I nod to the publicist and follow Margot inside. Voices draw me toward the living room, and I see Luca and Ivy in deep discussion. They both look up when I walk in.
Ivy’s face is tight. She gives me a small smile. “You found out about Margot?”
“Did you know?”
They both nod. I frown at Luca. “You didn’t tell me?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t my news to tell.”
I sit with them, leaning against the sofa as I mull over this development. How does this impact Beckett and his attack on Luca? Is Margot in more danger now, or less?
Luca answers my unsaid question. “We’ll keep security tight on the two girls,” he says, nodding to me. “And continue trying to draw Beckett out to face us. Now, more than ever, it’s important that we keep Ivy and Margot safe. Who knows—maybe the news will be enough to get Beckett to show himself. Maybe he’ll think it’s mine.”
Tension ratchets up in my body at the thought of Luca touching Margot.
I take a deep breath. “Theo said they’re not having much luck searching Argyle. He’s had to open the ports and let planes fly on a normal schedule again, but security is still tight.”
“Who knows where Beckett is?” Luca shakes his head.
“I’m more worried about Hunter.” Ivy wrings her hands, staring between us. “Did you read the article? He was clearly vindictive and hoping that revealing Margot’s pregnancy would cause her pain. He even said she wasn’t fit to be a mother and took a jab at her sponsorships and brand partners, saying they should drop her.”
“Is he the father?” I try to ask the question casually, even though my throat tightens. The thought of a vindictive, hateful man like Hunter being the father of Margot’s child makes me sick. If he would willingly poison Ivy’s bakery just to spite her, who knows what he would do to his own child.
Ivy barks out a laugh, shaking her head. “I seriously doubt it. Margot wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.”
“So, you don’t know who the father is?”
Ivy shakes her head. “Haven’t been able to get it out of her.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know.” Luca runs his fingers through his hair.
“Let’s stop gossiping.” Ivy sighs, shaking her head. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do about this, and if it affects this whole mess with Beckett in any way.”
“Well, it might make Margot a target. He could see her as a weak point,” I say, lacing my fingers behind my head.
“She won’t want to leave the house.” Ivy chews her lip, sliding her hand into Luca’s. “And this is happening just when she was starting to be herself again. Margot’s been so sad for so long, and just these past couple of weeks, I’ve seen the old Margot come out. She’s been happier. Calmer. She’s actually smiled multiple times.”
Ivy lets out a heavy sigh. My knee bounces up and down, and I glance toward the staircase. It feels wrong to be talking about Margot without her here. We should be comforting her, not outlining our security plans without her.
I excuse myself and stand up. Heading up the stairs, I turn toward Margot’s end of the hallway instead of my own. As I stand at her door, I raise my fist to knock.
I hesitate.
Who am I to offer her comfort? I’m just a guy who’s been living with her for a few weeks. Sure, we’ve kissed—and done a little bit more—but does she actually want to see me?
With a deep breath, I ignore my hesitation and rap my knuckles on the door.
“Yeah?” Margot’s voice calls out on the other side.
“It’s me.” I lean my forehead against the door, praying that she’ll let me in.
When I hear her footsteps on the other side, my breath catches. I lift my head as she opens the door, my heart racing behind my ribs. I stare into her bright, blue eyes, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and tell her it’ll be okay.
It’s not like me to be this sentimental. It’s not like me to search out someone just to comfort them. I’ve spent my entire life on my own, and it’s never bothered me.
But Margot is different. She’s gotten under my skin, and I need to make sure she’s okay. Her pain feels like my pain, and until I know that she’s feeling all right, I won’t be able to do anything.