Unspoken Obsession (Casino King #4)

3. Francesca

FRANCESCA

I wake up with a hangover and I can't remember drinking at all. A wave of nausea tightens my stomach and I throw myself out of bed and bolt to the bathroom - only just making it in time.

I gasp for air, my head hanging over the toilet bowl. What the fuck did I eat?

I only had lasagna yesterday and that wouldn't be off. It's never made me sick before.

I stand up, flushing away the horrible experience, and then wash my face with cold water. I splash it over my cheeks and take deep breaths to stop the nausea from bubbling up again. Ugh, I hope this is not a bug.

What is wrong with me?

Pressing my hand against my stomach, I groan. It hurts.

I get dressed -- pulling the long cream dress over my shoulders, running my hands over the soft cotton, and closing my eyes for a moment.

I'll be ok. It must just be a tummy bug or some plague going around.

Downstairs, someone is brewing coffee, and the smell is disgusting. I love coffee. Why is it so gross? Never in my life could I imagine being disgusted by coffee. I need it to survive.

I walk down the stairs towards the kitchen, wondering if I should make a ginger tea. Nausea disappears as though it was never there. I'm fine.

What in the world is going on - that makes no sense at all.

I press my hand against my stomach again. Maybe it's my period - I'm due to - no - oh no -

Panic surges through me.

I was supposed to start two weeks ago.

I'm late. And I'm throwing up first thing in the morning.

Oh shit. Oh no. this cannot be happening.

I turn back towards the stairs and run up to my bedroom again, grabbing my phone and my handbag. I need to get to a pharmacy.

Luckily, my father is out at meetings this morning, so I can get there and back before he returns home. The security guard that comes with me can wait in the car. He doesn't need to see what I'm getting.

"Keith, I need you to take me to the drugstore, please. I need tampons." I say, walking towards the front door.

"Yes, Ms. Musetti." He's red in the face.

He'll report the trip to my father, and I'll tell my father I needed female products. Easy.

All the way there, my stomach is in a knot.

If I'm pregnant, there is only one potential father. The man at the gala event. The masked stranger. I don't even know his name.

Does it even matter?

How can I keep a baby and raise it in this world - my father's world? A world filled with violence, fear, and death.

The poor child would be in constant danger under the constant and oppressive rule of my father.

It is not a good life. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

My bodyguard parks right outside the pharmacy and gets ready to get out of the car. "You can wait here. I will only be a few minutes." I say, pushing the door open. He looks skeptical for a second but then nods. Thank God.

I hurry inside, grateful that he can't see me through the shop windows. I grab two pregnancy tests and run to the counter to pay for them.

I shove the brown paper packet deep into my purse and walk back out to the car, trying to act calm and casual.

All the way home, I am thinking about my options. I am trying to consider the best possible outcome, the best future, and the best choice to make - and the more I think about it, the more I realize that there is no way I would ever want to give this baby up.

My baby.

I need to keep the little one safe from this horrible world.

At home, I rush upstairs to my bedroom and shut the door.

In the bathroom I open both tests, peeing on both of them, and then I sit on the edge of the bath waiting.

Counting down the seconds, not daring to peek at the results.

My phone beeps - telling me the time is up.

I shake my head, taking a deep breath. "Frankie - you'll be ok, no matter what the result is."

I stand up and walk to the counter and stare down at both tests - both of them say the same thing.

I am pregnant.

It only takes me a few days to decide about what I want for the future of my baby.

When I made choices for myself, accepting my father's word as final was easy, as he made the decisions. However, the choice I need to make now is not about me.

It's about my baby.

And that's why I am leaving Las Vegas.

I spend a week researching and preparing.

I choose a small town, a little place in the middle of nowhere that I've never even heard of - a place where no one will recognize me, and no one will think to find me. I've juggled with the idea of telling my father and not telling my father why I am leaving and where I am going - but I decided on a medium ground between the two. I will tell him why I am leaving, but I will not tell him where I am going.

By telling him why - he will understand my choice and respect it enough to not come chasing after me - but I will keep the location a secret just in case he can't relinquish that control over me he is so desperate to maintain.

I'm writing my father a letter because I'll have to sneak away. There is no other option. The morning I leave my father's house, the sky is still dark. I sneak out and walk farther down the road, out of sight, before the Uber I booked meets me.

My heart is racing with fear when I climb in and toss my one small bag of luggage into the back seat, looking back to see if someone saw me sneaking out.

