Page 86 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

Vivian shrugs hopelessly, dropping her shoulders. “The past finds its way to us in the end.”

“Yes, and I’m willing to let the past eat me alive. Ophelia’s life is at risk, no thanks to you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” I take a step closer. “Your lies are the reason Phee is in trouble.”

“I was protecting her.”

“No, you were protecting yourself.”

“I love Phee.”

“But not unconditionally. Telling Phee the truth would have kept her out of trouble. You sent her on a wild goose chase to her fucking death.”

“I never intended that to happen.”

“No,” I say, heading to the door. “Why would you, when you have art to sell and a reputation to uphold?” I tug the blinds open, sunlight streaming into the room. Vivian has definitely seen better days, her face a work of art in itself as she glares at me with pity, tears streaming down her face.

I tug the door open, taking my leave.

My phone lights up with a text message.

DAVID: There’s nothing important in the journals. I’ll hold onto them. In the meantime, control your woman before I control her for you.

25

OPHELIA

This day has officially hit rock bottom.

I collapse on the couch, the sun arching in the sky as the afternoon becomes evening. I should’ve asked Salvatore to fetch me a pregnancy test, but like a coward who hides away from the truth, I asked for fucking pain relief.

I preach about telling the truth, and yet I refuse to be honest.

Pain relief would go a long way. My body might need Tylenol more than this baby as I curl up on the couch with a stone lodged in my chest. The area cramps up as anxious thoughts roll through my mind.

Do I keep the baby? Do I abort it? Do I become a single mother?

I could tell Salvatore, but I’m too much of a coward and don’t want to see his face when he realizes we fucked up.

A baby complicates everything, and I’m not ready for our relationship to become even more complex.

We already walked into complicated when I spilled that coffee, but children are forever, and I don’t know if I’m ready to enter the next phase, committing myself to a man who might not be here tomorrow.

I sink into the couch, staring through the window. I have no idea when Salvatore is due home. My head was more focused on other things at the time when he left. I needed to shower and get out of my own head. I needed to rinse off the day, feel better about myself.

But now I feel even worse.

From this height, the vehicles look like ants. I watch them drive down the streets in neat lines, rear lights flashing red as they stop at the intersections.

I sit at the very top of Manhattan, and yet I have never felt this low in my life.

I wanted to be seen, to be appreciated. Salvatore’s attention has always validated me. If the richest man in the city wants me, I must be doing something right. To be loved is to be chosen.

But when you love, you have a long way to fall. And the more I drift off to sleep in his arms, doing relationship things, the more I lose.

Love has never been about gaining. You love for a season and spend the rest of your life in mourning.