Valerie Foster's life turns upside down when she goes into labor in the presence of Antonio Costello, the notorious Capo of an Italian Crime Syndicate: La Viperia. In a chaotic turn of events, Antonio is forced to take Valerie to the hospital, where he accidentally signs the birth certificate as the father of her baby! But that's only the beginning. Much to Valerie’s dismay, Antonio becomes obsessed with Valerie and her baby boy, insisting on raising him as his own. Despite her protests, Antonio is determined to be the best accidental dad ever. *This is a compilation of several books.*
View More“You are Valerie Foster?” Antonio Costello asked in a thick Italian accent, his deep voice surprisingly gentle.
Valerie looked at him, studying his features slowly and carefully. He appeared to be in his late thirties with jet-black hair and eyes so dark they seemed almost black. His face, while almost handsome, had a deep scar running from his forehead down to his cheek on the right side, making him look intimidating, to say the least.He sat with an air of confidence, his posture tall and regal, indicating a man of power and strength. Even seated, his broad shoulders and the powerful build of his chest and arms hinted at his impressive height.
He looked absolutely terrifying, Valerie thought.
One look at Antonio Costello and Valerie could tell he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.
“Yes,” she replied briskly, holding her stomach protectively as if to protect her baby from the predator in front of her. She was sitting on a couch in front of him with one of her brother’s men standing behind her. He had his eyes glued to her just as he promised he would.
“Hmm,” Antonio said. He narrowed his eyes at Val’s pregnant belly. “And that’s Julian Sinclaire’s child.”
“Yes.”
The man made a face as if he had eaten something bitter. “You decided to have a child with that Russian sleaze bag? Could’ve done better, Bella.”
Val rolled her eyes. Why did everyone, including her mother, just assume she could’ve done better than Julian? Sure, he was a douchebag and a cheating bastard at times, but he was at least nice to her. He took her in and protected her when she needed it the most!
Not to mention he had gifted her with her unborn son. RIP Julian.
“Is there a point to this conversation?” Valerie asked impatiently. “Why did you bring me here?” She was starting to get quite irritable but Antonio seemed like he was in hurry to finish up. Like he had all the time in the world.
Antonio’s black eyes flashed. “A little impatient, are we?” he remarked, his tone laced with amusement.
Val bristled at Antonio’s condescending tone but forced herself to stay composed. Getting angry wouldn't be a good idea. This man was dangerous. “I didn’t think you brought me here to make small talk,” she said.
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Of course, of course. Pregnancy does tend to make women a bit…testy,” he said coyly.
Val clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to snap back at him. Instead, she forced herself to remain calm and focused on him. “Let’s get to the point. What do you want from me?”
Antonio leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he studied her with those intense black eyes. “Straight to business, I like that,” he mused. “Very well, Signorina Foster. Like I said to your brother, you have something that belongs to me.”
“What would that be?” she asked even though she had no desire to continue this conversation with him.
“A series of codes. I won’t go into details, but they are written on a piece of paper,” he paused and leaned forward. “I have reasons to believe that you have it in your possession.”
Val narrowed her eyes. “And if I did have these codes, why would I give them to you?” she asked.
Antonio’s smile was like a predator’s, confident and unnerving. “Because, mio amore, you don’t have a choice.”
“What? Are you going to kill me? With my unborn baby?” Val asked, struggling to keep her voice steady. She was starting get scared now. She didn't want to die. Despite being in dangerous situations multiple times in the past, she had always managed to survive.
His eyes widened. “Kill you? Oh no. I am more decent than that,” he exclaimed.
Valerie snorted loudly at that. Decent? This man had a sense of humor, that's for sure.
He frowned at her. “Do you have something to say? Did I say something funny?”
“If you are a decent human being, I’m the Virgin Mary.” She paused and pointed at her swollen belly before continuing. “And this… here… is baby Jesus ready to be born.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and for a moment, she thought he might smile. But his face stayed serious. Becaue, why not?
“You seem to have a sharp tongue, little lady,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I guess what they say about red-headed girls is true.”
Valerie rolled her eyes.
Antonio’s gaze narrowed, his demeanor shifting from playful to intense. “But let’s not forget why we’re here,” he continued, his voice low and commanding.
“I don’t have your stupid codes,” Val barked.
Antonio’s expression remained unreadable for a moment before he leaned back in his chair, seemingly unfazed by her outburst. “That’s a shame,” he replied calmly. “Because I have reason to believe otherwise.”
Val had something smartass to say. It was at the tip of her tongue but she stopped.
Because the room suddenly felt hot. Val gripped the edge of the chair. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and her heart pounded in her chest.
Antonio leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table between them. “Is there a problem, Signorina?” he asked, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he watched her squirm. “Did I catch you in a lie? You know where the paper is, don’t you, Bella?”
Val shook her head vehemently. “No, no, I don’t, asshole.”
“Then why do you look uncomfortable?” Antonio pointed out.
“Just hot, that’s all,” she mumbled, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. The room was suffocatingly warm now, and she glanced around helplessly.