"To the train station, please," I say with a million knots in my stomach.

A flight to Canada would be faster and more comfortable, but much easier to trace. From now on I live off the map, off grid and hidden.

I travel the long way, stopping and switching trains, catching a lift with a stranger, switching back to the train - and after what seems like an eternity I reach the small cabin at the side of the forest that I've rented using my fake identity.

There is a note pinned to the door by the old lady, who is my landlord.

Welcome, if you need anything, just shout. It's all unlocked and the keys are hanging on the hook inside the door. I'll be going into town on Saturday morning if you want a ride.

I smile. This is a small town where people take care of each other.

Running my hand over my stomach in a protective gesture and whispered, "We are going to be ok here." Then I push the door open and walk into my new home.

A cozy log cabin, with a built-in fireplace and an open plan living room and kitchen area. One small bedroom and views of the forest and the lake on all sides.

I smile.

Despite having to leave everything I'm familiar with and comfortable with behind, I think I will like it here.

Months roll by and my belly seems to grow bigger every time I breathe. I can't believe how quickly my little baby is growing.

I got a job at the local flower shop, and I know everyone in the little town by name. The local farmers come and drop fresh vegetables off every week and on Wednesdays, I play cards with my old landlord. She's so lovely. I get along with her really well.

There is a man who visits the flower shop often, Jake. He has a kind, gentle face and he is always asking me out—but I can't find it in my heart to say yes. It doesn't seem fair to be with someone else while my heart is still so consumed by the man I met at the gala.

But, over time he accepts I am not looking for anything like that and we've become good friends.

I've invited him around for dinner this weekend. It will be nice to talk to someone. My life has been empty and boring since I arrived here. It's so quiet, nothing ever happens.

Life here is the polar opposite of the eventful, wild, and dangerous world I come from. Sometimes I miss it. Others I don't.

Either way, it doesn't matter - because being here is necessary for the safety of my baby and myself.

My eyes are always wide open, always on the lookout for my father's men.

But so far, I've not been bothered by anyone. I don't think it is his choice to leave me alone. I believe he can't find me, despite his valiant efforts.

I doubt it will last very long; he's a resourceful monster.

The fear is a perpetual whisper just beneath the surface. Fear of being dragged back home, fear that he will force me to give up my baby - it is always there.

But there is another whisper that plays with my mind - that mysterious and gorgeous man I met at the casino.

My baby's father.

Over time, what I remember of his face has faded from my memory, but not the way he made me feel. That passion will never leave my heart. Sometimes I wishfully daydream that he would find me, and we will be together. It's a childish notion, as we live in the real world where he more likely forgot about me the moment I walked away.

When I'm not at work, I spend my time walking around the forest and swimming in the icy water of the lake. I tried to keep my garden going, but no one ever taught me how to grow things. I still enjoy murdering the poor innocent plants enough to keep trying.

I write letters to my son, growing by the day, so that one day when he is old enough, he knows who he is and where he came from. I don't know if the letters are for me or for him - sometimes I think it is just my way of trying to let go of who I am.

Even though I've made friends with an entire town out here, I am lonely. None of them have a clue who I am, or what my life was before I came here. I miss the noise and energy of Las Vegas - I miss the colorful lights and noisy casinos. But I don't miss my father. And I don't miss having every moment of my life controlled by him.

As humans, we are so adaptable to change - and I am doing my best to change.

I can survive out here alone.

I don't need my father's support because it comes at a price that is too high.

And I don't need the tender touch of a tall dark stranger that I only met once.

On Friday night I rush around the cute little cabin preparing for my first-ever dinner guest. I'm looking forward to having Jake over and hopefully, it will grow our friendship. I desperately need some real friends out here.

Jake knocks on the open door and sticks his head inside.

"Hello, anyone home?" He calls out.

I peek out from around the kitchen area. "Come in," I say.

He hands me a bouquet of sunflowers and a bottle of honey. "Sorry, I obviously wanted to get you some wine—but—you know." he gestures at my swollen, very pregnant stomach.

I giggle and go welcome him into my home.

Dinner is fun.

Jake is polite and honors my request to be friends and nothing more although I can see longing in his eyes and the constant need to take care of me gives away his true feelings.

Over the years we grow closer, but my feelings never change. I wish they could, but my heart remains forever with the unknown man I met at the gala.