Carrying His Heir, Plotting His Fall

The guard's massive hand clamped around my collar before my feet even touched the asphalt. Damian's black sedan swerved to avoid a passing cab, but the traffic light turned green and a wall of yellow taxis swallowed his car whole. The guards escorted me back to the penthouse under strict orders not to let me leave.

Submission brought no peace. It only invited more humiliation.

Late that night, bile burned the back of my throat. I hunched over the guest bathroom toilet, emptying my stomach until my ribs ached. The severe morning sickness drained the last ounce of fight from my muscles. I wiped my mouth with a cold towel and stepped out into the dark hallway.

A sharp, wet slapping sound echoed off the high walls.

"Oh fuck, Julian!"

The master bedroom door stood wide open. Silver moonlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a cold glow over the Central Park skyline.

It also illuminated the two naked bodies thrashing on my custom king mattress.

Julian pinned Chloe to the bed. He had her legs shoved all the way back, pale calves hooked over his thick forearms. He drove his hips forward, burying his hard cock deep into her with a violent, wet smack.

Chloe threw her head back against my silk pillows. Her heavy breasts bounced with every brutal thrust, dark pink nipples flushed and hard.

"Julian… fuck… harder!" Chloe screamed. Her fingers clawed at the expensive sheets I had personally picked out in Paris. "Fuck me to death. I'm yours. I'm ten thousand times better than your stiff fucking wife!"

Julian grunted, a cruel, rough sound tearing from his throat. He pulled almost completely out, then slammed back inside her.

"Little slut," he growled. "You're much tighter than her."

He raised his large hand and brought it down hard on her bare ass. A sharp, stinging crack rang through the room. A bright red handprint blossomed across Chloe's pale flesh.

"Fuck, yes!" Chloe moaned. Her hips bucked up to meet his violent strokes. "Ruin my pussy, Julian. Fill me with your fucking cum."

"I'm going to breed you," Julian snapped. Sweat gleamed on his broad shoulders.

The heavy oak headboard slammed repeatedly against the wall. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each impact drove a spike behind my eyes.

I stood frozen in the hallway shadows. My fists clenched so hard my fingernails broke the skin of my palms. Warm blood pooled in the creases of my hands and slid silently down my fingers to drip onto the hardwood floor.

This was my marriage bed. My sanctuary. Now it was a slaughterhouse for their sick desires.

A final, guttural shout ripped from Julian's chest. He drove his hips flush against hers, holding himself deep as he came. Chloe let out a long, trembling wail, wrapping her legs around his waist to trap him there.

For a long minute the only sounds were their heavy, wet pants.

Julian finally pulled out. A thick string of semen stretched between them before snapping onto the ruined silk sheets.

He didn't bother grabbing a towel. He snatched his black silk robe off the armchair, shoved his arms through the sleeves, and tied the belt loosely around his waist. His chest still heaved; sweat dripped from his dark hair.

He strode out of the bedroom and stopped in the hallway.

His dark eyes flicked to me. He took in my pale face, my trembling frame, and the utter exhaustion in my posture. He felt absolutely zero remorse.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the heavy silver keys to his Maybach, and tossed them onto the floor. They clattered against the wood, sliding to a stop inches from my bare toes.

"Chloe is sleeping here tonight," Julian commanded. His tone was flat and bored. "Go book a room at the nearby Four Seasons."

I stared at the keys. "You want me to leave my own apartment so you can sleep with your secretary in my bed?"

"I want you out of my sight," Julian corrected. The smell of sex and sweat rolled off his skin. "Don't get in the way here and ruin our mood."

"This is my home." I pointed a bloody finger at the floor. "I paid the down payment on this penthouse. I picked out that bed."

"And I pay the mortgage," Julian shot back. "I pay for the electricity keeping the lights on. I pay for the clothes on your back. Pick up the keys and leave."

"No."

Julian's jaw tightened. He closed the distance between us and grabbed my upper arm. His fingers dug into my bicep like steel clamps.

"Don't test my patience tonight," he warned. "I just fucked my secretary in your bed, and I feel fantastic. Do not ruin my high."

"Or what?" I challenged, glaring up into his cold eyes. "You'll have your guards drag me out? Let the doorman see your pregnant wife thrown onto the street at two in the morning?"

"If I have to," he stated.

Chloe appeared in the bedroom doorway. She wore one of my white satin nightgowns. It hung loosely over her curves. She leaned against the doorframe, a smug, satisfied smirk playing on her red lips.

"Julian, don't be too mean to her," Chloe taunted. She ran a hand through her messy blonde hair. "She's hormonal. Plus, the Four Seasons has great room service. She can order some crackers for that nausea."

I yanked my arm out of Julian's grip. "Take off my nightgown, Chloe."

"Why?" Chloe asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Julian likes it on me. He says pure white looks better on a woman who actually knows how to please him."

I took a step toward her.

Julian stepped into my path, blocking me entirely like a massive stone wall.

"I told you to leave, Victoria," he said. "Are you deaf?"

"I am not going to a hotel." My voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "I am going to the guest room. And tomorrow I am calling a moving truck."

"You aren't taking a single piece of furniture from this house," Julian snarled.

"I'm taking my clothes and my dignity," I replied. "You can keep the whore and the ruined sheets."

I turned my back on him and walked toward the guest room.

"Victoria!" Julian barked.

I didn't stop. I walked inside and slammed the door shut, twisting the lock until it clicked.

My entire body shook. I sank to the floor, leaning my spine against the cool wood of the door. The bloody crescent marks on my palms throbbed with a dull ache.

Heavy, angry footsteps approached the door.

Julian slammed his fist against the wood. The loud bang made me flinch.

"You think you can lock me out in my own house?" Julian yelled through the door. "You think you hold any cards here?"

I pressed my hands over my mouth to muffle my heavy breathing.

"I'm cutting off your cards by morning," Julian promised, voice heavy with venom. "Every credit card. Every bank account. Let's see how much dignity you have when you can't even buy a cup of coffee."

The footsteps retreated. The master bedroom door clicked shut.

I sat in the dark, the silence pressing down on me like a physical weight. He was going to cut me off entirely. He was going to trap me here with no money, no escape, and no power.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The screen lit up the dark room.

I had one unread message from Damian.

I saw what happened. The guards are gone for the night. I left something in your mailbox downstairs. Get it before sunrise. It changes everything.