Manfred Valderrama POV I watch Amara in the reflection of my gym mirror, while I lift the dumbbells in my hands. Since I looked more into the article she was reading, the other day, about the benefits of yoga during pregnancy, I’ve had a mat brought up here so we can do our morning workout together. She looks hot as shit in the training bra and yoga shorts she’s wearing and the bigger her stomach grows, the more I seem to become obsessed with it. I feel a lot more relaxed, now that the list of people Villafuerte’s investigator thought could be a threat to her is dead; even more so now that she seems to have found her appetite, again. I swear that girl finds something new to dip a pickle into every day. “You look real sexy when you're working out.” She stares at me from the other side of the room like a vixen, then abandoning her mat she moves to sit on the weight bench beside me. I love how happy she looks when she leans back on one arm and the hand from her other strokes over her

Amara Villafuerte POV “I can’t.” He shakes his head, straining his neck when he looks up at the ceiling like he’s praying to God to give him the power of resistance. “You won’t hurt me and I promise, if you did, I’d tell you. I just want you to fuck me the way you used to. I miss it and, right now, you need it.” “Amara, I can’t,” he answers through gritted teeth. His fingers starting to become a little less gentle as they fuck me. “Please, Manfred. I need it too.” I hear him growl in frustration when he moves away from the bed, and just when I think he’s going to storm off, he shocks me when he roughly unbuckles his belt. I smile victoriously as I watch him undress and see the harsh threat on his face as he comes back toward me. “You make me go against my better judgment,” he tells me, looking between my legs. “Look at this pussy.” He tilts his head and admires what's laid out in front of him before he forces my knees even further apart, “weeping so desperately over my bed sheets

Manfred Valderrama POV “What are you doing out here all alone?” I turn my head away from watching the ocean when I hear her voice come from behind me. I thought she’d be flat-out asleep after all the different ways I’ve made love to her since our guests left the island. “Couldn’t sleep.” I shrug, continuing to watch the waves slide onto the sand and drag back out, again. “We could talk about whatever's on your mind?” She sits down beside me, burying her feet in the sand as I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Some things are better left unsaid.” I kiss the top of her head and smell her hair, despite the coconut undertone of her shampoo, she smells of me, and I love it. “I disagree, I think whatever it is that’s on your mind would feel much better if you shared it. Are you scared about my father being in Manila?” “I’m not scared of your father, Amara.” I shake my head. “I told you, I’m figuring all that out.” Amara called Steven last week and the fact he hasn’t told her he’s in

Mrs. Amara Valderrama POV “Mrs Valderrama, what a nice surprise.” I somehow manage to scramble up off my back and onto my knees when Manfred’s mom waltzes unexpectedly into the living room. “What on earth are you doing?” She studies the yoga mat I was laid on, with a snarl on her lips. “Oh, this? It’s just a little yoga. It will, apparently, help with the birthing side of things, though I’m not sure what aids having to push a six-pound baby out of your…” I stop myself from rambling when the disgust on her face tells me I’m over-sharing. “Drugs, dear.” She clears her throat before lighting up a cigarette, and despite me knowing that Manfred would be mad at her for it, I keep my mouth shut. We may have agreed that her party tomorrow night is a good idea, but the woman still detests me. “Manfred has a few meetings he had to attend, is there something I can help you with?” I use the armchair to help me struggle back onto my feet. I’m so big these days that even doing the minimalist ta

Amara Valderrama POV “Steven, will you not congratulate us? Amara is soon to deliver you a healthy grandson.” There's a sarcastic bite to Manfred’s tone as he strokes his hand proudly over my bump, and my father says nothing, just glances at the crowd surrounding us, looking overwhelmed. “Amara, it's been a while since I saw you.” He manages to pull himself back together and pastes on a smile, “Perhaps you and I could talk in private.” Manfred places himself in front of me, protectively. “I’d like a word with you myself, first,” he tells him. “Very well.” My father nods his head, and when Manfred turns around to face me, the pure rage on his face makes me even more anxious. “I’ll make this right,” he promises, kissing my forehead before he steps towards my father and stands down his guard. “Follow me. I have somewhere private we can talk.” I hear him utter to my father as he passes him, not looking back to check if he follows as he marches back through to the hall. My father shak