Page 8 of Certified Pressure 3 (Certified Pressure #3)

Trill-Land, Jungle Estate

Pressure had been gone for hours and I was trying my best not to drive my damn self crazy thinking about it.

At the same time, I couldn’t help how I felt.

The estate was too quiet, and the silence made it easy for my thoughts to keep circling back to the same shit over and over, which was Pluto, her face, her voice and that little bomb she had dropped that had flipped everything upside down.

I had finally moved all my clothes into Pressure’s room earlier today.

His closet was so big it felt like my own personal boutique, and when I slid my dresses and shoes onto the racks beside his things, I felt like I was stepping into the life I always dreamed of.

I had been arranging everything for hours, folding, hanging and shifting things around until it felt like my presence in this room was permanent.

And when I finally sat down on the edge of the bed earlier and stared down at the ring on my finger, it felt like proof.

The ring sparkled even in the dim glow of the lamps.

It was big, bold and flawless as fuck. Pressure had slipped it on my hand like it was nothing, like giving me this type of luxury was as simple as breathing.

I turned my hand back and forth, letting the light catch the diamond, and I couldn’t help but picture myself walking into rooms as Mrs. Mensah.

The way heads would turn, and the way my whole life would shift.

Everything about the ring said power, money, security, and the type of love most women only dreamed about.

I thought about my mother and all the times she told me that men like Pressure didn’t marry women like me.

I thought about the way she used to roll her eyes and say I was wasting my time chasing after fairytales that weren’t meant for me.

If she could see me now, sitting in his room with a diamond like this on my finger, she’d have to swallow every single word.

That thought made me smile, and for a minute I let myself float on it. The wealth, the lifestyle and the fact that I was engaged to one of the most powerful men in Trill-Land. But then, just like that, my stomach twisted and all the sweetness turned bitter.

Pluto’s face flashed back into my head. That soft, pitiful look she had when she said she was pregnant.

Pregnant... The word alone made me want to scream.

I didn’t even know if she was telling the truth, but the possibility was enough to shake me because if she was, then that baby would be the center of Pressure’s world, and no matter what I did or how much he loved me, I would never be able to compete with that.

The worst part was I hadn’t even known he was fucking her.

That thought alone made my skin crawl. It wasn’t just that he had touched her, but it was that he had given her the same good dick that had me crying into his chest at night, the same good dick that had me walking around this estate on weak legs, smiling at every maid and guard because they didn’t know what I was carrying in my body from him.

The idea of him giving that to Pluto made me sick to my fucking stomach.

While in the tub gripping a glass of liquor, I leaned back against the foam, trying to swallow down the rage, but it burned in me anyway.

I couldn’t believe how much had changed between us.

Never in a million years would I have thought that being with a man like Pressure would destroy my friendship with Pluto.

We had gone from laughing together, plotting together, walking in side by side, to now being enemies.

Our whole world had been flipped upside down because of him.

And the part that stung the most was I knew I had loved her in my own way.

She was my friend, and she had been there for me like I had been there for her, but sitting in this tub, sipping liquor and staring at the bubbles, I realized that none of that mattered anymore.

Because right now, I didn’t care what happened to her.

I hated admitting it, but in the back of my mind, I prayed she wasn’t pregnant at all, or if she was, that something would happen and she wouldn’t carry to term.

It wasn’t that I wished death on a child.

It wasn’t that I was evil, but my focus was my man, my life and my future.

And if that baby existed, it would always stand between me and the life I was now trying to create.

The thought made my chest ache because it reminded me of the test I had taken not too long ago… the one that came back negative.

I should have been the one carrying Pressure’s child.

I should have been the one rubbing my belly and feeling his palm spread across me.

I should have been the one who had that piece of him.

Instead, I was empty, and the girl I once called my best friend might be carrying the very thing I wanted most.

The liquor was making my head warm, and I popped a grape into my mouth, chewing slow while I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

My lips were wet, my skin glowing from the steam and the diamond on my finger sparkling like it was mocking me.

I was the fiancé. I was the one Pressure had chosen, and no matter what, I was going to be the one walking down that aisle.

I let my head fall back against the tub, closing my eyes, and that’s when I heard the door open. It was faint, but I knew that sound anywhere. The weight of it, the slow close and then the scent drifted in—rich cologne, expensive and heavy.

It was Pressure…

I sat up quickly, my heart beating faster, and grabbed a towel.

I wrapped it around me tight and walked into the bedroom, water dripping down my legs.

He was standing at the bar with his back to me, and his broad shoulders taking up space like always.

He poured himself two shots and knocked them back, one after the other.

Then he picked up his blunt, rolled it with the same focus he put into everything, and lit it.

The flame flashed against his face, and when he blew out the first drag, it filled the air with smoke that clung to everything.

I walked over to him, not hesitating, and climbed right onto his lap. He leaned back in the chair, blunt in hand and his eyes cutting to me as if he was already waiting for me to come.

Even though my stomach was boiling with anger over everything that happened earlier, I leaned in and kissed him. My lips pressed against his, and I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He looked at me with the blunt hanging from his fingers, smoke curling around us. I pressed my forehead against his and went on, “I didn’t mean to act the way I did earlier. I was just hurt and angry. I don’t wanna lose you. I just need to know where we stand. Do you… do you really love me?”

He took another hit, let the smoke drift out slow, and his eyes locked on mine. The look sent chills down my spine.

“You wouldn’t be sittin’ on my lap if I didn’t love you,” he said simply.

Relief rushed through me, and I sighed as if that was all I needed to hear. I kissed him again, softer this time, before pulling back to look at him. “So… are you ready to start planning the wedding? Have you told your parents yet?”

Something flickered in his eyes, hesitation so small most people wouldn’t notice it, but I knew him too well. He leaned back, tapped the ash from his blunt, and said, “I’mma go to the crib soon, and talk to ‘em.”

I nodded, even though the little twist in my gut told me not to push. I wasn’t about to ruin the moment, especially after the way shit went down earlier.

I even wanted to ask about this damn baby Pluto claimed to be carrying, but decided to give it a rest for now.

We spent the rest of the night drinking together, passing the blunt back and forth, and laying tangled up in his bed.

I watched him through half-closed eyes as he stared straight ahead as if he was in deep thought.

He was mine. No matter what Pluto had said, no matter what she was carrying, I was the one wearing his ring.

I was the one in his bed, and no matter what, I would be the one walking down that aisle.

The following morning…

The sun wasn’t even out, and my mind was still going, but instead of letting myself spiral over everything like I usually did, I just laid there staring at Pressure.

He was knocked out on his back, his chest rising slow with one hand resting heavy over his stomach like he didn’t have a care in the world.

The blackout curtains were drawn, and the room was still dark.

It was that early morning darkness where the world feels quiet, and all I could think about was how different my life had become.

I wasn’t down the hall anymore. I wasn’t sharing space with other women, waiting for him to pick who he wanted to lay beside.

I was here, in his bed… wearing his ring.

The reality that it was just me and him felt surreal, like I had slipped into somebody else’s life.

I pulled the cover up higher around me, then let it fall when my eyes traced down his body.

It had been weeks since we had sex. Weeks since I felt him stretch me open or make me lose my mind under him.

The whole time, I had been trying to be patient, reminding myself that shit was different now that I was his fiancé.

But laying next to him, his briefs sitting low, and that dick print pushing against the fabric, my patience ran out.