Page 20 of Violent Reign (Violent Kingdom)

It must be a testament to just how much this has ruined me, because all I can think about with Nathan’s voice in my ear is Rome.

Rome’s eyes. Rome’s body. He didn’t look away from the horror show, not once. Not until they shot him and he didn’t have any other choice. I can get through this if I can think of his eyes now, so I do. All that blue, like the sea. Light blue, dark blue, flecks of white like waves. The ocean on the shore. The ocean is big enough to swallow all of this up—all my pain, the churning in my gut, and even the screeching disgust at having Nathan’s hands on me. What Nathan is about to do to me is nothing compared with the ocean.

The elevator dings, the door opens, and we’re at the doors of his penthouse. Nathan opens the door with a perfunctory jerk. “Into the bedroom. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“Give me a minute.” I make my eyes as big and pleading as I can, praying he won’t notice that I never fucking do that. “I just need...I need a couple minutes to get myself together.”

Nathan’s eyes narrow. “Five minutes. A moment more, and I break the door down.” Oh, so he’s being generous. “And then I expect you to perform your wifely duties. With a smile, Aves.” He puts on his own smile and saunters off toward his bedroom.

I run for the bathroom.

It’s Nathan’s apartment, yes, but Jennifer used to stay here. And Jennifer got pregnant. I want to cry for her, break down sobbing for her, but I can’t. She must have been excited when she took that test. Unless she knew about Nathan—about who he really was. He hid it from me all these years. It’s plausible that he could have hidden it from her right up until he put that knife in her back.

In the bathroom I flip the lock, throw the lights on, and open the cupboard. If Jennifer has stocked up on pregnancy tests it’ll break my heart for her all over again, but it could save me. It could save me.Please, Jennifer, save me.

Chapter Twelve

AVERY

My hand hitsthe box of pregnancy tests just when I’m ready to give up. Jennifer hadn’t kept a stash, neatly arranged. A single box has been shoved in the back of the cupboard, the corner crumpled. Two tests left. I rip one open and piss on it faster than I’ve ever done anything in my life.

No purse, no phone—but this kind of test doesn’t need a timer. It has one, right there in the little window. I focus on breathing while the bars tick up from left to right.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

My heart feels like the wind from helicopter blades, thatthud thud thudthat goes in every direction for miles.

The progress bar reaches the end.

PREGNANT.

Jennifer didn’t bother with the cheap tests—the ones with two pink lines, and neither did Nathan. He made her take tests, too, didn’t he? After he forced her to have that abortion. He did, and he wanted to be sure. No guessing games. No pink lines. Just words, on a little digital screen. Well, in my case, it’s one word.

PREGNANT.

I screw up my eyes, closing them tight, and look again.

PREGNANT.

Okay. It’s not changing. It has made up its mind. And I don’t have time to take another one. The answer isn’t going to change. I’m pregnant.I’m fucking pregnant.

Nathan knocks on the bathroom door. “Time’s almost up, Aves.” He almost sounds excited, like a normal husband would be on a wedding night. That he’s looking forward to this makes my chest burn incandescent with rage. The feeling of wanting to vomit probably doesn’t help.

“Give me a fucking minute,” I snap. “Jesus Christ!”

He snickers. “You’ve got three, m’dear.”

PREGNANT.

I don’t have time to process what it means. Nathan knocks on the door again. He’s going to be impatient. He’s not going to wait much longer. I am pregnant. There is a baby growing inside of me. A baby that could only have been conceived on the afternoon I married Rome. Nathan’s getting a wedding night baby alright, but it’s not his. It’s Rome’s.

I shove the used test back into the box.Careful now.I put the box back in the cupboard and shut the door at the exact moment the bathroom door bursts open.

Nathan’s taken off his jacket and his shirt. “Time’s up, Avery. Didn’t you hear me?”

I wipe my hands down the front of my wedding dress. It’s never going to be worn again, and I don’t care about the fabric. “Of course I fuckingheardyou.” Though I’m annoyed, my voice trembles with emotion a little. Must be the life-altering news I just learned. And Nathan, that sick fuck, likes the weakness my voice has given away. His eyes light up and his eyes bloom with a sort of tenderness. A dangerous thing. Because he’s not going to be tender with me.

In fact, I don’t want him to be tender. That would be even worse.

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