Thin Lives (Donati Bloodlines #3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

again, not after the last two babies. The first time, she had been alone. The second, Calisto had helped her through not only the delivery of a child that didn’t survive, but the black depression that followed right behind for months.
    This pregnancy—Calisto’s baby—was so important to Emma. In more ways than just one. She had to care for his son, and keep him safe at all costs, because he couldn’t do it right now. And the baby was the one and only real thing that Emma had left to hold onto from her affair with Calisto. Nothing else had been left behind, really. With his memories gone, it was like it didn’t even happen to him.
    Only she knew.
    And Affonso, of course.
    Yes, the baby’s life was incredibly important. She had the distinct feeling that if—heaven forbid—she went into early labor again, and the baby died, it would not end well for her.
    The baby was, undoubtedly, the one and only thing keeping her alive.
    At least where Affonso was concerned.
    She was the gatekeeper, so to speak. She carried the child he wanted—the boy he needed. He’d been forced for years to act as though Calisto wasn’t his son, and her baby was now the one chance he would have to produce another boy.
    A boy he could claim.
    A boy that was a piece of Calisto—someone Affonso loved wholly.
    Selfishly, even.
    Affonso might have hated her, and what she did, but she had something he wanted more than anything. Something he could love, since he had so little of that to spare for everyone else around him.
    No, he wouldn’t hurt her.
    Not while she was the gatekeeper to the baby, anyway.
    What terrified her the most, however, was what her husband might do to her after the child was safely born, and out of her arms. Would he kill her then or let her live since she’d given him a gift, despite the shame it was steeped in?
    Swallowing back the sudden rush of worry, Emma forced her expression to remain a mask of calm. Affonso was still watching her from behind his desk. She pretended like he wasn’t, grabbing her book off the couch to flip through the pages and go back to the spot she had left off from.
    She didn’t want to be in his office at all. She much preferred to be alone.
    If she couldn’t have Calisto, then being alone seemed much better.
    Affonso didn’t give her a choice. She was rarely allowed out of his sight when he was home, and when he wasn’t, she couldn’t leave unless it was something for the baby.
    “Cynthia called last night,” Affonso said.
    “Oh?” Emma wondered why her husband would bother to bring up a phone call about her step-daughter when he usually never did. “About what?”
    “She wanted to know if you were going to have a baby shower, or something of that nature.”
    Emma shrugged, never looking up from her book. At the same time, an idea flew into her head, giving her a bit of relief. “Not before—I might have to stay in the hospital for a couple of months leading up to the birth. I would hate to have people make plans and then be forced to cancel them last minute. It wouldn’t be fair.”
    “You’re not going into the hospital yet,” Affonso said.
    “We don’t really know when it will happen,” Emma reminded him. “It could be tomorrow—it might be another month. It’s hard to say, as there have been no changes. But we both know the last time my cervix opened prematurely, it happened very quickly, and we didn’t have much warning.”
    Affonso scowled. Each and every time her premature delivery was brought up in some way to him, he either treated it with scorn and disdain, or outright ignored it. Over the last few months, Emma had gotten better at not letting her husband’s lack of empathy and his horrible attitude toward her loss roll off her shoulders.
    She couldn't change who Affonso was.
    Why bother to try?
    “True enough. What is your point?” Affonso asked.
    “My point, Affonso, is exactly what I already said. I don’t want to have people make plans, only for them to