Page 52 of Fateful Exposure

"I have no idea." I shook my head softly. "Other than Ashton, just you and my mother."

"What about the hospital? Your doctor? What if she's the narc?"

"I highly doubt that. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that shit," Ashton replied, his other hand draped across my stomach.

Maria pressed her index and middle finger to her temple, rubbing with a sigh. "My God. And to think this was almost over. Now, we have to start damage control, and I'm not even sure that will work."

I bristled. Who could have done this? I'd told my mother that the pregnancy was a secret for now, at least until my collection went public, and I trusted her with my life that she wouldn't tell anyone. How else would the media have found out about it?

The test result was safely tucked in my bedside drawer at my apartment, and I doubted anyone was stupid enough to break in and search my place. But before then, it rested on my table for five hours. A feeling of deja vu settled around me. This felt very similar to how things had unfolded three years ago. And it had come from within. My own cousin. But Iris wasn't working here anymore, and some of the employees who had been working here at the same time as she had either quit or been fired.

Even then, no one was allowed to enter my office except when I was in it. Rose made sure of that.

"It had to be someone working here," Ashton muttered, and I craned my neck to look up at him. "It's usually the best way to get information. No one would see it coming, and you wouldn't suspect a thing."

Unlike an hour ago when he couldn't look me in the eyes, now he held me close to his body like a child scared of the dark. I wasn't complaining at all, but it was nice to know that if anything happened to me, he would jump to my rescue or at least confirm that I was doing okay before anything else.

"Do you think it's Alex?" Maria asked, her eyes wide.

"Maybe. Maybe not." The man might be a thief, but I wasn't sure he would stoop so low as to— yeah, it was probably him. He and his little girlfriend had done more than enough damage to my reputation just to ensure that if I came after them for stealing my designs, I wouldn't have any credibility to fight them in court.

And it worked. No one except for Maria believed that I wasn't toxic, especially since my employees released social media statements that I was a terrible boss and had mistreated them. If I had openly come out to say that Alex had stolen my designs, it would have been my word against his.

"I curse the day I met that son of a bitch," I barked, clenching my fists. "When I see him next, I'm going to beat the shit out of him. Both of them."

"As great as that makes me feel, I don't think violence is the best answer right now," Ashton said with a small smile. "We have to focus on releasing your new line. It's the only thing that'll stop all the rumors."

"It's not a rumor if it's true," Maria mumbled, her eyes glued to her phone.

She was right. It wasn't as if the blog post completely lied. I was pregnant by my photographer, but we weren't in a relationship, and I wasn't in love with him—at least, I didn't think I was. So, while there was an atom of truth, it was also very misleading.

"Hey, you guys," Maria suddenly called out, her shoulders tensing. "Am I the only one suddenly realizing that only Selma's name was mentioned?"

I met her apprehensive gaze as realization dawned on me. Then my gaze darted up at Ashton, but he looked back at me with a notably quickened breath, clearly surprised by the revelation.

I sat upright, about to respond, when a knock sounded on the door. Scrambling out of Ashton's hold to sit beside him, I cleared my throat. "Enter."

The knob turned, and Rose walked in, her dark hair swinging around her as she moved. Her eyes danced around the three of us before finally settling on me. "Miss Volkov? Uh…I just wanted to ask if the shoot will continue? The models are getting impatient, and uh…some of us are worried about you."

My heart warmed. "I'm fine, Rose. Thank you. And yes, the shoot will continue. Just give me five minutes, and we'll be right there."

From the downhearted look she gave me, I knew without a doubt that she had seen the news. She turned and left, and the room fell silent.

"This is what he hoped for." Ashton was the one to break the silence. "Society puts so many restrictions on women. They can't be too bold or daring, or they'll risk their femininity, and they can't be too demure, or they'll be bruised and walked all over."

He met my gaze, his eyes glistening with a mixture of sadness and anger. "Three years ago, Alex hoped society would scorn you because God forbid a woman is allowed to be successful without the support of a man. And now that you've fallen and risen again, he's trying to drag you back down with that same tactic just in case you spread your wings and actually fly."

The depth of emotion in his eyes stung me, and I felt a tickle behind my own. I realized I was crying when I felt something dripping down my cheeks.

With a wry smile, Ashton reached forward and wiped one tear with his thumb, then sucked it into his mouth. It wasn't erotic, but it was the most intimate action I'd ever experienced. My breath hitched, and I couldn't look away.

"You are the strongest person I know, peaches,” he said. “There's no one like you. You are both war and woman, and you arefucking unstoppable. Don't let him win. You got pregnant. Boo hoo. So did his mother. That makes you even stronger."

At that moment, all I could think was that I had loved Alex with all my heart. But if I'd fallen so strongly for the wrong person, imagine how hard I'd fall for the right person.

Because the truth was, I was in love with Ashton.

This time, though, I wasn't falling. I was walking with my eyes wide open and my heart beating in a frenzy. Somehow, this man had gotten under my skin, and from every indication, he didn't seem like he wanted to leave. After this kind of news, anyone in their right mind who had a brand to protect would have cut ties with me. In fact, they wouldn't even be here in the first place, involved in such messiness with a scorned fashion designer.

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