Page 44 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

Someone cackled behind me. I didn’t have it in me to see who it was. I fought tears as they escorted me down the elevator and out of the building, shoving me outside.

Once on the sidewalk, the sky cracked and I turned my face up to the cloud directly overhead. It was still sunny, the clear blue skies marred by the only dark cloud making its way across the city.

I reached into the small pocket of my summer dress and pulled out the sonogram picture, a choked sob wracking through me.

“I didn’t get to show you to your father, but I think it’s for the best,” I whispered, walking aimlessly forward and keeping my eyes on the little black-and-white photo. “I’m sorry Daddy and his family are assholes.” My eyes burned, and I wiped tears off my face angrily. They—the Ashfords—didn’t deserve my tears. They didn’t deserve a single thought from me, never mind a heartache.

I was such a fucking idiot to think doing the right thing would accomplish anything. Instead, it got me thrown out. Like trash.

Gosh, how could I have fucked up so badly? I never broke the rules, always did the right thing. And here I was—fucked. Literally and figuratively.

I wiped my face again. I had to get myself together. Get my shit together.

Holding the sonogram photo with one hand, I rubbed my flat belly with the other. It would be just the three of us. Baby, Billie, and I. We could survive this.

I wished I was back in the hotel room with my sister.

“We’ll be the three musketeers,” I rasped, trying to convince myself it was for the best. I would call all the shots in terms of raising a baby. It was better all the way around. I was aware of alarmed and concerned looks from passersby, but I ignored them.

I heard the shouts too late. I raised my head and my instinct took over. I twisted my body in an attempt to protect my stomach just as I went flying through the air.

Pain exploded through me and the world ceased to exist.

Chapter18

Odette

Numbness. Emptiness. Pain.

Peeling my eyelids open, I blinked against the brightness. My surroundings registered. The white walls. The scent of bleach.

A hospital. I was alive.

I closed my eyes again and felt the memory come rushing in. I might have been angry—furious even—but I’d gone into his building full of hope. And I came out… empty. Broken.

My lids slowly opened, and I saw him. Byron’s head hunched over my hand while he gripped it. My heart made a dull thump in my chest. Ache. In my body and my heart. He was here. How?

I tried to recall what happened. But the last thing I remembered was being escorted out of the building.

“How long was I out?” I rasped, darting my tongue over my bottom lip.

Byron’s dull blue eyes met mine. He looked like hell. His hair ruffled and messy as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Stubble covered his face, and deep black circles surrounded his eyes. His shirt was bloodied, his tie hanging loose and crooked.

I saw pictures of him inForbes—pristine, perfect—he was far from it now.

“Baby, you’re awake.” He cupped my face, his big palms gentle. So damn gentle that it brought tears to my eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Disoriented. Confused. Achy. Tired.

“Let me call for a doctor.”

“No. I don’t need a doctor.” He was already on his way to fetch one, but my words stopped him. “How long was I out?” I repeated.

“A few hours.” He took my hand back into his, and it was only then I saw it. My sonogram photo bunched up in his palm. Of our baby. My baby.

“Baby?” I barely managed to say the word.

His jaw pulsed, agony in his eyes matching what I now felt in my heart. The feeling that threatened to swallow me whole.