Page 12 of Falling for the Wife

“Jared!” she squeaked. The panic in her stormy gray eyes transformed into a jolt of shock as the full realization of my presence sunk in. Her utter puzzlement was heavily expressed on her pretty face before she fretfully licked her lips and swallowed with difficulty, seeming quite breathless as she stared at me with a horrified, stricken face.

My gaze steadily noted the tinting of her cheeks, reddening with heightened embarrassment as she wrapped her arms around her torso, hiding her breasts that were blatantly peeking through her silk robe. My eyes lingered on her for a moment before my reluctant attention diverted towards the floor.

Ever so stealthily, I grimly glanced downwards before guardedly grasping the offending object, scrutinizing it with great severity.

My jaw instantaneously locked as the word blatantly stared back at me in bold letters.

Pregnant, it starkly stated.

She’s bloody pregnant?

Oh, for fuck’s sake, she’s eighteen!What in the hell was she doing with her body, playing as though it’s some bloody Russian Roulette?

Gritting my teeth, I mustered my haggard courage to settle down and not give this reckless woman a bloody fucking lecture about safe sex.

The past twenty-four hours had been an unmitigated nightmare. It was getting madder by the day. I was the bearer of bad news, and if she thought her life just took a hasty turn for the worst, she could think again. Life was not one to coddle you when the going got rough. Life granted you mini quakes before it shook your world upside down, cripplingly stomping its mighty strength on you. Its blinding power would crush your chest. It would revel in your screams as it gleefully watched you heave for air. It’d torture you, ruthlessly eviscerate you before it would deal you your final blow, one that would ensure a lifelong lesson of numbness, an emotional mayhem guaranteeing permanent trauma.

Even knowing what I knew, my irritated stance hadn’t diminished. Still highly infuriated at her naiveté, I controlled the seething rage coiling as my eyes took in her tear-stained disheveled state.

“Gisele,” I uttered her name, though my eyes scanned the room, painstakingly taking stock of everything—the rumpled bed, abandoned men’s clothes on one of the armchairs, several unfinished champagne bottles to the empty condom packets on the side table.

My already blackened mood descended further into the blazing pits of hell, loathing the turn of events as they enlightened me on how deceiving her good girl image had been. She’d surely fooled the rest of us. Was this how she covered her tracks, by indulging in wild random sex during summer breaks so the security team couldn’t properly monitor the men she was ensconced with?

“The scene of the crime. Where the never-ending debauchery, endless wickedness carrying on until the break of dawn, and indulging in sinful fantasies come into sublime culmination of forbidden decadence happens on the daily.” Arching a mocking brow at her, I pointedly leveled my gaze, analyzing. “I hope it was worth it, Gisele.”

The blush in her cheeks traveled lower, spreading towards her neck and her ample cleavage. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked just as she tried to yank the offending plastic out of my death-grip and miserably failed.

“I’m curious. So, this is what you do every summer? You and your friends gallivant around, hanging off of men’s arms, indulging all your bad habits before going back home and playing the part of a good girl again?”

She glared at me. “I’ve never claimed to be a good girl, and quite frankly, I don’t ever wish to be one.”

“Tough luck. It seems you’ll have to be one since you’re to become a mother, after all.”

She shivered as her lips pressed together. “I-I didn’t plan for it to be like this. I was just so broken after you—” She paused, her horrified expression doubled before she paled.

My frown deepened. She was distraught. Impulsively, I found myself pulling her into my arms. Her cheek rested on my neck, her body rigid as my palm soothed her back. “I apologize if I was being harsh. It was unintentional.”

“It’s my fault…” she breathed out, her body loosening up in my hold.

“Don’t fret. We’ll figure something out.” Cradling the top of her head, I counted to five before lifting her face to me. “I’m sorry to be the one to break this, but I came here bearing bad news.”

“Bad news? Is it about my father?” Those bright exotic gray eyes snapped out of her funk, dismissing her immediate problem at the mere thought of her father.

Since there was no way to lessen the impact, I found it best to simply lay it out in the open, and she could come to terms with it however she could.

“Your father invited me for dinner yesterday,” I began to say with my eyes closely trained on her tear-stained face. “He disclosed he has stage four prostate cancer. He’s known for the past year and waited until it’s gotten to the last stage before enlightening any of us. He refused chemo and all of the doctors’ advice. He only wishes his legacy remains intact once he leaves this life. Since he’s appointed me as his estate’s executor and as your sole guardian, his proposed solution for keeping his legacy unbroken, however, is a tricky one. He wishes for us to marry since I hold twenty percent and you’ll be inheriting his forty. Together, we’d have a solid sixty percent hold of the company. I’ll be taking the reins as Peter previously announced two years ago. But with you by my side, with your vote, the other shareholders wouldn’t question my position any longer.”

“Oh, no. Not him, too!” Her body trembled. Her face contorted. Shock, sadness, and horror played out in her anguished eyes as tears followed, sobbing softly.

I expected hysterics, wailing—anythingbutacceptance. I was the true opposite of her reaction. I was enraged, beyond mental, and in grave pain all at once.

We were in the middle of the room as I held her crying figure. I’d lost track of time, but not once did I let go until Gisele slowly quieted down. Her sobs turned into sniffs. Her shivering body began to still.

“Since you’re pregnant, what are your plans with its father?” Where was the man of the hour? More importantly,whowas the man? If they decided to marry for the sake of the baby, I wouldn’t stand in their way. I was sure there were other options to consider in securing Peter’s legacy and peace of mind without jeopardizing the baby’s future as well. Whatever Gisele decided to do, I’d fully support it either way.

“Nothing.” She shuddered, shaking her head. “He’s a lying, cheating, two-timing asshole. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

Again, as much as I wanted to reprimand her reckless actions, I knew this wasn’t the moment to be contemptuous. Besides, there were more important details to hash over. “Us getting married would solve all of this. The baby requires a father. I’m more than willing to be one if you allow me to be.”