Caleb’s POV
Weeks had passed since that desperate mont with Ivy in the elevator. Her touch still burned through my veins like wildfire, especially after being separated for those torturous months. She continued evading with military precision, using Jude and Gemma as her surveillance network. They’d signal whenever I erged from my office or headed to check on Xavier, giving her perfect escape routes through the compound.
Heidi had returned to help coordinate our upcoming territorial audit. The weekend would bring the crucial family eting that could finally end this organizational nightmare. But today held a different kind of tornt. I had to escort Yara Rossi to her gynecologist appointnt for the first ultrasound. The re thought made my blood run cold.
This appointnt lood like an execution. Every passing hour felt like agony. I couldn’t focus on anything, my mind consud with disgust. I’d been avoiding that manipulative witch entirely, forcing our family lawyer to serve as ssenger for every communication. The poor bastard had essentially beco her personal secretary. Her father Roman had grown disturbingly quiet lately, which triggered every survival instinct I possessed. I’d already warned Xavier and Scott that sothing felt dangerously wrong.
At the appointed ti, Jude knocked on my office door. Ti to descend into my personal hell. I grabbed my jacket with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man. When I reached the dical clinic, that parasitic woman was already there with her mother, launching herself at like a heat-seeking missile. I sidestepped smoothly, watching her crash into the leather couch behind her.
"Darling, what a playful ga. I could have been injured," Yara whined in that voice that could shatter bulletproof glass.
"This isn’t a ga. Stop throwing yourself at like so desperate streetwalker," I snarled, noticing the receptionist attempting to suppress her laughter.
I didn’t acknowledge Yara’s mother Patricia with even a glance. Instead, I positioned myself by the window, studying the street traffic until the doctor called Yara’s na.
The physician approached with an oily smile, extending his hand like we were old family friends.
"You must be the proud father. Congratulations on this wonderful blessing."
I stared at his outstretched hand without moving. Sothing about this man triggered my predatory instincts. His enthusiasm felt rehearsed, calculated. My survival instincts rarely failed in this business, though I wondered if my hatred for Yara was coloring my judgnt.
"Can we proceed, Professor? My ti is extrely valuable," I said with arctic coldness.
The examination room felt like a stage set for so twisted theater production. The doctor bombarded Yara with endless questions before turning his attention to .
"So, daddy, how are you handling those pregnancy cravings? Is mommy keeping you busy?"
I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until his eyes bulged. My expression could have frozen molten lava as I responded.
"She’s not my wife. Whatever cravings she experiences are none of my concern or business."
The doctor’s jaw dropped while Yara rushed to explain we’d be married soon according to family arrangents. I rolled my eyes, wishing I could vanish into the concrete.
Yara disappeared behind a curtain to change, then positioned herself on the examination table like so sacrificial offering. When the ultrasound began, the doctor’s excitent reached nauseating proportions.
"There it is. Your beautiful baby."
"Oh, how absolutely thrilling. Look, sweetheart, our child already has your strong bone structure," Yara shrieked while her mother dabbed at her eyes with expensive tissues.
"For Christ’s sake, woman, it’s nothing but a gray blur on a dical screen." My irritation leaked from every pore, and this circus showed no signs of ending.
"Don’t speak about our child that way, Caleb," Yara scread. She always scread like a banshee.
"Let share sothing truly special with you both," the doctor announced with revolting enthusiasm, adjusting his equipnt. "You’re about to hear your baby’s heartbeat."
The room filled with rapid, rhythmic sounds while Yara exploded into applause and ear-splitting squeals. Mother of God, this woman genuinely terrified . She and her mother created such a spectacle that other patients probably thought soone was being brutally murdered.
"Doesn’t this move you to tears, honey?" Yara asked, flashing those horse teeth at . What temporary insanity had possessed to touch this creature?
"No, I feel absolutely nothing. I never wanted a child with you. I’m here purely because family obligations demand it," I replied with brutal honesty.
"Caleb." Another banshee shriek. "You’re going to traumatize our baby’s emotional developnt before birth."
"Excellent. I’ll add therapy expenses to my financial responsibility ledger." I felt nothing for her or this supposed pregnancy. The realization disturbed because it wasn’t normal. A father should feel sothing when hearing his child’s heartbeat. I’d always envisioned fatherhood, but this situation left completely hollow. With that troubling thought, I walked out.
