotten together. We had had some fun together in the past, but it was over now. The sight of Alana’s very expensive silver Mercedes outside my house right then, sent a shiver up my spine. She was at the house—and she was not alone. She was there with Sophia. The two of them were
not
friends. They were not anything; there was no way that the woman had come over to see my wife. If she had, it was definitely
not
because she wanted to congratulate her on the baby.

 

Something was not right.

 

I circled the block and parked a few houses down. I stepped out of the car and called Sophia’s phone. Nothing. I tried again. She wasn’t ignoring the calls, but she was not answering the phone. There was no way that she couldn’t have torn herself from Alana, even for a second to answer a phone call?
Something
was wrong.

 

Walking up to the house, I stayed low. There were two ground-floor windows that I would have been able to see the women through if they were downstairs. I held my breath, peering through the window. I saw Sophia, she was sitting in a chair. Alana was stalking around the room with a gun in her hand.

 

Oh shit.

 

I ducked down before she had a chance to see me. I had to do something. How long had she been here? Was she waiting for me? Was she trying to hold Sophia hostage in order to get to me? What was happening?

 

My mind raced and I felt fear,
true
fear, sit in the pit of my stomach. Sophia was in trouble. She was in trouble and it was my crazy ex who was responsible for it. She was talking, a lot of what she was saying was muffled, but I caught some of it. She was talking about Sophie’s dad. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was hard to deny something that you are hearing with your own two ears.

 

I had known this woman for years. I would go as far as to say that we were friendly, not
friends
but definitely not enemies. This changed everything. The moment she first opened her mouth to disrespect my wife had changed everything. Maybe she didn’t think it was that serious, but I had a feeling she wasn’t in her right mind at the moment. I had to stop her.

 

I decided to go around back.

 

Going in through the front door would either startle her and make her pull that trigger, or it would just be me playing right into her trap, whatever that might be. I needed to get a jump on her so that she couldn’t ambush me and so she couldn’t do anything rash.

 

I had my gun with me so that was good. I didn’t want to shoot Alana, but I would if she forced me to do that. Why did she have to go and do all this? Why was ‘no’ such a bitter pill for her to swallow? If Sophia got hurt or was already hurt, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. There was no way this was going to end in casualties. The back door led into the kitchen. I could go in and slide into the great room where they both were unnoticed if I watched where she was in the room and was careful.

 

From inside the house, I heard the conversation they were having a lot more clearly.  Alana was shouting while Sophia’s voice was calm and measured. I felt the powerful urge to take my gun out and just stop Alana right there. I was a good shot, but shooting at Alana was not an option when Sophia was so close to her. She sounded crazy, who knew what she would do if she heard the gun but I ended up missing. Sophia hung in the balance and she was absolutely not going to suffer because of this. Because of me.

 

If Alana was a guy, I would have killed her already, no question. If she was a man, she would have been history the first time she decided to try my wife and me.  I watched Alana circle around the room like she was a vulture, waiting to pick the meat off Sophia’s bones. How was I
ever
attracted to her?

 

I sighed. We all make mistakes. I put my gun back in its holster and moved towards the great room. I was going to get her. I just hoped she wouldn’t get Sophia first.

 

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Sophia

 

There was no possible resolution to this that was positive.

 

I had lost track of time and Alana was beginning to get impatient. She kept looking up at the clock that was mounted on the wall and the Cartier timepiece on her wrist, pacing up and down the room with increased agitation.

 

“Where is he?” she said out loud. She was clearly stressed and annoyed, and it made me more worried that the gun was still in her hand as she moved her arms around. “Did you tell him I was here?”

 

“No, how could I? I've been sitting here this entire time,” I told her. She looked at me suspiciously and swore under her breath. Whatever patience she had had coming into this was wearing thin—and now she was just mad. She was mad and I was most likely the person that she was going to take her anger out on.

 

“You know, he never liked girls who looked like you,” she said, stopping and looking at me. Now, that just wasn’t
fair
. She caught me at a bad time. I was pregnant and recovering from the death of my father. Excuse me if I didn’t think taking a straightener to my hair or putting makeup on was one of my priorities at the moment. She was in designer clothes from head to toe and didn’t have a human being growing inside of her. I wanted to roll my eyes at her. There were more than a few physical differences between us, but that didn’t matter. I saw the way that Marcelo looked at me. The way he put his hands on me and the way we made love. It didn’t matter whether he liked girls that looked like me because he liked
me
and that was the only person he had any business liking anyway. I knew she was full of shit, but I wasn’t going to say anything that would make her madder than she already was.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked her, playing along.

