Page 59 of Unholy Nights

Anna nods quickly, already reaching for the cup. "Of course. Just like the other times. I'll tell Miss Emerald it's another of her mother's random tests."

"Perfect." I let a hint of approval enter my voice, knowing it will cement her cooperation. "Bring this to me instead of Madeline when you’ve collected it. With the party, I told her I’d handle it.”

I watch Anna head up the stairs toward Emerald's room where I know she's still getting ready for the day. My gut twists at using Madeline's tactics against Emerald, but I need to know. Need to be certain before tomorrow night.

I grab a quick coffee from the kitchen, avoiding Madeline's voice carrying from her office where she's still terrorizing some poor bastard about tomorrow's arrangements. Twenty minutes later, Anna slips into my study with the filled specimen cup.

"Thank you," I say, already reaching for my coat. "I'll make sure Mrs. Delacroix knows how helpful you've been."

The drive to my office takes longer than usual with the heavy snow, but it gives me time to control the anticipation coursing through my veins. The paper bag from Grace sits centered on my desk when I arrive, exactly where I knew it would be. Discrete, as always.

I lock the door before pulling out the tests and reading through the instructions. My hands actually shake as I carefully dip the first stick into the cup and set a timer on my phone.

Two minutes.

The wait feels endless. I pace in front of my window, unable to sit still, unable to focus on anything except the strip of plastic that will tell me if I've succeeded. If that night in her bedroom was just the beginning of making her completely, irrevocably mine in every possible way.

One line appears.

Then another.

Positive.

Something ancient and wild roars to life in my chest, darker and more consuming than anything I've ever felt for her. My hands grip the edge of my desk as triumph and satisfaction crash through me. She's carrying my child. My blood runs in her veins now, our DNA weaving together to create something entirely new. Something that will bind us together until the end of time.

Something perfect.

My phone buzzes and Kendra's name flashes on the screen. Fucking perfect timing.

"What?" I answer, still riding the high of confirmation that Emerald's carrying my child.

"The Whitakers just called. They're insisting on bringing their daughter and her new husband tomorrow night." Kendra's voice carries that particular tension she gets when Madeline's about to explode. "Mrs. Delacroix requires your assistance with the situation."

Of course they are. Richard Whitaker thinking he can leverage his family's three generations in Emerald Hills to do whatever the fuck he wants which then means I have to deal with Madeline.

I drop the tests in the dumpster outside before heading back to the estate. This past week, Madeline's been so caught up in her precious party preparations that she's almost ignored me. But the moments when she's not obsessing over place settings or flower arrangements, she's been worse than ever to Emerald - cutting remarks, constant criticism, threats about that Swiss school that aren’t even really threats since she’s already bought the plane ticket and paid the tuition.

Her obsession with both the party and tormenting Emerald has reached new levels. Like she's trying to prove something. Establish dominance one last time before... what?

I pull into the circular drive just as another delivery truck arrives. Through the windows, I can see my wife in full dictator mode, but there's calculation behind her eyes when they meet mine.

That look sets off warning bells in my gut that I've learned never to ignore.

I find Madeline in the formal living room, which has become a staging area for tomorrow night's party. Her perfect posture is rigid with tension as she snaps orders at a trembling florist about tomorrow's centerpieces. Through the doorway, I can see Emerald curled in an armchair, half-asleep despite the chaos around her. Dark circles shadow her eyes even through her makeup, and my fingers itch to take her upstairs, wrap her in my arms, and let her rest. To protect her and our child from everything—including her mother.

Our child.

The words still feel surreal, even with the proof I just saw.

"Cohen." Madeline's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Finally. We have a situation with the Whitakers."

"I heard." I keep my voice neutral as I tear my gaze from Emerald. "What exactly do they want?"

"To bring their newly married daughter and her husband." Her lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Normally I wouldn't care, but given the seating arrangements... perhaps you could speak with Richard? After all, you handle his family's legal affairs."

There's something in her tone that sets me on edge. Like this is a test. But of what?

"Of course." I pull out my phone, already composing a text to Richard that will shut this down immediately. "I'll handle it."

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