Page 34 of Portrait of a Protective Billionaire

"They're maternity clothes," he gestures. My neck snaps up at him, my mouth agape, and my eyes wide. He acts a bit startled, "I'm assuming you don't have any yet."

"These are maternity??? They're so lovely!" I exclaim. He chuckles.

"Were you planning on buying non-appealing clothes?" he queries.

"No, but they're all typically ugly," I voice, eyes glued to a flowy, yellow blouse. "These are gorgeous. Holy shit, I love them!"

"Of course," he agrees.

Of course? This is not the obvious next step after finding out you're stalked. Nobody's portrait artist is pregnant. The rush of excitement always leads to impulsiveness.

My arms wrap around his torso, and before I can fully understand the weight of my action, I bury my face into his chest; it's so comforting, but it doesn't take long for the red sirens to start blaring in my head. What am I doing? The hug lasts about two seconds before I pull away in panic.

"Sorry," I mutter. Evan observes me. Face neutral. Thinking. Then, he chuckles. His arms press me back into his chest.

"Cute," is all he articulates. I return the embrace and burst into tears. I haven't been hugged in years. And I didn't realize how much I miss the touch of another human I actually like. A touch that doesn't feel dirty. A touch that makes me happy. I don't want it to end.

"Hey, you're okay," he pets my head.

"I'm grateful," I mumble, muffled by his chest.

"I appreciate it. But you shouldn't be crying over this. This is how you should always be treated, but I understand that another asshole wasn't the best example," Evan conveys. He holds my reddened, wet face in his hands and wipes away any fresh tears with his thumb. Thelookis back, but I can somehow see the admiration behind it now.

"I've never met someone like you. Someone so strong, and I don't think I could've made it to where you are now. You've already been through enough, and I'm here to make it easier. Will you let me make it easier for you?"

I was proving myself when I didn't need to. All this forced me to bounce back when my ball was still deflated and punctured. Even when—by pure luck—I was given a safe haven with one of the most powerful men on this earth, I was still trying to prove to him that I didn't need his help. It was obvious I did. And now he is directly pleading to me to let him help me.

I nod, "Yes," my voice is weak. His shoulders fall in relief.

"Good," he expresses, holding me close again. I feel him press a kiss on the top of my forehead. I could die happy.

"That's all I wanted to hear, Isabella."

Chapter fifteen

Tease of Freedom

Iamfinallygoingoutside. After months of staying in, I'm going out for a doctor's appointment. The breathtaking penthouse view is barely breathtaking now. If anything, the most air it takes out of me is a deep sigh of boredom. The most lavish places become dull when you see them daily.

I am so excited to feel the sun on my skin again from the flat ground of the earth and not the windy balcony. I can't wait to see and hear and interact with other people. The air conditioning of the apartment is frigid now. It hasn't stopped cooling the air in ages. Sometimes, I'd turn it off and let the penthouse warm up as I painted the park from memory. The sweat forming on my brow was a nice change of pace. But the anticipated rush of going back out into the world is the only warmth I need to keep me excited, cold air conditioner and all.

Evan walks past me as I am dressed up and waiting to go. "Where are you going?" Evan inquires.

Where am I going? What was he talking about? The doctor's appointment is today, right?

"You said I was going to get a prenatal checkup today," I explain. Realization hits him like a truck.

"Oh! I should've explained better. I have a doctor coming to visit you; we don't have to go anywhere," he declares.

My heart hits the ground.

"I'm sorry, we just can't risk you walking around the streets," Evan tries to explain, but I'd already heard this explanation too many times, and I can't bring myself to care. What good is being safe if I feel like a corpse under the man-made, fluorescent lights and sterile living conditions in which I was a hermit for so long?

"Not even a car ride?" I plead. At this point, I'll take anything.Hewon't know. It'd be quick, "Ten minutes at the park or something; I need to get out of here, please." I will fall to my knees if I need to.

"I…" Evan sighs. "Maybe after the check-up, but let's focus on this for now, all right?" he said, walking off to the living room. The phone is ringing.

"Yeah, okay," I agree. Everything is okay in the true sense of the word. It could be worse, but it could be so much better. I don't deserve to have so much of my life consumed by one person, but someone or something thinks I do.

---