Page 142 of Diego

“I understand that.”

That stops him.

I continue before he can interrupt.

“I understand why you did it. I even understand why, in your head, it probably seemed completely reasonable. But you do not get to make decisions about my life just because I’m pregnant.”

His expression settles into something more serious.

“I’m not trying to control your life.”

“Then don’t.”

Silence stretches between us for a moment.

He looks toward the pizza box, then back at me.

Finally, he nods. “Fine. Sit. Let's talk about it. It's a conversation that's been coming, and now seems like the right time.”

And for some reason, I'm suddenly feeling sick again.

Chapter Twenty Five

Diego

Blair sets the half-eaten slice down in the box and sits beside me, close enough that I can feel the tension coming off her before she says a word.

A few minutes ago she was threatening me with pepperoni and looking at me like she could not decide whether to laugh or throw me out. Now every trace of that easy irritation is gone. She pulls one leg beneath her, folds her arms, and waits for me to explain myself.

I lean forward with my forearms braced on my knees because there is no comfortable way to say what comes next. I have known this conversation was coming since the moment she told me she was pregnant. I simply hoped I would have a little longer before I had to bring her this far into my world.

“You were right about one thing,” I tell her. “I should have talked to you before I put security on you. I should have talked to you first.” Her mouth tightens, but she does not interrupt. “That part was wrong. The security itself is different.”

“That would have been a good start,” she says, and there is enough suspicion in those words to tell me she already knows she is not going to like anything that follows.

I sit back and look at her. Blair is intelligent. She has spent enough time around me and my family to know there are things we do not discuss in offices or put into acquisition reports. I have never told her exactly what my family does or who we are, and I am not going to start giving her details tonight, but pretending she has not put pieces together would insult both of us.

Blair is a lot of things. Stupid is not one of them.

“There are risks attached to my family that most people do not have to think about. You know that much.”

Her eyes stay on mine. “I’m listening.”

“And I need you to understand the part that affects you. This baby is mine. That makes our child part of my family since before he or she is born. There are risks that come with that.”

“What kind of risks?”

“The kind that require security. There will be protection around that child for the rest of his or her life. That is not something I am willing to compromise on.”

Blair draws a slow breath and glances toward the coffee table before looking back at me. “Meaning what you did to me. Somebody following the baby everywhere.”

“Yes,” I say, and I resist the urge to correct anything else because the word is not the point. “The baby will have protection. Always. That is not negotiable.”

“And I’m included in that because I’m pregnant.”

I hold her gaze because this is where the conversation becomes harder. “No, cara. You are included as long as you are in this child's life.”

Her brows pull together. “In his life?”