Trapped (Sinners of Boston #5)

36. Santino

THIRTY-SIX

SANTINO

Delilah walked to her car, her pace quick but composed. She paused beside the driver’s door, taking out her phone. She typed something, then put the phone away and drove off.

My phone vibrated. I pulled it from my pocket.

Principessa

Done with errands, heading home now.

My jaw tightened. What was so important that she had to see her father without telling me? What was she hiding?

I started my car and followed her. The drive back was a blur of dark thoughts. Every turn reminded me of the distance growing between us.

I parked my car in our building’s garage and headed up to our floor. I stormed into our bedroom, yanking open the door to the bathroom. I opened a drawer. I grabbed another pink box, and then I noticed the stick in the trash.

Two lines. Clear as day.

My heart spasmed.

Pregnant. She was pregnant.

She must’ve taken another test. When? Why did she take a test without telling me? She was keeping secrets. Was the pregnancy only one of them?

Delilah walked in, her face pale. Her gaze flicked to the pregnancy test in my hand.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

She flinched. “I just found out.”

“Jesus, enough with the lying. I found it in the trash.” I slammed it onto the counter.

She picked it up, her expression impassive. “I was going to tell you.”

“Your lies are getting more desperate, principessa.”

“I’m not lying!”

“You’ve been keeping things from me. First your father, now this. I thought we were past this shit.”

Delilah’s fierce gaze stabbed into me. “I had to ask him something.”

“Like for his help getting away from me?”

“It wasn’t about you.”

Sure, I believe that .

I sneered, cornering her against the counter. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the box. My thumb popped it open, and I grabbed the ring. Then I took her wrist and slid it onto her finger.

“We’re getting married in a month.”

She bared her teeth. “That’s not a proposal.”

“We are having a baby. We need to get married.”

She took off the ring and put it on the counter. “First of all, no, we don’t. And secondly, I don’t want to get married while our families are at each other’s throats.”

“It’s the best right thing to do.”

“For who?”

“The baby,” I fumed. “You’ll wear my ring, walk down the aisle, eat some cake, and smile for the photographers. And then, when it’s all over, you can go back to lying with every breath.”

“You’re being an unreasonable prick!”

“You think I’m bad now? Just wait until our kid is born.”

She paled. “I took the test today. I was going to tell you, I swear.”

“That’s convenient.”

Her eyes misted over, probably upset I’d caught her in a lie. It took a lot to make her shed tears. I’d only seen her this upset the time she came into Afterlife. She’d bypassed the line of peasants and demanded a private audience. I took her into a different room, and as soon as the door closed, she fell apart. So many people approached me with a sob story, lying their asses off, that I was prepared to just dismiss her outright.

Delilah hadn’t lied about her story, but she had withheld information. She pretended to be into me and used her body to get what she wanted. And it worked every fucking time. I belonged to her. I thought that meant we were good together.

Maybe I was wrong.

A fat tear rolled down her flawless cheek. “Santino, I’m not trying to leave you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I swear?—”

I let go of her chin, sneering. “It’s like you said. This relationship was always about money. Securing your future.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Do you even care who you’re fucking? As long as you get what you want?” A dark flush spread across her cheeks, and a mean flare of victory heated my chest. “I did see this coming. It’s not like I didn’t know exactly what you are.”

The second those words landed, I knew they’d hurt. I felt the pain inside me as I saw it reflected on her face.

“That’s rich, coming from you. You used your money to control me from the beginning, and now you want to act like I’m the one to blame?”

“You didn’t hesitate to take it. You’ve been using me since the start.”

Delilah’s eyes flashed. “I needed you. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I stepped closer, towering over her. “You wanted me to think you were a gold digger, and now you’re pissed when I throw it back in your face? That’s on you, Delilah.”

Her lip trembled, but she clenched her jaw. I should’ve stopped, but I couldn’t. The rage burned too hot inside me.

“You want to talk about trust? You’ve been lying to me since the day we met. Hiding things, going behind my back, always keeping your secrets close. What else are you hiding from me?”

I saw the exact moment I crossed the line. It hit something deep inside her. She shut down, her entire body tensing like she was trying to protect herself.

“Delilah.”

It was too late. I’d already lit the fuse. Delilah stepped back, her body rigid. Nostrils flaring, she stormed out of the room. Banging sounds erupted in the kitchen. She’d thrown open all the cabinet doors and was rifling through the shelves in the pantry, searching desperately.

My heart ached. “Fuck.”

She set aside bottles of olive oil and canola, probably looking for cooking wine. No use. I’d thrown all that shit out. Regret formed a ball in my throat.

“Can we talk about this?”

“Why bother? I’m just a whore to you.”

I winced. “I didn’t say that.”

“You say I’m the one using you,” she hurled back, her arm knocking over the bottles of cooking oil. “But you act like you can buy me, like I’m not even a real person.”

I rubbed my face. “Delilah?—”

“Just leave me alone, Santino.”

Guilt sat heavy in my lungs.

“Delilah, there’s no alcohol in the house.”

She wasn’t listening. She still rooted around, searching behind cans of garbanzo beans for a drop of alcohol that didn’t exist. Finally, she stopped, slumping on the kitchen floor. She bowed her head in her hands, and her shoulders shook.

I couldn’t stand this. I was crumbling inside. I opened my mouth to fix the rift tearing us apart. But what could I say? That I was scared? That every fear was tied up in her? That I didn’t know how to love without also trying to control?

Delilah wiped her cheeks, her gaze hardening. “If I’m just a gold digger to you, then maybe you’re right, and there’s nothing left for us here.”

My stomach sank. “Do you remember when we first met?”

She nodded, sniffing.

“When you walked in Afterlife, you changed my life forever. You were all dressed up. Tight skirt, hair done up, makeup. So beautiful. I’d never seen anything so perfect. And when you told me your last name, I couldn’t believe you’d come to me. You walked right up to me. I didn’t just see a beautiful woman who needed to be saved. I saw bravery. You were fierce. I’ve watched you struggle and fight. You never back down. Then, when you arrived at the hotel, dressed up like a bride…” I smiled, the memory glowing in my chest. “Right then, I knew I’d met my match.”

Delilah scoffed. “You used me for sex.”

“I was just trying to hold on to you. I used what I had—money. I thought if I could get you to stay, maybe you’d see something worth staying for.”

She snorted. “You dangled money in front of me, used my body like it was your right, and now you’re telling me it was because you cared?”

I met her gaze head-on. “I grew up in a world where you take what’s yours and hold on to it with both hands. And yeah, I used what I had to keep you. But that’s because I knew you were worth it.”

Delilah’s glare softened for a moment. “You don’t get it. This isn’t about whether I’m worth it to you. It’s about whether I’m safe with you.”

“You are.”

Her lips quivered, and she shook her head. “Get out.”

My chest caved in. “What?”

“You need to leave. I need to think about what’s best for me.”

“You want me to go?”

She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Please.”

A stabbing pain throbbed in my gut. I’d always been afraid of this. She saw me as just another version of the men who’d controlled her. It was like everything I’d done had become unrecognizable. She saw me as a threat, not a refuge.

I loved her more than anything. She wasn’t just a means to an end. She was the center of my world. How could I make her see that?

“I’ll go. If that’s what you need.”

“It is,” she ground out.

I turned around and headed out. Part of me wanted to fight, but it wouldn’t make her see me any differently. I paused at the door, hoping for some sign of change, not the silence filling the space between us. Then I stepped out, closing the door behind me.