The appointnt suffocated like being buried alive. Every minute in that room felt like drowning in quicksand. The doctor prescribed vitamins, ordered multiple blood tests, and instructed us to schedule another appointnt soon.
At the reception desk, I handled paynt and scheduling while the receptionist worked efficiently. Along with my receipt, she slipped a card reading "call " with her phone number. Interesting. The receptionist was making her play, but perhaps I could use this to antagonize Yara. She gave a professional smile that I returned. Sothing about her face seed familiar, like I’d encountered her sowhere in the organization, but the thought evaporated when I left the building.
"Sweetheart, you’re taking mother and to dinner at that exquisite French restaurant," Yara announced with such delusional confidence that I actually laughed.
"You’re completely insane if you think I’m going anywhere with either of you parasites," I replied mockingly.
"Caleb," she scread. Another tantrum brewing.
"Caleb, you must at least provide transportation ho. I already dismissed our driver," Patricia interjected. Another woman who thought she could command a mafia Don.
"Since you don’t want the families thinking I’m completely heartless," I walked to the curb and flagged down an approaching taxi. It stopped imdiately. I opened the door with theatrical courtesy. "Your chariot awaits. Taxi service will transport you wherever your black hearts desire."
They stared at in complete shock. I left the door hanging open, walked to my armored vehicle, and drove away. In my rearview mirror, I watched Yara having another complete ltdown while her mother shoved her into the taxi. For the first ti all day, I laughed genuinely, feeling my tension finally dissolve.
I drove straight to Xavier’s compound where he’d organized a poker ga with the crew. He’d planned this distraction after noticing my murderous mood all day. Everyone had already arrived when I walked in. Finn imdiately handed a glass of bourbon with ice.
"So Caleb, how did your date with the devil’s spawn go?" Jude asked with a dangerous smirk.
"Gentlen, you cannot imagine what it’s like dancing with Satan’s own daughter," I said, rembering the horrific afternoon.
I recounted the street scene when leaving the clinic. The crew laughed until tears stread down their faces. Then I described the appointnt and my instinctive distrust of the doctor. Finally, I shared my complete emotional disconnection from this pregnancy.
"You know, guys, I’ve always wanted to be a father, especially after losing my parents to that car bomb. But I feel absolutely nothing, zero emotion, for this supposed baby," I concluded.
"Well, boss, it’s probably because you despise the mother," Dominic suggested.
"I’m not sure. I feel such overwhelming love for Max. My heart nearly explodes when he runs toward with those little arms stretched wide for a hug. I’m so proud of that boy. But for my own supposed child, I feel nothing."
"Maybe because Max is Ivy’s son and you’re obsessed with her," Finn observed.
"I don’t know. What I feel for Max is enormous. The way my heart ignites when he’s with , the pure joy I experience. But with this baby, when the doctor played the heartbeat today, I felt absolutely nothing. Shouldn’t a father feel sothing? Pride? Excitent? Anything?"
"My old man always said when mom was pregnant with , he went crazy with joy and cried over everything baby-related," Xavier shared.
"Sa with mine. That’s why this troubles so much," I admitted.
"Caleb, what if this child isn’t yours?" Jude asked, staring into his glass.
"That’s definitely possible," Xavier agreed. "From what you’ve said, you were extrely intoxicated at that family gathering. Are you certain you actually had intercourse?"
"That psychotic Yara is absolutely capable of orchestrating such a sche," Jude stated.
"We’ve considered that possibility, but the witch refuses DNA testing because they claim it could cause miscarriage," I explained.
"But isn’t there a safer thod for paternity testing?" Dominic asked.
"I honestly don’t know," I said.
"Send that witch’s doctor’s information. My uncle runs the largest private dical facility in the city. I’ll ask him for guidance," Finn offered, surprising .
"That assistance would be invaluable. I’ll text you the details right now." I typed the ssage and sent it imdiately. "If there’s a thod to conduct DNA testing without pregnancy risks, I could pressure her."
"Exactly what my uncle will clarify. I’ll arrange a eting with him," Finn said enthusiastically.
"And you won’t believe this. The receptionist actually propositioned ," I rembered, laughing. "She slipped her contact information."
"Good Christ, did your mother bathe you in pure gold instead of soap?" Jude mocked. "You must be made of solid platinum, Caleb. Won just magnetize to you."
We erupted in laughter, and the crew’s relentless jokes knew no boundaries. My day had been absolute torture, but my brothers managed to salvage my evening completely.
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