Page 29 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)

He Owns Me

Tatum

My head was in the damn toilet, and for once, it wasn’t because of a hangover, though I wished that was the case.

Nausea hit hard, leaving me clinging to cold porcelain as if I were praying to God.

I stayed there longer than I should have, listening to my breathing and wishing the sickness would go away.

Naeem was already gone for the day, and thank God for that. I didn’t need him hovering over me, asking a hundred questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Shit, I barely had answers for myself.

After rinsing my mouth and splashing cold water on my face, I sat on the edge of the tub, reaching for my phone with shaky hands. Something didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t just because of the vomiting. I had other symptoms as well, such as fatigue, random mood swings, and sore breasts.

I opened my period tracker, not expecting anything wild, but I wanted to rule out the worst-case scenario. However, there was no skirting it. It had been seven weeks and five days since my last cycle.

I blinked at the screen, hoping the app was malfunctioning.

Maybe I’d logged it wrong, or maybe I’d skipped a month and forgotten.

I scrolled back through the dates, double-checked the notes, and even refreshed the app as if that would somehow change the math.

However, it didn’t. I was still seven weeks and five days late. It stared back at me, bold as hell.

This couldn’t be real. The Nexplanon was still in my arm, within its window, with a less than one percent failure rate.

I wasn’t supposed to be part of that one percent.

Everything had been up to date. I hadn’t missed any checkups and had no complications.

Nah, this wasn’t supposed to happen right now, especially not with things already tense between me and Naeem.

I stood, pacing the bathroom, one hand on my hip, and the other still clutching my phone.

This had to be a mistake, at least that was what I wanted to believe, but my gut told me I wasn’t just stressed.

However, before I let myself spiral, I had something I needed to do.

Holding my finger down on the period tracker, I deleted the app, then rearranged the icons to fill the gap.

I’d figured out weeks ago that Naeem had mirrored my phone. When messages I hadn’t opened were suddenly marked as read, locations were shared when I hadn’t turned on tracking, and deleted calls still somehow came up in conversation with Naeem, I knew just how he’d gotten down.

I remembered him once telling me that a man who didn’t know what his woman’s doing didn’t deserve her.

At the time, I thought he was being possessive, but now I know it was a confession.

The most insulting thing about this was that he thought I wouldn’t notice.

He had failed to realize my father left me in charge of all his hard work for a reason.

I was smarter than the average bear. Besides, I grew up around obsessive, controlling men like him who needed to know every move their woman made. He wasn’t the first to try it, but I would make him regret ever crossing this line.

Naeem’s phone displayed the things I was doing in real-time.

He’d have to be watching to catch me looking at the tracker, which I doubted he was.

His meeting with the city planning board had started fifteen minutes ago.

He should’ve been too busy to look at the phone right now. Still, I couldn’t take any chances.

Fuck, I needed to talk to somebody. Two somebodies, matter of fact.

Reaching underneath the mattress, I grabbed my burner. It was usually tucked in my purse, powered off unless I had something to say he didn’t need to hear, but something in my spirit told me to take it out last night. I powered it on and called Sophia and Riley on a three-way video call.

Sophia answered first, barefaced and sipping coffee, and I could tell she had just rolled out of bed. Riley popped in a second later, lashes already done, hair laid, chewing on her breakfast.

“I need to see y’all—today,” I said, skipping the small talk. “We can do lunch at that spot you keep trying to get me to go to, Riley.”

Sophia tilted her head. “Business good or is this a social call?”

“Yes, business is fine. I just wanna spend some time with y’all,” I whined, laying it on thick.

Riley set her fork down. “Okay, but I’m picking you up. You won’t get to back out on me this time.”

“That’s fine. I don’t feel like driving anyway.”

“Then it’s a date. I’ll see you bitches in a little while,” Sophia said, squinting her eyes as she moved her face closer to the phone, studying me. “You good, Tatum?”

“Yes, damn. Don’t start all that,” I replied and ended the call before either of them could ask anything else.

“I’m pregnant,” I said loud enough for Riley to hear over the music she had blasting inside her car.

“Bitch, we—" She stopped singing mid-line, her head whipping in my direction after realizing what I said. “Repeat that!” She ordered as she slammed on the brakes and held out her arm to prevent my chest from slamming into the dashboard.

