Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
The thought of a home like that makes me feel like a caged animal. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting at the idea. Maybe there’s a middle ground. A way to keep everyone I care about safe while not forcing my wife to share her home with my business enterprise. It never considered it before.
The elevator dings open, and I step into the foyer. There’s no one around, and as I stalk toward the bedroom, I hope the cleaning crew is already finished in there.
When I push the door open, I sigh. It’s spotless. Even the bed is perfectly made with hospital corners at the edges.
Val, dressed in one of my shirts, is sitting on the edge of it with something white clutched in her hand.
“Angel?” I cross the room and kneel to catch her eye. “What is it?”
She folds my hand around the piece of plastic, and I glance down at the pregnancy test with a blue cap on one end.
“This is why I left… and we need to talk about it.”
15
VALENTINA
He looks stunned. Even more so than the night we met outside the bathroom at the season-opening ball. Not struck by lightning stunned but got hit by a Mack truck and run over stunned.
I swallow hard and wait for him to say something. He clutched the pregnancy test in both his hands, staring down at the printed words on the tiny screen. I’m shaking, dying for him to speak, to react, anything, because if he doesn’t, I might explode from the tension.
I tuck my shaking hands under my thighs and try not to squirm. In my head, I’m praying he understands what I mean by “the reason I left,” and it doesn’t start an entirely new fight with him. I’m so tired of fighting.
After what feels like an eternity, he whispers, “Angel.” His tone holds a note of reverence I’ve only ever heard in church. Not a prayer, but a supplication.
He finally meets my eyes and slides the test to rest beside me on the bed. His hands curl over my knees and up my thighs to grasp my hips. It puts him in a crouch, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he gazes into my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me the minute you found out?”
As much as I don’t want to remind him of what I confessed earlier, I still need to explain. “I thought you’d want revenge… that maybe you’d earned the right. But if you killed me and our baby, I feared you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself when you found out.” I splay my fingers over my belly and try to beg with my eyes. “I found out I was pregnant only a few minutes before I spotted that picture of your mother. I went into your office that day to tell you and saw it… but it doesn’t matter now. If you don’t mind, I only have one request?”
He exhales slowly, but I hear it loud in the silent room. “What?”
“Wait to kill me until after the baby is born. I can’t have him punished for my sins. Please,” I add, just in case he’s in a generous mood.
Again, I hold my breath, waiting for a response from him. Any sign of what he’s feeling or thinking right now.
After a few seconds, which feel like hours, he shifts over onto his knees so he can press closer between my thighs. “Valentina… is there anything else you’re hiding from me? Anything you need to tell me now, so we don’t have to keep going through this. Secrets are toxic, as are lies, and I won’t tolerate either.”
I consider what Andrea told me in the kitchen earlier. Part of me wants to tell him, if only to ensure she gets the revenge she deserves, but I also want to hold the information back if I need more to buy my child’s safety.
So, I make the choice and shake my head. “No. I don’t have any secrets about my past or our relationship.” It’s not a lie… but the omission still churns my belly into a burning pit.
He scans my face, up and down, no doubt hunting for the truth. While he’s so close, his heat wrapping around me, comforting me, I let myself relax, just for a moment. The scent of him is strong, spicy, and delicious. If I leaned forward only a few inches, I could taste him so easily.
I lick my lips, and he tracks that, too.
As if he can read my mind, he shifts backward and stands. When he turns away, it’s like my heart stops in my chest. Is this it? He’s going to kill me. Or worse, throw me out? I thought I’d resigned myself to a life without him when I ran away, but the reality was so much worse than I’d imagined. I can’t go through it again.