Chapter 0340

“Well, there she is,” I hear Janeen say, and I sit up, sniffing and wiping at my tears. I didn’t even hear the door open.

“What?” I ask.

“My little crybaby sister,” Janeen says, smiling at me and leaning against my doorframe, wrapped in her ratty old robe. “Finally,

she’s back. Come on, spill,” she says, grinning now. “What broke the dam?”

I sniff again and start laughing, shaking my head because I know it’s ridiculous. “I hoped the baby has red hair.”

Janeen bursts into laughter too, throwing her head back with it. “Seriously?” she asks, looking at me again. “And that made you

cry?”

I shrug and nod as Janeen crosses the room to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and giving me a big hug. “Good,”

she says, kissing the side of my head. “And for what it’s worth, I hope so too. We need more redheaded psychopaths in this

family.”

“Just because they’re redheaded doesn’t mean they're going to be a psycho,” I mutter, leaning against my sister.

“Oh, baby,” she sighs, petting my messy hair, “yes it does.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

I look up to see Daniel in the doorframe, leaning against it the way Janeen just was.

“No,” I say taking a deep breath as Janeen pulls away from me. “Just...sister stuff.”

“We were just saying we hope the baby looks nothing like you,” Janeen says, giving him a wide grin.

I shove her, a little bit. “That’s not what we said, Janeen.”

“Your baby would be blessed to look like me,” Daniel says, flashing us a gorgeous smile. “My little brother could only hope to be

so lucky.”

“Oh?” I say, laughing again, “is ita boy now?”

“That’s his bet,” Jerome says, coming to stand behind Daniel and raising a cup of coffee towards me in a toast. “I’m team girl,

though.”

“Atta boy,” Janeen says, tossing him a wink.

Daniel opens his mouth to counter, but I put up a hand. “As fascinating as all of this is,” I say, looking around at them all but

letting my eyes settle on Daniel at last. “There is no time for it. Because we,” I say, giving my husband a significant look, “have to

get ready.”

“Really?” he asks, surprised and suddenly suspicious. “Why?”

“Because,” I sigh. “We're having lunch with my father.”

“Why do you have to get ready for that?” Janeen asks, confused. “He’s just going to make ham and cheese in the kitchen like he

always does -”

“No, sis,” I say, lifting a hand to pat her cheek. “My other father.”

“Oh no,” Daniel moans, sinking further against the doorframe. “Can't I get out of this? Can I have morning sickness instead of

you?”

“Sorry, dear husband,” I say, giving him a sad little shrug. “We’re going to go get you a job.”

My father was more than happy to throw me a little last-minute luncheon when I sent him a message yesterday. He’s incredibly

excited about being a grandfather, especially when this baby comes with wealthy Italian connections in tow. Natalia and Alessi,

when I sent them a message this morning, were only too happy to shift around their plans and join in.

We're all one big happy family now, after all. With this little Bianci/Alden baby at the center, holding us together.

“You'd better be cute, kidney bean,” I murmur down to my belly. “We’ve got a lot riding on you.”

“What?” Daniel asks, turning to me, thinking that I’m talking to him.

“Nothing,” I say, beaming up at him,

letting everyone at the table — mostly

my close Alden family, iene

Najalg preonenen”s e how in love

re. Daniel, understanding his

role, smiles and takes my chin in his

hand, planting a slow kiss on my lips

before turning back to my cousin on

his other side. Please read the

original content at .

He was a good sport about coming

today, though he was sort of the last

to be told. But he didn’t have Aen

other pla SI knew Gin thinking

haniea wa bring him to lunch with

me Daniel would have spent all day

laying on the beach with Jerome. And

while I don’t begrudge them a happy

day, I have need of my husband.

Please read the original content at

.

Because, unfortunately for him, he has an even more important role to play in the upcoming weeks.

I sit and look down at my plate,

playing with my food instead of

eating it, listening syietiyAt0 &E

conversation around me, letting a

very subtle pallor of sadness and

worry settle around me. Please read

the original content at

.

As soon as I feel a meaty hand settle on my shoulder, I know that it worked.

I look up at my father with wide, anxious eyes.

“Come along, little daughter,” he says softly to me, putting out a hand to help me to my feet. “Let us go and have a chat.”