Page 88 of Sexting His Son's Ex
Six months later…
I couldn’t be a happierman.
Bianchi has fled town, leaving everything behind and I’ve claimed his territory. I’ve doubled the amount of money I’ve made and thanks to Lorenzo, most of Bianchi’s men are dead too.
Luca is another story.
Instead of pressing charges, Jovie did something else instead. She advocated for him to get help. Not only did he agree, but he also allowed me to be in charge of his life, for the most part. In a way, I suppose it’s a conservatorship, but when he is ready, everything can be his again. I’m not trying to rule his life. I only want to help.
His doctors are saying he has borderline personality disorder and is being treated with the correct therapies and medications.
I couldn’t ask for better news. Luca isn’t ready to leave the facility and I’m not sure if he’ll ever want to. He’s happy andhealthy. That’s all I can ask for as a parent. We still have some mending to do with our relationship, but I don’t view him any differently.
Wounds take time to heal, and I haven’t been able to forget his betrayal so easily. Omar is officially next in line to take my place. I decided after the baby is born, it’s time for me to step back and let a fresh, younger mind take my place.
Jovie is amazing. As always.
After the fire, we were both worried about the baby surviving, but my daughter lived, and now I’m only two months away from meeting her.
“I’m so nervous,” Jovie says, bouncing on her heels while we wait for the judges to do their final walk through at the show.
She’s nervous? I’m the one with a four-carat diamond burning a hole in my pocket.
But I can understand why she’s scared. Me, her, Marlowe, even Lorenzo, Omar, and Terrance, helped her set up her beautiful flower display.
It’s a walk-through display, meant to take you to another world. Twinkling lights sparkle through long vines and lush green leaves, flowers that hang with beautiful white blooms, and instead of grass beneath your feet, it’s clover. Rose bushes are scattered throughout with lilies. Bright colorful tulips are different lengths on the wall.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and it took us three months to build the frame of the room, then another month to add all the different size holes in the walls where the flower stems would go, and the flowers themselves? We only had three days to make thecreation once we got here. I don’t think any of us has slept for longer than thirty-minute intervals.
This entire experience has been a blur and yet, I would do it all over again to see the smiles that graced Jovie’s face.
“You’re going to win, Sweet Girl.” I stand behind her, burying my nose in her hair to smell the scent of lilies that have embedded itself into her DNA. I fucking love that scent. My arms wrap around her, my hands flat against her round stomach.
And my daughter kicks. It’s like she can sense I’m there waiting to hold her.
“You don’t know that. Everyone here is amazing. I’m with artists. Artists who have won shows before. This is just my first. I’m lucky to even be here,” she rambles, her nerves getting the best of her as the judges come closer.
They announce the second runner up a few minutes ago and they have really taken their time making their rounds.
“You’re going to win because what you made, not only art, but a way for people to explore another world, even if it only lasts for seconds. You did that and if they don’t pick you as a winner—” I brush her hair away from her ear and whisper, “Then, I’ll kill them and the person who has your trophy.”
“We have to have better sportsmanship than that, baby,” she giggles, leaning her head against my shoulder.
“I don’t give a damn about sportsmanship. I only care about you being happy.”
She spins around in my arms, her belly bumping against mine. I haven’t been able to feel her flat against me for awhile now.I miss it, but knowing it’s her pregnant belly against mine, my child safe and sound, has me addicted to Jovie being pregnant.
“You better calm down,” she warns, the judges stopping at an exhibit a few tables away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sweet Girl.”
She looks left and right. “You’re hard. Control yourself.”
I growl on a quiet hush. “How do you know that? You can’t tell.”
“I see it in your eyes, and you rub my belly a lot when you want me.”
“So constantly.”
