Page 12 of Revealed
She turns around holding two cups of coffee, setting one in front of me. I wrap my hand around the cup, allowing the heat to warm my chilled fingers.
“You're my only friend here. I never want to put you in a situation that could cause you harm.”
My confession comes out in a whisper, like it’s easier to relay that way. Kathyismy only friend here, and I never want to make life harder for her. If Michael and I are caught, and it’s discovered she knew, she would be on the chopping block with us. Kathy’s loyalty belongs to Ashton’s father Evander, but I know Ashton holds her in a place of high respect.
Kathy comes back to the island with two plated donuts and a soft smile, “Well, I’m most certainly not theonlyfriend you’ve made.” One of her brows arches in question. “Are you both crazy?”
“I don’t know how it happened, but I can’t stop it. Youknow this isn’t a life that I would’ve chosen for myself.” My head drops into my hands as I stare down at the untouched coffee. “I don’twantto stop it. He makes me feel something in a world that drives me to shut down. I feel in control of my destiny with him.”
A contemplative silence falls between us before she responds. “Youmustbe more careful. Anyone could’ve walked in last night.” She repeats my earlier thoughts without judgement.
“Yeah, I barely slept a wink thinking of that,” I agree with a sigh
“What’s keeping you from sleeping?” Ashton’s voice breaks the comfort cloaking the room.
I choke down the shock of him being here. When did he get back from his travels?
“A book I’ve been reading kept me up last night. I had to know the ending.” The lie comes out so easily, I almost believe it myself.
“Reading seems like such a waste of time. Why not just watch a movie?” A deep southern drawl breaks through the room.
That would be Victor, Ashton’s second-in-command, and the most obnoxious man on God’s planet. Even though he says the most outrageous things, I’ve learned he only does it to get a rise out of people. He loves watching the bomb of outrage go off. Of all the men on the Rose’s staff, he is the one who looks the most like a crime boss. He’s shorter than both Michael and Ashton, copper red hair and a shit ton of freckles. His only redeemable quality is his wife. A beautiful, brown-skinned queen that he actually dotes on.
“Victor, there’s a lot you could learn from a romance book that I’m sure your wife would appreciate,” I say with a snicker. “How is sweet baby Nathan doing and when are you going to bring him back over so I can get some cuddles?”
“Nothing a book written by a woman could teach me,” he winks and I roll my eyes. “My son is doing wonderful. I can already tell he will be a strong, healthy leader. Kathy, honey, can I get one of those donuts Francesca is devouring?”
“That’s probably why you aren’t pregnant yet. Treating your body like shit. We’ll look into a diet and exercise plan,” Ashton barks, finding any reason to make the lack of pregnancy my fault.
I swivel around on the barstool, taking a sip of my coffee, only to practically choke on it when I notice Michael standing in the doorway behind Ashton. My eyes snap back to Ashton’s face in time to register the sneer pulling at his lips.
Michael’s gaze is drilling a heated hole into the back of his boss's head. A warmth spreads through me seeing his emotion on my behalf. I know he wants to step in to defend my honor, but I’ve never needed anyone to speak for me.
“Over my dead fucking body,” I retort, adding an exclamation to that statement by taking a big bite of the donut.
Kathy turns away, but I don’t miss the smirk on her lips. My attention returns to my husband to find his eyes in narrow slits. Behind his shoulder I don’t miss the smirk painting Michael’s face, and I relax knowing that he isn’t stressing over Ashton’s earlier words to me.
My husband’s jaw flexes before commanding, “You aren’t to leave the compound today. All main security will be with me. There will just be enough left here to guard the grounds.”
He turns to leave, snapping his finger at Michael and Victor to follow. I don’t miss the flex of Michael’s hand at the silent command to follow like a dog. His eyes are warm when he nods first at me and then at Kathy before turning to leave theroom. I fidget a bit in my seat thinking of that man loving me last night.
“You ladies don’t have too much fun here, today,” Victor says around a bite of donut before kissing Kathy’s cheek on the way out.
“Wow. Y’allarefucking crazy.” Kathy sighs, shaking her head.
8 Weeks Later
I grip tightly to the bathroom counter as my vision wavers, struggling to catch my breath. The sound of blood rushing echoes through my ears in time with the panic rising in my chest. Two pink lines stare back at me as a vision of my future flashes before my eyes. A potent mixture of relief and fear floods my veins while my mind processes that everything changes after today.
Relief that I will no longer have to tolerate being held in place, with force, as Ashton finds his climax in silence is dizzying. No more being subjected to the least erotic sexual experiences of my life with a husband who very clearly hates me. There’s no romance–not that I want any from him–but it’s all business and not pleasurable in any way. Per our arrangement, now that I’m finally pregnant, he has no reason to ever touch me again.
My hand drops to my lower abdomen, holding the place an innocent soul will grow into a human. Guilt flashes through me, warring with the relief I was feeling seconds ago. I’m bringing another person into this world knowing exactly what will be in store for them. This baby will be born to a mother who barely wants them and a father that will use them as abusiness asset. Am I any better than my father or Ashton Rose?
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on my bathroom door. I freeze, unsure of who entered my bedroom without permission.
“Francesca, you in there?” Michael’s low voice filters through the door.
I quickly open it, pulling him in and throwing the lock. I spin around, pressing my back to the door to find him staring down at the two pregnancy tests resting on the countertop.
