Page 140 of Unbreakable Thread

I give him a cheerful smile and turn my attention toward the two men having a conversation about boxing. After Lana spilled wine on her chair, Toby moved her, and now she’s wedged between the two men. Xander’s lips are curled while Toby talks his socks off with a conversation Xander is not interested in. Xander’s hand slowly moves under the table. I’m certain that by the wide eyes Lana has, his hand is planted on her thigh. I avert my gaze toward Leo, his gaze on his plate cutting into his chicken, steam rolling out of it.

“How’s your meal?” I ask Leo.

He shrugs. “Good. They should offer seconds.”

Since he’s been staying with us, the house feels like a home.

Hector and Leo. Although Max complains about privacy, I know he loves having them around.

My gaze catches Drake. Gone is that boy I remember, who was in love with a girl he dreamed a thousand dreams with, only for her to shatter it. Now he carries a scowl on his handsome face. When I ask if he’ll ever fall in love again, he shrugs. It seems she had ruined him. When his gaze catches mine, his smile appears. “Sunny, how are you doing?” Strong arms envelop me in a gentle hug.

“I’m doing pretty good. How have you been? You’re not getting into any trouble, are you?”

He works up a cocky grin. “Trouble is my name, Sunny.”

“Of course you would say that.”

He rubs my belly—it seems to be what everyone does. “How are the little kiddos doing? Are you ready for them?”

Max and I had shopped for the babies a couple of weeks ago. It was the most fun I’ve had shopping, and I know Max felt the same way. Especially with baby clothes. They were the cutest. So tiny. We bought two cribs, two bassinets, two car seats, and so on. His truck was loaded. We haven’t set anything up yet. Max plans on painting the nursery first.

“I’m nervous, but I’m ready.”

“You’ll do great. You both will,” Drake assures me.

I turn my gaze to my fiancé. Two men stop him when he’s near. They appear familiar. Other fighters, probably. Max’s profile has not changed. He still carries the broody structure, his clenched jaw, his eyes give nothing away—closed off. Unreadable. To those in his circle, he gives them a smile that reaches his eyes, and his irises go from a storm greenish-gray to light shining behind them.

When his greens connect with mine, that smirking smile appears. Reserved for me. His irises storm with an untamable love. When we were young, innocent kids, and crushed on one another, I always admired how he only smiled at me, joked around, and he would talk his socks off. To everyone else, he was quiet…reserved. He showed me who he was. I claimed him. He’s mine. He beckons for me to go to him.

I squeeze Drake’s shoulder. “Have a seat, hon. I’ll have them bring you up a plate.” He gives me a small vibrating laugh. I know I sound like an older woman saying “hon” and “honey.” It stuck with me when my adoptive mom would call us that all the time.

“Sure, I’ll save for after the fight.”

Right. That makes me nervous.

Max’s hand placement is on the small of my back as he introduces me to the two men. Former professional boxers. They point to their wives who are out in the crowd mingling. They wander off into the sea of people, and I excuse myself for the restroom. I love being pregnant, but the nausea, uncomfortable sleeping, and peeing are driving me crazy. After washing my hands and disposing of the paper towel, the door swings open. A gasp leaves my lips.

Chapter 41

Sol

The blood drains from my head all the way to my swollen ankles. In my life, I’ve never despised so many men at once, but the one in front of me, I hate just as much as Carlos. I want to say more, but they both carry the same particular betrayal—the kind that comes from someone who was supposed to protect you. In a way, I know how Max feels about Carlos. He felt safe with him. He faked the comfort of a loving father, only to strike when ready.

The man in front of me appears as if he’s aged twenty years. His red hair has gone gray. There was a time when I hung on every word he said. My adoptive mom would always say, “You’re such a dad’s girl.”

Now I know why I was. In my other life, the life that was wholly mine, I would run to my dad when he would return from deployment. I was glued to his hip until he left again. My heart shattered when we received the news that he didn’t make it. He would never come walking in the front door again. The day my mom passed, my world crumbled at my feet. My adoptive parents had the chance to give me an honest life. If they truly cared for me and loved me, they would have done anything to keep my parents’ memory alive. They could have shown me the photo albums and even offered to have Max over to help me remember it all, to trigger my memory, but instead they swept it under the rug.

Men will do anything for money, power, and cheap fucks. “Sweetheart.” Rowan’s downcast eyes plead. “Can we talk for a second?” His gaze shifts to where Max is.

“No, we have nothing to talk about.”

“I’m sorry. I truly am. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” His hushed voice is a whisper to the crowd of people.

“You lied to me for years. We have nothing to talk about. Honestly, I don’t want to see you again. The only thing I can say is thank you for giving me a home and siblings. Other than that, I have nothing to say to you.” Maybe I have a thousand questions, but I don’t want to hear the excuses and lies. He’s conniving and a manipulator.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Obviously,” I grumble. Stepping back, I twist on my heels.