Page 39 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back home.” I picked up my purse and beamed at him before turning around to leave.

“Hey, Tess,” he called.

I stopped in my tracks and glanced over my shoulder, attentive to what he'd say next.

He hesitated for a while. “Good luck.”

I sure would need that if I was going to keep living in that mansion for the next two years.

Without a word, I picked up my pace and headed back to my car.

*****

After my brief meeting with Connor, I went back home, feeling only a little less frustrated. My husband hadn't returned yet, and quite frankly, I wasn't ready to see him.

His betrayal had cut deeper than I expected, and I would need some time to heal.

Maybe I was taking this too far, considering I didn't catch them doing anything. But I was too hurt by the compromising position I'd seen them in. Plus, the woman in question had a self-satisfied look on her face, like she was mocking me.

Erik hadn’t only hurt me; he’d also embarrassed me in front of whoever the fuck that woman was.

Don't you think that you're being hypocritical about this situation? He's caught you and Connor in a compromising position, as well, a voice whispered in my mind, pricking my conscience.

Although that was true, it was also true that Erik hadn’t kept his mouth shut, nor did he decide to overlook it. In fact, his reaction was worse than mine because he confronted Connor and threatened to kill him. I did no such thing.

Plus, it all happened at the early stage of our marriage when we hadn't had sex yet. So, it wasn't the same situation, and it didn't carry the same gravity.

For now, I couldn't lay in the same bed with Erik, at least until I was over this. That being said, I decided to relocate to one of the many vacant bedrooms in the mansion.

I settled into my new room and strolled over to open the curtains, and that was when a wave of nausea washed over me. I wasn't exactly sure what caused it, but it was so bad that I had to run into the bathroom.

The door burst open, and I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet seat, vomiting. Once done, I raised my head, feeling a little better but a little dizzy as well. I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth and rose to my feet, flushing the toilet.

I strolled over to the sink, turned on the tap, rinsed my mouth, and then washed my face, the water cool against my skin. I jerked my head up and stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering why I’d just puked my breakfast.

My gaze fell to the gentle swells of my breasts, which appeared a bit larger and fuller. I squinted at the unusual sight. Maybe it was just the top I was wearing. Perhaps it was the fabric that made my breasts look more pronounced. My hands flew to my chest, and as I assessed my voluptuous curves, I realized it wasn't the fabric at all. My breasts were full and heavy.

Recently, my emotions had heightened, making me more sensitive than usual. I'd been experiencing some slight aches all over my body, especially my waist and my head. Also, sometimes, I'd feel a little sick in the morning, but those were all signs of my monthly period.

Wait a minute.

I recalled what date it was, and my eyes widened, my heart sinking into my chest. The realization that I was almost ten days late hit me like a bloody truck, as this had never happened before.

“Am I…?” I muttered to myself, my lips quivering, thinking about the possibility of being pregnant.

It wouldn't be so far-fetched since it hadn't been long since we had sex, and he’d come inside me. Not to mention, it happened during my ovulation period.

My shoulders slumped in dismay. “Oh, fuck, no!”

Chapter 16 – Erik

I didn't realize how used to having her around I'd gotten until now. Her absence left an emptiness in the room that gnawed at me, and the bed felt bigger without her by my side.

My eyes fluttered open, a hand flying to shut off the alarm clock standing lazily on the bedside table. Silence fell, and the reality of my loneliness set in. I turned to her side of the bed, watching the empty space and imagining she was there. But she wasn't.

Tessa hadn't given me an opportunity to explain myself. She had it all wrong, and she wouldn't even hear me out. Perhaps she was more hurt by what she witnessed—or what she thought she witnessed—than I thought.

She'd decided to sleep in a separate room, and although I was against the idea, there wasn't exactly anything that I could do about it. She needed some time to think, to cool off. And if that meant staying away from me for now, then so be it.

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