“You heard me!” I held onto my chest, hand over my racing heart. “Goddamn, Riley! What the fuck? You tryna kill me or something?”

“Un-un, I don’t want to talk about that right now. I'm waiting on you to repeat what the hell you said.”

My head dropped into my palms. “I said I’m pregnant. Now, can you go so no one slams into the back of us?” I replied, reminding her that we were in the middle of the street.

She nodded as she pressed down on the gas. “Are you sure?”

“About eighty-eight percent. I haven’t had a period in almost two months, I’ve been sick, and my titties are sore.”

“Well then, we need to find out for sure. We’re about to stop and get a test.”

“Okay,” I agreed, though deep down, I knew the answer.

Naeem and I had been fucking like rabbits, never once stopping to use protection.

As much as I wanted to blame him for this mess, it wasn’t all on him.

Going raw had been my idea. I trusted my birth control and got too reckless, plain and simple.

The only thing he was guilty of was walking around with sperm strong enough to break through years of science.

In less than twenty minutes, we were parked, the test was purchased, and I’d already peed on the stock inside the CVS Pharmacy’s restroom. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I’d be able to take it home and handle my business. Naeem was entirely too damn nosy for that.

I let out a slow breath, wiped, pulled my clothes back on, and set the test down on the counter. Three minutes wasn’t supposed to feel this long, but it was dragging. My stomach was doing flips, and the more I tried to stay calm, the worse my nerves got.

Hands shaking, I grabbed the test off the counter and lifted it to my eyes.

Two pink lines.

Bold as day.

It was just what I thought.

I stared as my breath hitched in my throat, my heart pounding so loudly it rang in my ears. Maybe I’d seen wrong. Maybe if I looked away for just a second and prayed hard enough, the results would change.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

And then I looked at the test again. The two lines were still there, glaring up at me like a neon sign from hell.

I was pregnant. That was what they meant.

“No. No, no, no.” My voice came out hollow and desperate, barely a whisper.

I stumbled back, my spine hitting the stall, the pregnancy test clenched in my trembling hand. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. I was on birth control. What the fuck!

I sucked in a shaky breath, but that didn’t help. Panic was sinking its claws into me, winding tight around my lungs and making it impossible to breathe. My chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, my mind spinning.

I knew the risks. I knew.

So why was I so shocked? Because this wasn’t part of the plan—especially not now, when everything around me was already moving too fast. Life hadn’t given me a moment to breathe. It just kept dragging me along, whether I was ready or not, and I was so damn tired.

I clutched my stomach, shaking my head. “Fuck!” My voice cracked, hot tears slipping down my cheeks. “Everything just needed to slow down.”

“What does it say?” Riley burst into the stall, out of breath and wide-eyed amid my mental breakdown.

She was way too eager for me, like she didn’t realize carrying this child would land me on death row, and Naeem would be the one handing out the sentence.

Staring at her, I couldn’t speak, and couldn’t move, so I lifted the test with a weak, unsteady hand, letting my best friend see the truth for herself. “It says I’m doomed.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Girl, stop being so theatrical.”

“Forget that. You know it’s true. Naeem won’t let me out of his sight when he finds out I’m pregnant.”

Her response was a slow, infuriating smile that spread across her face. “Your fast ass don’ made me an auntie. Ooooh, I can’t wait to meet the wittle baby!” She squealed and clapped her hands, literally bouncing on her toes.

I snapped, heat surging up my neck, and before I could stop myself, I shoved her hard, making her stumble back, crashing against the stall door. “Riley, I swear to God—”

“Damn, abusive much?” she yelped, rubbing the back of her head.

“Very much so.” I shook the test between us, my frustration rising by the second. “Do you not understand that my life is over?”

Riley scoffed, completely unbothered by my impending demise.

“Girl, you’re being dramatic.” She waved a dismissive hand, still grinning like this was good news. “He’ll only lock you up for nine months. That’s nothing. You can do that in your sleep.”

I gaped at her. “Nine months? Riley, are you dumb? This is a lifetime sentence.”

She arched a brow and crossed her arms. “Well, you should’ve thought about that before letting Naeem shoot up the club. What do you think happens when you don’t use protection?”

I groaned, shaking my head. “I hate you.”