 

“You’re way too big for him. He likes skinny girls. Taller too. Girls that look like models, you know?” she said, stroking her own hair and then flipping it over her shoulder.

 

“I had no idea,” I said, tired.

 

“I figured. You don’t know a lot of things about him. I mean, it’s not
your
fault. You wouldn’t, you know, because your marriage is
fake
and all.”

 

God, she was unbearable. No wonder Marcelo only kept her around to fuck her.

 

“He liked to watch me with other girls,” she said. I wanted to check out then. I didn’t need to hear the dirty details of Marcelo’s past sex life with other women, but I couldn’t provoke her, not when she was the one with her finger on the trigger.

 

“Watch you do what?” I asked innocently.

 

“Have
sex
, obviously,” she spat before laughing. “He’s never asked you to bring anyone to bed? Don’t worry, he will. It’s what he likes. I can’t believe you didn’t know that. His dad made a horrible selection. Really.”

 

I was weary at this point. I didn’t want her words to get to me, but to be frank, they were. I knew, cognitively that they meant nothing, that her word was garbage against Marcelo’s, but I was getting tired. I wouldn’t be able to take too much more of her jabs when I was this emotionally drained. Was she trying to provoke me so she could get me to attack her first, shoot me, and then plead self-defense? At one point I would have thought she was above that but not anymore.

 

“Alana, what do you want with me? If you’re mad at Marcelo, be mad at Marcelo. Tell him how you feel so you can resolve this. It doesn’t have to be this messy, and it doesn’t have to be a fight. All of this is unnecessary.”

 

“No. Don’t you see this is all your fault! This is because of you. It had to come to this because of
you
. Before you came along, he was mine! He was mine and you ruined it!” she screamed. I grimaced a little because she was getting louder and louder. Her arms were flailing around and the gun was too. “If I can’t have him, neither can you. I’m not going to let you take him from me.”

 

This was hopeless. I had thought initially that if she wanted me dead, then I would already be dead. She had been stalling, saying she was waiting for Marcelo, but she was growing more erratic by the minute. Who knew what she would do next? Especially when she was this keyed up. It was no use. She brought a gun with her—and whether it went off on purpose or by mistake,
someone
was getting shot today—and it was not going to be me.

 

She was increasingly distracted and she was getting madder by the second. She was taller than I was, but she was on those heels, her center was off. I could rush her and take her down. There was no way she was stronger than me, pregnant or not. I could get the gun out of her hands.

 

I watched her make a revolution around the room, passing behind me. I reached for my phone in my waistband and stopped the recording, taking the phone out and carefully placing it on the seat next to me. I peered over my shoulder and saw her with her back to me. It was my chance. Just as she turned to head towards me again, I saw Marcelo come up quietly behind her and pin her arms to her sides so she couldn’t raise them to point the gun. She screamed and tried to spin around and see who it was. I ran up and took the gun from her.

 

“Call the police,” he said to me. He held Alana’s hands behind her back. She flailed and struggled to get free. I dialed 9-1-1 and hurriedly told them the address and what was happening.

 

“Marcelo,
stop
, don’t call the cops. I was waiting for you. Don’t—”

 

“You came to my house and threatened my wife with a gun, Alana. The only way you’re walking out of here will be in cuffs.” I realized I was panting and looked down at myself. I sat down slowly as the shock of the moment lifted and I began feeling the terror and fear that had been going through me.

 

“Sophia?
Sophia
?”

 

I looked over at him. He was still holding Alana still; they were both on the ground.

 

“Don’t move, Sophie. Just breathe. Don’t move.”

 

I tried to count slowly from one hundred, matching my inhale with an even number and my exhale with an odd. I soon heard the sirens and heard the police barging in. The next thing I felt was Marcelo’s strong arms wrap around me and pull me into his solid body. I completely broke then, crying hard into his chest.

 

“It’s okay; it’s all over,” he said to me softly. He stroked my hair and back, supporting me against his body. An officer was standing near us, waiting to get a statement from me.

 

“Do you know this woman?” she asked.

 

“Yes, she was a former friend of my family,” Marcelo said.

 

“Any idea what motivated this attack?”

 

I shrugged, not really wanting to say she was a jealous, crazy bitch who wanted to kill my husband because he had chosen me over her.

