“You’re telling me you were pregnant for nine fucking months and never made a phone call?” James breathed through gritted teeth, never taking his eyes off of the baby in the car seat in front of him.

You crossed your arms over your chest—of course you didn’t call. Your relationship with the mafia boss ended poorly. Really poorly. You didn’t even know you were pregnant until you had moved back upstate. You were too prideful to tell James, too selfish.

But at least you were here now, right?