His Sleep Talk Named His Goomah,So I Took Everything

"I know." I nodded, sweet as anything. Inside, I was sneering.

Go on, then. Run off to your kept woman's prenatal appointment.

The moment Damian left, I drove straight to the Valente front operation. As a Moretti with blood ties to every legitimate business the Family backed, I had every reason to walk through that door. My father's name was on the silent ledger that kept those lights on.

Sure enough, a young woman sat at the front desk. Elena Caruso.

She was even prettier in person than in the photos. Long hair, clear eyes, the kind of face that looked like it couldn't hurt a fly. Who would ever guess that this sweet-faced girl was the kind of woman who went after other people's husbands?

"Hello, how can I help you?" She smiled brightly, her voice crisp and pleasant.

"I'm here to see Damian Valente." I studied her with practiced casualness. She wore a loose-fitting business outfit, but even so, the slight swell of her belly was unmistakable. She was already showing.

"He's in a meeting. May I ask who you are?"

"Adriana Moretti." I gave my name and watched her expression shift.

Of course she knew who I was. Damian Valente's legal wife. The Don's daughter.

"Mrs. Valente! One moment, please. I'll notify him right away." She scrambled for the phone. I could hear her lowering her voice: "Mr. Valente, your wife is here."

Damian hurried out moments later, a stiff smile plastered across his face.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" His eyes darted to Elena.

"Thought I'd check out your workspace. Maybe we could grab lunch together." I slipped my arm through his.

"Sure, let's head up to the restaurant upstairs." He was already steering me toward the elevator, eager to get me away from the lobby. A soldier stationed near the entrance gave a small nod as we passed. Even here, in the building my father's money had furnished, Damian couldn't forget who really owned the ground beneath his shoes.

Once the doors closed, I asked lightly, "That receptionist was cute. How old is she?"

"No idea. Some new intern, just started recently." Damian answered too fast. He wet his lower lip before adding, "I don't really pay attention to that stuff."

"Mm." I nodded, filing his lie away with all the others.

Over lunch, I played the concerned wife, asking if work had been stressful, if he'd been feeling okay. He ate the food I put on his plate and said, all warmth and gratitude, "Nobody takes care of me like you do. I'm so lucky to have you."

Watching that performance almost made me gag.

"Oh, that reminds me," I said, as though the thought had just occurred to me. "A friend mentioned a new development over on the east side of the territory that's supposed to be really nice. Should we go look at places?"

Damian's fork froze mid-air. "Look at places? Our apartment is perfectly fine."

"It's a bit small, though. If we have kids someday, we'll need more room." I kept my tone casual, testing him.

His face visibly tightened. "No rush on kids. We've got enough financial pressure as it is."

Funny how financial pressure wasn't a concern when he was buying a house for his kept woman.

"You're right. We can wait." I agreed on the surface. But I'd seen every ugly inch of his true face now, and I'd seen it clearly.

I turned my wedding band once with my thumb under the table, slow and deliberate, swallowing the fury before it could reach my eyes.

That afternoon, I excused myself to use the restroom and made a point of passing the front desk. Elena was chatting with a colleague. I heard her say, "The doctor said the baby's perfectly healthy. Due date's at the end of the year."

"You're so lucky, Elena. Your boyfriend spoils you rotten. Bought you a place, takes care of everything," the colleague said enviously.

"He promised we'd get married once the baby's born." Elena's face glowed with happiness.

Married?

I nearly laughed. He hadn't even divorced me yet, and he was already promising to marry someone else. Hadn't even gone before my father to ask for a dissolution, and he was making vows in whispers to a girl behind a reception desk.

That was when Elena spotted me. The color drained from her face instantly.

"Mrs. Valente." She stumbled to her feet, voice catching.

I walked over, smile perfectly in place. "Elena, right? Pregnant? Congratulations."

She instinctively shielded her belly. "Thank you, Mrs. Valente."

"The baby's father treats you well?" I pressed gently.

"He does." She couldn't meet my eyes.

"Good. A young woman should hold on to what's real." I let my gaze settle on her. "Don't let some scumbag deceive you."

I turned and walked away.