Chapter 72

She stared at him, her eyes beginning to glisten. "No, I can't. I want it."

Precisely what he was scared of: "There's no way that's normal." His voice was calm again, and his eyes held hers in place. "Maya, you're making a mistake."

"You are not in a place to tell me if I make a mistake!" She screamed at him, the pain in her voice making him flinch, "It's my baby, alright!"

"It's my baby too," He took several steps forward, placing his hands on her face, "Hell, we never knew we were going to come to this mess in the first place!"

Her voice was low, and she sobbed, "It's not a mess. It's mine..."

"Stop this, Maya!" 

She held his hand, quickly placing it on her abdomen in a desperate attempt to get him to agree, but he pulled back his hand.

"What are you so scared of? Huhn! How does a pregnancy hurt you?..."

"You don't want to know!" He clenched his fists at his sides, shutting his eyes so she didn't see the emotion beginning to bristle. "Look, Maya, we do it this way; you get rid of it, and you get more freedom."

"How dare you," she muttered, "take your damn freedom; I don't want any of it. Just let me have my baby.

Knowing he could not get her to see his reasoning, he walked towards her. Now close, he held her shoulders, forcing himself to hurt her so she understood her words didn't stand against his.

But he just couldn't; she was sobbing furiously, hands still gripping the woolen socks, and to make matters worse, she was looking up at him so he could see her pain.

"Damon, please," she gripped his palms, "don't make me get rid of it; anything but this will do. Lock me up in the manor, but not my baby."

Seeing he didn't push her away, she snuggled into him, holding his shirt, her forehead on his chest. "Or you can send us away; don't do this, please."

She felt hope brewing when he held her by the shoulders, his eyes looking into hers, the cold gray getting impatient, "Tomorrow morning, Maya, the sooner, the better."

Her sob quietened as she pulled away from him, nodding and looking up at him with hatred as she spat, "You do this; this will be the end of us."

"There was never an us to you, to begin with."

"I know," she nodded again like they were having a normal conversation, "this time, you won't like it that much."

His brows furrowed as he watched her walk past him, her steps slow and shaky. "É una minaccia, Maya?"

"Take it as you want it."

He heard the door shut and rubbed his eyes. How was he in this situation? With her?! It wasn't supposed to come to this.

He removed his shirt, put on a new one, and grabbed his gun. With the pregnancy out of the way, everything would be as before.

He just knew it.

***

She took slow steps towards Lina's door; she only hoped the girl wasn't asleep, for she needed her now more than ever.

What was to be done? Run? The house was guided to the T, and she couldn't move out without Luca, George, or his men. Even with that, there were people placed to follow her every movement. There was nowhere to run now.

She wanted to shield her pregnancy so severely, but just as it was, she was equally helpless. 

She knocked at Lina's door, looking up at the girls as the door opened.

"Donna," Lina muttered.

"Don't call me that," Maya snapped, remembering it wasn't the girls' fault. She couldn't help breaking down at the door, and she stretched her hands, pushing the socks back into Lina's hand, "I came to give this back."

"Madame..." Lina whispered, helpless at the standing pain at her door. It wasn't a physical hurt; it was something more profound, and as time passed, she could see how much it ate her up. She held her hand and pulled her close, hugging her right. "It be alright."

Maya was scared to ask *when*, for no one knew the answer. Unless "never" was part of the equation. 

And later, as she and Lina sat by the window watching the moon in the dark silence, Maya only wished for the morning never to come.

But it did. Bringing him to Lina's door, ready to take her. And she had gone willingly, maybe with her chin up, as he drove her to the hospital, and the process was carried out.

After that, she had never felt so empty as at that moment. After the emptiness came hatred and disgust. Distaste for herself and an intense hatred for him.

***

She stared out the window, a habit she had grown accustomed to after the dreaded day. It had been three weeks, yet she felt stuck on that dreadful event. 

She didn't leave the process; she only woke up after it, with a nurse congratulating her, "unwanted baby being gone."

She wished it was unwanted; maybe she wouldn't feel this much pain. And full-fledged disgust for herself.

She wished she could make it go away or wake from the dreadful dream, but the more days she spent staring at herself in the mirror, the more real it became.

Lina was trying her best, bringing the meals that she barely touched and running her hot baths, and after noticing she enjoyed chocolate, she made it her duty to get her cups of it every evening.

She sighed.

And him, To her, he didn't exist—even when he was standing in front of her. She found a way to make sure he felt invisible before her.

Looking at him like he was a ghost. 

Again, he wasn't sleeping in the same room with her and was barely in the manor, much to her relief and apprehension about when he was coming back.

Something told her he was back with Allysia again, but what did she care?

Thinking of the devil, the manor's gate opened, and his car rode in. Packing it in, he exited the driver's seat, closed the car door, and entered the manor.

She didn't raise her heart a bit; he always came back at this time but never came to her, maybe sleeping in his workspace or one of the manor's numerous guest rooms.

Her thoughts went blank when Derinem's car came in, shortly after Damon's, and then he went out of the driver's seat and Luca out of the passenger's.

She saw Derinem push a gun into its holster behind him, then walk to the back of the car, open it and, drag a blindfolded man out of it, and push him to the back of the house.

She frowned. With how he had been with her, she had almost forgotten he was a Don, and killing was part of the job.

The door to the room opened and closed again.

"Lina," she muttered, still looking out, watching Luca bring another blindfolded man out of the same booth, "you should go to bed. I'll be ok."

"Seems you've been doing okay lately." 

His voice had her jerking up and her body posture changing as if she were ready for defense. The sight of him shocked and angered her; how dare he show his face to her? After everything he did?

"What are you doing here?"

He looked around him, then back at her, "You mean my room?" When she stayed quiet, he added, "Look, Maya, I've given you enough time to get over it."

Her hatred had her yelling at him, "I died too, alright. Pretend I'm not right here; haven't you been with Allysia?"

"I haven't, I swear, Maya. I just waited for you to get over all of this nonsense."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT." 

She noticed he held a gun in his hand. Seeing her stare at the gun, he walked towards the bed and dropped it on the bedside table, looking back at her and saying, "I would never hurt you intentionally as you do to me. Hell, I would never even hurt you."

But how frail she was told him otherwise; she had lost weight, and her skin blended with her white nightgown. Only her eyes were full of life, and even then, it was anger.

He raked his hand through his hair. "I'm tired, Maya, of you acting like I'm not there."

She cut him short, venom on her tongue, leaning forward, "To me, you don't even exist, Damon; I hate you so much right now that I wish I'd never see you again!" She then muttered, "Now get out."

Instead, he took steps toward her, causing her to take steps backward. Asking, "And if I don't?"

She stumbled on her feet to get away from him, "Stay away from me,"

He was closer now than she wanted him to be—towering above her as they walked the room.

He was close enough to touch her, but he didn't, even until her legs were against the bedside table.

"I don't think I can stay away from you any longer." His thumb went up to her cheekbone, tracing while she caught her breath, her eyes wavering, looking for a way out.

"I did it for us, Maya."

She wished he'd stop calling her name, which only made her madder.

Still looking for a way out, she took another step back, only to almost trip on the table. She put her hands behind her to steady herself as she felt the gun's metal.

"It wasn't even a freaking baby, damnit!"

Anger surged through her, and in a swift move, she pointed the gun at his chest, cocking the weapon, "It was my baby."

He looked down at the gun, then up at her, a little painful smile tugging at the sides of his lips. "You can't fucking do it."

"Move back; I'm trying my best not to."

Instead, he came so close his chest was at the head of the gun. "I dare you, Maya."

And just like he asked, she pulled the trigger.