All Chapters of Keeper, Not Lover: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Clara's POVRocco’s finger hung in the air. His sharp, gray eyes were locked on Leo’s small face.Even a blind man could see the Moretti blood in that child.My heart hammered against my ribs.My worst nightmare was real.I instinctively rushed forward, shielding Rocco’s view with my body.“Don’t look at him!”I shrieked, my voice cracking with terror.Liam reacted instantly. He held Leo with one arm and pulled me behind him with the other, blocking Rocco’s predatory gaze.He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. The look in his eyes was chillingly calm.“Mr. Moretti. Please compose yourself.”Liam’s voice was quiet but held an undeniable authority.“This is my son, Leo Parker.”He deliberately emphasized the last name.“And this is my fiancée. If you harass my family again, I will call the police.”“Your son?”Rocco laughed, a horrifying, humorless sound.He stalked closer, his presence so powerful it sucked the air out of the hallway.“Professor Parker. Just because you’re good at math d

Clara's POVRocco’s voice was a cold snake coiling around my spine.I held Leo tighter, my body shaking uncontrollably.“You’re insane…”I ground out, tears finally streaming down my face. “Rocco, I’m begging you, just leave us alone. I have a new life. Liam is good to me, Leo is happy… Why do you have to destroy everything?”“Happy?”Rocco sneered, his eyes turning black with rage.He lunged, grabbing my chin and forcing my head up.“Your happiness is stealing my son and hiding in another man’s arms while he raises him for me? Clara, do you think I’m a merciful man?”His grip tightened. I could barely breathe.“Let me tell you something. For three years, I’ve dreamed of one thing: dragging you back to my bed and breeding you until you forget any other man ever touched you. Putting another baby in your belly—my baby—so you’d never even think of running again.”“In your dreams!”I didn’t think. I just acted. I jammed my thumb down on the nozzle and sprayed the entire can in his face.“H

Clara's POVLeo finally cried himself to sleep. His small hand was a vise around my finger, his brow furrowed even in his dreams. He wasn’t safe. He knew it.I gently slipped my hand away, kissed his forehead, and left the room.The blood in the living room was gone.Every trace of Vivienne—and that sickening perfume—had vanished.A different smell cut through the sterile air.Truffle. Butter. Parmesan.I froze, my gaze drawn to the open kitchen. To him.Rocco had shed his smoky jacket. He was wearing a black cashmere sweater, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms.He was looking down, expertly stirring risotto in a pan.His focus was absolute, his movements graceful. As if he weren’t in the largest penthouse in New York, but in some cozy suburban home.Like a husband. A normal husband. Cooking for his wife after a long day at the office, not a bloodbath.I stood in the shadows, a cold, bitter smile on my lips.Five years ago, I’d fantasized about this scene a thousand ti

Clara's POVThe rain kept falling.Rocco lowered his gun.He looked at me, at Liam shielding me, and the last embers of madness in his eyes went out.“Fine.”His lips moved, the sound swallowed by the storm. “If that’s what you call the sky…”He took a step back. It looked like he was about to surrender. Or maybe jump into the sea.But in that instant.Rocco’s dead eyes suddenly widened.He was looking past me, at the shadows behind me.A flicker of red. A laser sight, cutting through the rain. It crawled up my dress, settling right over my heart. A sniper.It wasn’t just the FBI. His enemies were here, too, ready to take him out in the chaos.And they were willing to kill me, his “weakness,” to do it.“Clara! Get down!”A raw, desperate roar.Before I could even process the red dot, Rocco moved.He moved. A blur of motion. Not away. Not for cover. But toward me. A human missile.“Rocco?”My eyes went wide with terror.The next second, a massive force slammed into me.Rocco had me in h

Clara's POVOne year later. Boston.The bells of Trinity Church rang.There was no grand spectacle, no army of bodyguards, no fake smiles from high society.Just a garden full of white roses and the soft, warm Boston sun.I stood in front of the mirror in a simple satin wedding dress.The woman in the reflection was no longer a hollow-eyed canary in lingerie.I’d gained some weight. My cheeks were flushed. The hardness in my eyes was gone, replaced by a peace I’d never known.“Mommy!”A little cannonball shot into the room and hugged my legs.Leo was in a tiny black tuxedo with a red bow tie, his hair perfectly combed.He was three and a half now. His gray eyes looked more and more like that man’s, but his expression was pure, untroubled joy.“Daddy says you’re the most beautiful bride in the whole world!”Leo looked up at me, grinning.Liam stood in the doorway, wearing a cream-colored suit. The look behind his glasses was as gentle as water.“Ready, Clara?”He held out his hand.A ha