Chapter 2 Carolina AlcâNtara

• Carolina Alcântara
• The atmosphere in the car is tense; I know if I had talked to Bruno on the plane, we would have had a massive fight. Thankfully, he went straight to Rio to stay with our children.
• I need to calm myself before Laís and Matheus get here. My daughter is sharp and will sense that something is wrong. No matter how much I remind myself that Bruno was drugged, I can’t close my eyes without seeing the scene of him screwing that girl.
• Years ago, I bought a house in Miami so we’d always have a place to stay when Laís came to spend half the year studying with her friend Helena. I bought it, so I wouldn’t have to stay in a hotel.
• Now, I’m in my bedroom, restless, feeling hot and as if something is missing. I can’t sleep. I glance at the empty side of the bed, the same spot that used to belong to my ex-muscle head.
• Another lonely tear rolls down my cheek as I feel the weight of his absence. I turn onto my back and slide into the middle of the bed, hoping that maybe my mind will accept that now, it’s just me.
• I take a deep breath and try to find some logic behind whoever tried to separate me from my husband. Unfortunately, they succeeded. For now, there’s no chance of us being a couple again. Bruno has lost my trust, and he might never regain it.
• We’re mafiosos, how can I trust the man who slept with another woman, even if he was high on a ton of opium? He shouldn’t have drunk from those damn bottles.
• When I glance at the clock on the nightstand, it’s still only 2 a.m. My stomach churns, and a wave of nausea suddenly hits me. I rush to the bathroom, bend over the toilet, and vomit the little I have in my stomach. The spasms leave me dizzy, and I sit on the cold floor, trying to calm myself.
• My mind begins to spin with reasons for this nausea, and I remember I haven’t returned to my gynecologist to get my quarterly contraceptive shot. Things escalated quickly with the intermediaries Liam sent to arrange a marriage for Laís, and I missed my appointment.
• I can’t believe I’m pregnant now, of all times, just when I’ve separated from him!
• I started doing the math to figure out how far along I might be, but it’s complicated. I haven’t had a period in months. I’ll have to book an appointment with a gynecologist and get an ultrasound here in Miami. Once I know for sure, I’ll tell him what’s happening.
• I’m 36 years old, a mature and successful woman. I have no reason to worry about raising a child on my own. This baby will be loved by me, and I’m sure, by their father too.
• I can’t deny that Bruno has always been a good father, present in raising both Laís and Matheus. My children have a vastly different upbringing than I did, especially since I didn’t have a father around. My dad left my mom for another woman who was already pregnant with his child when I was very young.
• I get off the floor, rinse my mouth, and decide to head to the kitchen. By this hour, Hassan or Frank has probably gone to rest. I quietly open the door and walk downstairs, my thoughts swirling.
• As if the mess with my ex-husband wasn’t enough, now I’m pregnant by him. And I still have to negotiate my divorce with the organization, which I’m sure will make things as difficult as possible.
• I stop in my tracks when I catch the scent of freshly brewed coffee. I glance down at my outfit—it’s just a nightgown, and worse, it’s see-through. With more skin exposed than fabric covering me, I refuse to go back upstairs.
• To my surprise, Hassan is in the kitchen, wearing flannel pants and an unbuttoned shirt. I can’t tear my eyes away from his sculpted abs. My foolish, broken heart starts pumping oxytocin, fueled by my betrayed brain, at an abnormal rate.
• My nipples stiffen, and my breasts feel warm, longing to be touched or maybe it’s just a reaction to an excess of pregnancy hormones, assuming I’m actually pregnant.
• I step closer to him, and he startles when he notices me, fumbling to button up his shirt. I move behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder as I reach for the cupboard where the cups are stored. I need something to soothe the lingering nausea.
• “Don’t worry about it. I’m just Carol, a grown woman, freshly separated and full of hormones…” I try to hide my face from my bodyguard.
• I stand on tiptoes to grab the cup, which is annoyingly just out of reach. I hear his footsteps as he steps behind me, lowering my gaze when his arm brushes past me to grab the damn cup.
• “I think I should leave, ma’am. This isn’t appropriate…” Hassan says, so close that I feel the tiny hairs on my skin standing on end.
• “I couldn’t sleep. My traitorous mind is enjoying torturing me, Hassan…” I admit, still facing away, embarrassed by how vulnerable I am in front of another man.
• “I just made coffee. Frank had to check on something at Mrs. Carrillo’s house and will be back shortly to ensure your safety,” he explains. I nod silently. “Please don’t turn around until I leave the kitchen. I respect you as my lady, and it’s my duty to protect you…”
• I shake my head and turn toward him. He’s still standing so close that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My eyes only reach the height of his chest, which somehow excites me.
• “Right now, I don’t want protection, Hassan. I want to forget my problems.” I lift my gaze, meeting his dark eyes.
• His beard is long and impeccably groomed, it’s clear he takes good care of himself. And he’s so much taller than me. I find myself breathless as the tension between us begins to build.
• "You know that tomorrow, if something happens, you'll regret it, and I'll probably be fired by Mrs. Carrillo, and soon after, your husband will kill me." I smile at his statement.
• He says it with a certain humor, looking into my eyes, while I gaze at his lips, wishing he'd touch me.
• "I'll never fire you. If I regret it, I'll come back in the middle of the night for another coffee, just to remind myself why you were incredibly attractive." I say as I raise my hand to touch his chest.
• "Ma'am..." I don't let him finish what he was about to say.
• "Carol, please, not 'ma'am,' not now. I just want to be a woman, not a title or someone with importance." He nods in agreement.
• His steps begin to push me against the counter. I take a deep breath just to control the frantic pulse racing through me at this moment.
• Hassan holds my hand against his chest, and I feel his heartbeat as fast as mine. I believe he's as nervous and undecided as I am. But I just want to forget everything that's happened over the past few weeks. I want to forget that I've been betrayed, forget that I'm no longer the goddess of the man I chose to be my husband and the father of my children.
• "Are you sure? Because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once I start kissing you. I'm not a man who lets himself be dominated by a woman, Carol. I'm a man who loves to tame a woman..." he says, almost whispering, close to my lips.
• "I just want to forget..." At that moment, his lips meet mine. I can't help but compare the differences between them.
• I surrender to his kisses. His hands move to my waist, lifting me and sitting me on the cold counter in front of him. I open my legs so he can settle between them. My hands go to the back of his neck, and I press myself against his body, feeling the wetness between my legs begin to increase.
• I hear his moans, which only make me more excited. His lips leave mine and begin to travel down my neck.
• "Are you sure, Carol?" He continues to ask me. I just nod because, if I stop to think, I know I'll pull back. "Feel what this nightgown does to me."