 

“Can you please tell us the events of what happened from when she first showed up?”

 

“Is there a way you can ask her these questions at another time?” Marcelo snapped. I put my hand on his arm to calm him down.

 

“It’s okay, babe. I just want this to be over. I’ll talk to them,” I told him. He went and sat at the dining table with the officer and me so I could tell her what had happened.

 

“Alana had come by earlier. She had come by looking for my husband, but he wasn’t in. She got very upset and she left. Not long after that, she returned and she had a gun with her. She made me sit in a chair in the great room and just yelled at me, saying she was waiting for my husband. Saying she was going to shoot him and she was going to make me watch. That was when Marcelo just appeared from the back and he restrained her so I could take the gun.”

 

The woman looked like she was taking notes. She wasn’t a detective, just a regular officer. They wouldn’t really have to carry out an investigation because nothing had happened really. There hadn’t been a murder, and Alana had been caught before anything too drastic could happen.

 

“Did she force her way in?”

 

“No. Both times she was at the door and I let her in. The second time I let her in because I thought she was Marcelo. I… earlier, before Marcelo came… she had me in the chair, she was going on and on. She admitted to killing my dad. I have it all recorded.”

 

“On your phone?”

 

I nodded.

 

“We’re going to have to take that in as evidence if you guys want to press charges and take her to court.”

 

I nodded, handing the phone over without another question. That was what was going to do it. The recording was what was going to put her away. The house emptied soon and Marcelo started fussing over me asking what had happened.

 

“Just what I told the officer,” I told him. We were sitting on one of the couches in the great room and my head was resting on his chest.

 

“She left and came back immediately?”

 

“Almost. She showed up the first time, and when she left, that was when I called you. When I heard a car outside, I thought it was yours, and that was why I opened the door. That was a mistake because she got in.”

 

“Did she hurt you?”

 

“No, she didn’t even threaten to shoot me. She kept asking for you. She wanted to kill you and make me watch.”

 

“Why would she want to do that?”

 

“You distanced yourself from her and she took it as a personal insult,” I said, knowing that wasn’t the whole truth.

 

“I told her to back off. But that’s not a good excuse to do all this. I can't believe she would do something else after the fiasco with the pictures.”

 

“Well, she’s had two months to plan it. I’m just glad that she found me here and not you.”

 

“Don’t say that, babe.”

 

“I’m serious. You didn’t hear her talking.” I put a hand on his chest and the thought settled. I could have
lost
him today. He was faster than her and had seen her coming, but what if he hadn’t? How would I have been able to take losing him and my father in such a short span of time?

 

“What was she saying?” he asked me.

 

“She was talking about how she was the one who was supposed to be your wife. She went on and on about how it was her you loved and I just got in the way. If she couldn’t have you, then I sure as hell wouldn’t. She sounded like a crazy person. It was awful.”

 

“She’s not coming near you again, Sophie.
Never
.”

 

“She also said…” I trailed off, afraid to let him know that this was what I was feeling. I didn’t want to let Alana’s words get to me, but they had.

 

“What?”

 

“She said that I was not your type. That you didn’t like girls who looked like me, and I looked like a troll in my wedding dress,” I said, feeling small and embarrassed. What the hell did Alana know anyway? She had been trying to get to me, and she had done it. There was also the fact that I was pregnant and gaining weight which didn’t help.

 

“She was trying to make you jealous, Sophie. Look at me,” he said. I looked at him, and I was taken aback by his gaze for a second. The darkness of his eyes just amplified whatever was showing through them, just then, it was passion. “You’re the one I love and you are the one I chose.”

 

“Our
parents
arranged our marriage, Marcelo.”

 

“But that’s all they did. They might have led us to each other, but I made the choice to stay here with you and give us a real shot. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and kissed me sweetly.

 

There it was.

 

I wasn’t even going to bring it up because I didn’t need to anymore. I wanted to know what I meant to him outside of what our fathers had arranged and he told me. He wanted me—and I wanted him. He wanted to stay married to me. The surge of emotion pushed new tears from my eyes as I let him kiss me. It felt so powerful to be loved by him. The affirmation of my own feelings for him felt powerful and deeply passionate. I wrapped my arms around him, tangling my fingers in his hair and letting them trail down over his shoulders and arms. I reveled in the feel of his hard body under my hands. I wanted to feel him close to me, as close as he could get.

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