Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Crying silently, I flush the toilet before throwing myself onto the mattress. I wail into the pillow, muffling my cries against the silken pillowcase. How did I get here? Not only does the billionaire hate me, but unexpectedly, I’m having his baby again. It’s not all my fault because we used protection, save for a few times when the moment got so hot so fast that we skipped the condom. So this is on him as well, although that fact doesn’t make me feel better.
Hot tears on my cheeks, I burrow beneath the comforter, pulling the sheets over my head. I haven’t slept since we arrived in Iceland, and exhaustion quickly takes over, both emotionally and physically. I can’t believe this is happening, but slowly, my eyes drift closed and my breathing becomes regular.
Yet even as my consciousness dims, I can’t fight off the horrible, gut-wrenching knowledge that Bruce has no reason to give me a second chance. Everything he accused me of is true. I could have informed him of Riley at any time, and it was my own cowardice that kept my lips sealed shut. Yet now, things have taken a turn for the worse because I’m pregnant with his child for the second time. What do I do? I’ve fucked things up so badly, and even though I’m in love with the billionaire, he will never forgive me for this double disappointment.
10
Annemarie
I wake up to the sound of a brisk knock on the door of the private cabin. For a moment, I ignore the sound, pulling the sheets back over my head and rolling to hide my face in Bruce’s chest. I had such a horrible nightmare. I dreamed that he found out about Riley, and that we broke up…
But then, I realize that the space in the bed beside me is empty and cold, and the truth comes flooding back. Bruce did find out. We fought, and he hates me now. It’s all too real, and immediately I feel sick to my stomach. In a panic, I bolt to the bathroom before vomiting again, and the spell only ends when I’ve completely emptied the contents of my stomach.
Yet, as the vomiting abates, the knocking continues insistently, and then I hear a voice from the other side of the cabin door. “Miss Norton?” It’s the flight attendant from earlier. “Miss Norton, I’m here to tell you that we’ve landed.”
I groan, knowing that this means I’ll have to face reality all too soon. “Just a second,” I reply before flushing the toilet and opening the door. The plane is motionless, and the air hostess greets me with a polite smile.
“Miss Norton, we’ve arrived at JFK. Your companion has already de-boarded,” she says matter-of-factly as I emerge. “We’re the last ones on the plane.”
I nod, feeling deflated. I guess Bruce and I were done even sooner than I thought, and my heart drops to my feet, disappointment crashing over my frame.
“Of course. I’m sorry for the delay,” I mumble. “Let me just grab my things.” I fumble for my purse in an overhead compartment, and then clamber down the waiting staircase, only to see Bruce standing on the tarmac, looking up at me with an ice-cold look in his eyes. What is he doing here? But maybe he just wants to say goodbye before we go our separate ways for good.
“Hello,” I say in a quiet voice as I approach him. The billionaire doesn’t reply, but puts a hand to my back and pushes me in the direction of a limo. “What are you doing?” I ask, not sure I want to know.
Bruce doesn’t reply, only glancing over his shoulder once to make sure the chauffeur is carrying our bags. My heart drops in my chest as he pulls open one of the doors and all but forces me into the back seat.
“What’s going on?” I demand. The chauffeur opens his mouth to reply, but then sees the look on Bruce’s face and immediately shuts it. “Bruce,” I protest as the billionaire gets in beside me, aggressively slamming his door, “what are you doing?” I sound like a broken record, but it’s no use. He won’t reply. “Please, talk to me,” I beg, knowing it’s hopeless but unable to resist trying anyway. “Where are you taking me?”
The limo exits the airport, quickly merging into traffic on the freeway. I can see the Manhattan skyline in the distance, getting closer every second, and my anxiety only increases. Bruce still won’t look at me, but his expression is ominous, and a chill runs downs my spine. OMG, he’s not taking me to be arrested, is he? Can you do that for hiding a child? Panic seeps into my frame. Who will take care of Riley if I’m in jail?
It’s not until we’re crossing the bridge into lower Manhattan that finally Bruce speaks, his voice level and dangerous. “Where do you live?” he demands.