If I had been brought sooner. If the Don of the Sloane family had stopped his car instead of shielding his aide's eyes from the sight of me bleeding on the pavement. If he had carried me to the back seat the way he carried Penelope's shopping bags and dry-cleaning and whatever else she needed ferried from place to place. If he had done any single thing differently.
But he hadn't. And the baby was gone.
Seeing the blank expression on my face, Dominic frowned and started walking over to check what I was doing.
But just then, his phone buzzed.
His lips curved into a smile, and without a second thought, he turned and disappeared into his study. The door closed with the soft, definitive click of a man entering the only room in the house where he actually wanted to be.
Once he was out of sight, I opened up my private account and scrolled through his feed. Sure enough, there was a new post, visible to everyone but me. He had blocked me from seeing it. The Don of one of the most powerful syndicates on the Eastern Seaboard, and he was hiding social media posts from the woman who shared his bed like a teenager with a secret.
It was an apology letter.