𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

44

The doctor moves the ultrasound wand over my belly, her eyes glued to the screen. I stare at the perfect little profile, the tiny hand curled up by the face. That's our baby in there, half me, half Damien.

"Alright, mom and dad," the doctor says, a smile in her voice. "Are you ready to know what you're having?"

I nod frantically. Damien just squeezes my hand tighter, his own eyes glued to the screen.

"You both are having a baby girl!" The doctor announces, looking at us over the rims of her glasses, smiling. "Congratulations!"

I feel my eyes well up with tears. I try to blink them back, but they spill over anyway, trailing down my cheeks as I'm flooded with bittersweet joy.

Damien leans in close, kissing away each salty droplet. His lips brush my eyelids, my cheeks, my nose, and finally my lips. The doctor gives us a moment, pretending to be absorbed in her notes. "I'd estimate you're about 24 weeks along now, the doctor says after a long pause. "You've got about three months to go."

Just three more months and we'll be holding our little angel in our arms.

The doctor finishes up, wiping the gel off my stomach and helping me sit up. Damien eases me off the table. The second my feet touch the ground, he pulls me into his arms, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. I cling to him, my face buried against his chest.

Damien pulls back to hold my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears. "I'm gonna be the best dad to our little girl," he vows, "I promise you."

Damien's hands smooth over the swell of my belly, his touch gentle. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss just above my navel, right where our baby girl is growing.

I have no doubt that Damien will be the kind of dad who's there for every milestone, every skinned knee, school play, and father-daughter dance. He'll be her rock, her safe haven, the one she can always count on.

Not like my dad, who was always too busy with church duties to pay attention to me. Who let me be married off to a man almost three times my age, because that's what "God wanted".

And definitely not like Penny's father. Not like him.

This time, my daughter will have the kind of father she deserves.

Damien's hand rests gently on  my back as we make our way upstairs from Luis's infirmary. But the moment we step into the living room, the happy bubble pops. Mr. Weaver is here, along with a man I don't recognize. They both have this look on their faces that terrifies me.

"What's going on?" I ask, my voice wavering slightly.

Damien guides me over to the couch, pulling me down onto his lap as he nods at the unfamiliar man. "Cat, this is Mark Johnson, my lawyer. Mark, this is my wife, Catherine."

I offer a weak smile, my stomach churning with nerves. "Nice to meet you."

Mark looks at Damien. "I'm not going to sugarcoat this, Damien. You could be facing some serious prison time."

I feel like the floor has dropped out from under me, my heart plummeting to my stomach. Prison? No, this can't be happening.

Mark continues, "You've been lucky to stay under the police radar for as long as you have. They've been itching to arrest you and your associates for years now. But when Rome got caught, it put a big target on your back. That's how they were able to pick you up on that outstanding warrant."

Damien tenses beside me, his hand gripping mine tightly. I can feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

"But that's not all," Mark says, leaning forward. "The cops, they're looking to build a RICO case against you, Damien. They want to paint you as the head of this major organized crime ring. And they're trying to gather evidence, build a case on you, to put you and a lot of your top guys away for a long time."