Page 29 of Obsession (Dark Revenge)
I glanced down at my attire, cursing under my breath. While the robe wasn’t transparent, it certainly wasn’t suitable for answering the door. I rushed back upstairs, grabbed a thicker robe, and cinched it tightly around me. Returning downstairs, I proceeded to answer the door, wondering if perhaps it was a package Warren had ordered. But why hadn’t the delivery person used the gate’s intercom? Only we knew the access code.
Upon opening the door, I was taken aback to find a woman standing there. She let out a small gasp, clearly not expecting to see me.
“Sorry, I...” she began, stumbling back a step, clutching something in her hand.
My anger flared instantly, and I realized who had come knocking. I swiftly adopted a defensive stance.
“How dare you?” I growled at her.
“Listen, I was only—”
“You whores just can’t get enough, can you?” I scoffed, watching her lower lip tremble. “If you think you can show up here and somehow demand my husband for yourself, you’re mistaken. So he slept with you, but if you believe he wants more than a quick fling, you’re deluding yourself.”
I knew my words were meant to assert control, but this wasn’t the first time someone had come seeking Warren, flaunting evidence of his affairs in my face. They were easily bought off, usually, and I swiftly moved inside to get my phone before returning.
“How much will it take to keep you quiet and ensure I never have to see your face again?” I inquired, ready to transfer whatever sum of money she required to stay away from Warren. He had improved, or so I thought. We had discussed this issue before, but it seemed he had stumbled once more.
“I-I don’t want any money,” the woman stammered.
She looked very young, too young, perhaps even too young to be legal. Could Warren be so reckless?
“No? Then why are you here?” I jeered, toying with my phone in my hand, prepared to make the transfer.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have come.”
She was about to turn away when I finally noticed a piece of paper in her hand. If she wouldn’t explain her presence, then I’d have to figure it out myself.
“What is this?” I demanded.
“No! Please!” She tried to reach for it, but I held her back.
“Proof of your affair?” I snapped. “You know this makes you nothing but a pitiful, pathetic, and utterly—”
I trailed off as my eyes focused on the contents of the paper. My heart seemed to freeze, and my hands began to shake as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly wiped away a single tear, my mind struggling to process what I was holding in my hands.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I-I never wanted—”
“Shut up,” I uttered.
“What?”
“I said shut up!” I screamed at her. She averted her gaze, tears forming in her eyes as she began to cry. “Stop crying!”
But I wasn’t sure whether that command was directed at her or myself.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
I felt as though I might faint. What was I to do with this information? The woman was pregnant—carrying Warren’s child—and she had undeniable proof in her hands. I wasn’t certain how she had managed to obtain a sample of Warren’s DNA, and I didn’t know if Warren was aware of this, but this wasn’t just an infatuated woman seeking to break up our marriage. She was pregnant. She was carrying the childI couldn’t give Warren. A dark, overwhelming sensation of despair and anger welled up inside me, but I refrained from lashing out physically. I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure before addressing the woman.
“I want you to leave,” I said calmly, locking eyes with her. She nodded hesitantly, her mouth slightly agape, as if she was struggling to find her voice. It was clear that she desired a future with Warren for the sake of their unborn child, but that was something I couldn’t allow. I couldn’t bring myself to suggest she get rid of the baby, but I needed her gone, far away from Warren and me.
“No, you’re not hearing me. I want you out of this country. I want you gone, and I never want you to contact Warren. Do you understand?” I pressed, my determination unwavering.
She attempted to respond, but no words escaped her lips. Her mouth remained open, her eyes filled with a shattered look, a poignant reflection of her longing for a father for her child. However, that man couldn’t be Warren. I wasn’t willing to let her jeopardize our life together. I had to be resolute.
“I just want to talk to Warren,” she whispered.
“That isn’t going to happen. You’re going to leave. You’ll quit your job and find a ticket out of here. I don’t care which country, but I’ll make sure you have enough money in your account to start anew somewhere far away. Do you understand?” I insisted.
