Page 51 of A Touch of Chaos

He released her all at once and came on her ass.

Helen collapsed to the table, her hand going to her neck as she gasped for air.

Theseus zipped his pants and adjusted his jacket. He shifted until he was in her line of sight.

“The ball’s in your court,” he said as he fixed his cuff links. When he met her gaze, he found she was glaring at him, hatred in her watery eyes. Perhaps he had broken her a little. He gave her a cold smile. “Don’t disappoint.”

Theseus left the Acropolis for home, teleporting to his office. He had been here less and less over the last fewweeks despite Phaedra’s quickly approaching due date, but he could not help the fact that his long-awaited plans were unfolding at the time of his son’s birth. The reality was that opportunities could be missed, but Phaedra wasn’t going anywhere.

He had not really thought long on becoming a father, because impregnating Phaedra had been a necessity—as necessary as marrying her.

Because he had to be one ofthem—just a man with a beautiful wife and a child on the way.

For a moment, he let himself think of everything he might be capable of if he did not have to play this game, but he would know soon enough.

It was part of the plan.

His eyes fell to his tidy desk, to a perfectly stacked set of papers—minus the one on top that was skewed just a hair. It was not how he had left it.

“Where have you been?”

His gaze shot up, level with Phaedra, who was standing in the doorway. She had one hand on her swollen belly.

He wasn’t sure what set him off—the fact that someone had been in his office or that she had intruded so quickly, as if she’d been waiting for him,watchingfor him.

Maybe it was her tone, which hinted at her irritation.

Either way, anger curled through him like a hot knife.

“Is that blood?” she asked, taking a step forward.

“Have you looked through my things?” he asked.

Her eyes widened, and she halted. Now she had two hands on her stomach.

“What?”

He came around the desk.

“Did you look through my things?” he repeated as he advanced on her.

She backed away into the hallway.

“Theseus—” she pleaded, flinching as her back hit the wall.

He grabbed her by the hair, and she cried out.

“Answer me!”

“Please, Theseus,” she begged as a guttural sob escaped her mouth. “I would never—”

Someone jerked his arm—a young girl, one of the maids. Theseus swung at her.

“Leave her alone!” Phaedra shrieked as the maid went flying, crashing into the opposite wall.

Phaedra sank to her knees, reaching toward the girl who lay across from them. She was still, her neck poised at an odd angle.

Phaedra’s body shook with sobs as she repeated in a hushed voice, “Theseus. Please, please, please.”

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