Was it her imagination, or was everything beginning to sway?
Suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen, making her gasp and clutch at her stomach. Her dress was suddenly wet, and she looked down in shock.
Her water had broken.
Landon tensed. “What kind of situation?” he asked, grabbing a shirt from the back of a chair and pulling it on.Max stepped fully into the cabin, shutting the door behind him. “Marquez is moving faster than we anticipated. He’s calling in favors, putting a price on both your heads.” His eyes flickered to Daphne. “Especially yours.”“How much am I worth?” she asked, almost sounding bored but Landon knew she was scared.“Three million. Dead or alive.” Max’s mouth twitched. “Though I suspect he’d prefer you breathing so he can finish what he started.”Landon cursed under his breath. “That’s higher than I expected.”“You flatter me,” Daphne muttered. “I didn’t think I was worth more than one.”Max snorted, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You must be something special to piss him off that much.”“I was his favorite,” Daphne said, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.Max’s expression darkened. “Yeah, well, now you’re his most wanted. And he’s not being subtle about it. Ev
Landon stood at the stove, his back to her, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. His hair was slightly messed up, and he was shirtless.Because, of course, he was.Daphne stared at the sculpted muscles of his broad shoulders and gulped.Memories of them coupling that night came flooding back. Her body tingled at the thought of those hands all over her again.“I’m not hungry,” she lied, even as her stomach betrayed her with a low growl.She was also hungry for something else entirely.He glanced over his shoulder, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Your stomach disagrees.” He gestured toward the small wooden table where two plates waited. “Sit. You need to eat.”Daphne remained in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t take orders from you.”Landon turned fully now, spatula in hand, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “It’s not an order. It’s breakfast.” He slid a perfect golden pancake onto a waiting plate. “And you lost a lot of b
Daphne turned away from him sharply, hoping he didn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. Her body ached, but it wasn’t the pain that made her want to scream—it was the way his words cracked something in her that she’d worked so hard to keep sealed.She didn’t want to believe him. Didn’t want to believe in anything other than the rules Father had carved into her skin and soul: feelings are weakness. Attachment is death. Vulnerability is a luxury for people who don’t live in cages with golden locks.But Landon… damn him. He looked at her like she was more than a weapon. Like she wasn’t something broken beyond repair.She couldn’t stand it.“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, her voice low and shaking. “Like I’m some wounded animal you want to fix.”“I’m not trying to fix you.”“Liar.”She heard him shift behind her but he didn’t step closer. “I’m not. I just… want you to know you don’t have to fight every minute you’re awake.”She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes.
Landon stood just outside the door, his back pressed lightly against the cool wood. He could hear her breathing slow, the subtle shift from guarded alertness to tentative rest. For a moment, he let himself breathe too.He glanced down at his hands, still stained faintly from earlier struggles—both physical and emotional. Taking care of Daphne wasn’t just about the wounds on her ribs. It was about the cracks he could see beneath her tough exterior, the quiet battles no one else knew she fought.The doctor would be here soon, but Landon knew this was only the beginning. He needed to earn her trust. And trust was something Daphne didn’t seem to give freely.He didn’t expect her to let her guard down quickly, and he wasn’t going to push. She had every right to be cautious, especially of him.But for tonight, she was safe.He pushed himself off the door and walked to the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and setting it on the gas burner. The blue flame flickered to life, casting dancing
Landon didn’t press her further. Instead, he stood slowly and extended a hand.“Come on,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You need rest.”Daphne stared at his hand, stubbornness flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t argue. She took it, and he helped her up with a careful grip, mindful of her injuries. She leaned into him without meaning to, her strength slipping more than she cared to admit.He led her down a narrow hallway, the wooden floor creaking softly beneath their steps. At the end was a small bedroom, sparsely furnished with a simple bed, a dresser, and thick, heavy curtains drawn tight across the window. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, from a sachet tucked between the pillows.Landon pushed the door open and guided her inside.“You’ll be safe here,” he murmured. “Clean sheets, warm blankets. You’ll sleep better than you have in weeks.”“I don’t sleep well anywhere,” Daphne muttered, wincing as she sat on the edge of the bed.He knelt again, checking the blood
Landon’s car was parked just beyond the tree line, blending into the shadows. He adjusted his grip on Daphne as she stirred weakly, her breath hot against his neck.“I can walk now,” she murmured.“Sure you can,” he muttered, not slowing.She didn’t argue again.When they reached the car, he opened the passenger door with one hand and gently lowered her into the seat. She winced, her fingers gripping the edge of the dashboard as she fought back a sound of pain.Landon shut the door quietly, then circled to the driver’s side. Once inside, he started the engine and pulled away from the warehouse without a glance back.For a long stretch of road, silence hung between them, thick and jagged.“You really tracked me down?” Daphne finally asked, voice hoarse.He nodded. “Didn’t exactly leave a breadcrumb trail, but I had help.”She looked out the window, face pale in the dashboard lights. “Why would you do that?”“Because I knew you would be in danger once your…um…employer found out that I w
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