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)
He stops typing on his phone and stalks toward the bed. “Watch your fucking attitude, Valentina. I am being patient with you because you’re carrying my child, but keep pushing when I tell you to stop, and I’ll have to resort to other punishments.”
“Like tying me up?” I hold my wrists together and thrust them toward him. “I don’t know, that sounds kind of kinky. I might be into it.”
Memories of my arms going numb, of being tied to a bed for days return, and I let my hands fall to my lap. All at once when I think I’m okay, that I’ll forget what Sal did to me, the memories flash in my mind, reminding me I’ll never be free of him.
Unaware of my inner turmoil, Adrian huffs out an angry breath and continues typing on his phone.
“I don’t need a doctor,” I say breezily, trying to grab at my playfulness again. “You don’t have to drag him out of bed this late to do nothing but check my blood pressure because we both know you aren’t going to allow him to get anywhere near my lady parts.”
He blinks and looks up at me like he hadn’t considered having a baby means a medical professional will eventually be all up in my business.
I scoot forward, dragging the sheet off me and shoving his shirt off so I’m naked in front of him. When I approach, he steps backward until he bumps into the nightstand. His eyes are locked on my bare breasts, and I don’t mind the staring, not with that hungry look on his face.
Then he seems to shake himself. “Knock it off, Valentina. I’m serious. I won’t risk harming you or my son. Not for something like rough sex. Not when we can be careful or just wait until you deliver.”
I throw my hands up in frustration and spin away so I don’t have to look at him. Because I’m pretty sure I’ll say something I regret if he keeps giving me the feral look I know he’s not going to act on. And worse, if I push him to it, he’s going to blame me for his actions.
I don’t know if it’s the hormones or my reality crashing down around me, but suddenly, I feel very alone. A far cry from the cherished, loving feeling I had before. He doesn’t want a partner; he wants an incubator.
When I turn to face him again, his eyes rake across my face only, refusing to dip lower. “Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll get the bedding changed so we can sleep? You need your rest so our son grows strong.”
I’ve about fucking had it. Anger burns through me in a hot sticky wave as I spin on my heel and head toward the door. Before I make it to the hallway, I call back to him, “I hope it’s a girl.”
18
ADRIAN
The second she’s out of my sight, something inside me snaps. No. She won’t do this to me again, not while I have breath left in my body.
I heave myself off the bed, still completely naked, and chase after her, grabbing my discarded shirt on the way out. It’s not even that I’ve told her several times she won’t leave my side. It’s the fact that she is running again. If she thinks she can get away a second time, she’s about to face the harsh reality of how far I’ll go to protect what’s mine.
Despite following almost immediately, she got a good head start on me. I catch up to her in the foyer, but she’s stopped in the middle of it like she’s wrestling with the fact that she left the room to begin with. I ease up behind her and lay the cotton over her shoulders so she can cover herself.
“Don’t,” she grits out, almost on a sob. “Don’t touch me right now. I’m not leaving the penthouse; I just needed a fucking minute.”
She doesn’t curse often, but when she does, it feels like a sucker punch to the chest.
“All my life,” she continues, “people make decisions for me. Who I’ll marry, what I’ll wear, how I’ll act, and you know what…they all say it’s what’s best for me. Every single one of them…even my father, when he saddled me with Sal, said he agreed to the betrothal because it’s what’s best for me.”
I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts in first, “I want to see Rose.”
It takes me a moment to process her request, my heart climbing uncomfortably into my throat, making my words harsher than I intend. “She’s dead. You can’t see her.”
Something feral sparks in her eyes. “You think I don’t know that? You said you took care of her, so I want to go to her grave. I never got to say goodbye to her. And right now, if she were here, she’s the one I’d be running to in order to sort out everything I’m feeling.”