Patrick's POVI simply stood there for hours, at least I'm sure I did, staring at the door that Becky and my mom had departed through. My heart continued to thump inside my chest, and nothing could convince me to shake the suffocating sense that my entire life was absolutely spiraling out of control.Becky's scream was still ringing in my head. The way she'd clutched her stomach in pain, my mother's and Debbie's faces as if I were a monster—it was too much. I rubbed my hand over my eyes and breathed coarsely in. I had to clear my head. I reached for my phone on the bedside table without even looking at the piling messages. They were all from business contacts of mine, I'm sure wanting explanations for the company's financial positions. Two were from old college friends of mine whom I hadn't heard from in decades who'd received word that Giselle had returned and all of a sudden remembered that I existed.Giselle. My jaw was locked. I'd gone to her, pleaded with her in earnest, to help
Giselle's POVI climbed out of my car into a chilly morning, wrapping my coat around me. The hospital entrance was new, opening in wide panels as I approached it, and the antiseptic scent filled my nostrils right away. I could not help but be here today. I had intended to go see the doctor the moment that I had realized that I was pregnant. Even though I had not wished to admit that things were so, I knew that I needed to make sure that it was all right.My head was spinning as I made my way through the very bright halls. Was I ready for this?A child. A life in the balance, suspending in my hands. My hand unconsciously went to my stomach. Whatever had occurred, one thing was certain—I would never let this child feel unwanted. I approached the reception desk, blushing shyly at the nurse behind the desk."I have an appointment," I stated, providing my name.She nodded, striking the computer and facing me once more. "You can go on up to the third floor, ma'am. Dr. Langston will see you
Patrick's POVI just stood there, watching Giselle turn and walk away without even a glance over her shoulder. Something in the way she stood there—proud, untouchable—grasped my chest. The same pride that first drew me to her, the same fire that burned for me. But turned on me now. I grit out a breath, massaging my temples. Why did I run after her?The response could have been straightforward. It ought to have been, for I was compelled to say something, to vent the issues, or leave the past alone once and forever. But down deep within myself, I realized otherwise. I wasn't about to relinquish. And that was a lethal realization. Sighing, I trudged again into the hospital waiting room, where Becky sat next to my sister and mother. The moment she spotted me, she rushed over, her face wearing something half-way between excitement and triumph."Patrick," she panted, resting on my arm. "Can you believe the temerity of her? Playing high and mighty." I didn't answer. My head was stuck to the
Giselle's POVThe hospital was filled the smell of antiseptic, something I was already acquainted with. I sat on the exam table, my hands wrapped around the sides of it like a lifeline as the doctor prodded and poked my belly. My heart pounded excitedly and in fear, my mind racing at a mile per minute. I had been so passionate, so determined to keep my pregnancy a secret. Not out of shame, but because I wanted to be sure, I have the fortitude to fight this one alone."It's all good," Dr. Reynolds said to me, beaming and handing me a copy of my ultrasound. "The baby's coming along, and everything's all right on this scan. Just keep taking your vitamins and resting as much as you can." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Doctor." "Fine. You'll need to return in a couple weeks for a checkup, but otherwise, you're good." I nodded, accepting the ultrasound photos from her. I stroked the photo of the tiny life within me. My baby. There was a whirlwind of emotions suffocating me—fear,
Patrick's POVI stared at my phone, its screen still lit up from our last 'call,' one that hadn't even counted, actually. Giselle blocked me. Blocked. Me. My fists were white-knuckled. My panting came in little jagged gasps, my head spinning with the revelation she'd told me about what'd been happening. She's pregnant.And never said a word to me about it. Better still, she had the temerity to play dumb as if I did already know, like I'd been trying not to Me. I slapped my phone onto the table and sprang up so hard that the chair behind me let out a shriek on the wood floor. Becky, who was lying on the bed, raised a look from the magazine."What's wrong with you?" she asked, lifting one perfectly shaped eyebrow. I stormed the room, running a hand through my hair. My entire body was on fire with fury. "Giselle is pregnant." Stunned silence.And then Becky, who burst out laughing. "Okay? What's it to you?" I scowled. "Because, Becky, the child could be mine." She laughed, that distincti
Giselle's POVI seethed there, fists clenched in tight fists, every part of me seething with rage as I watched Patrick throw open my front door. The door slammed shut behind him, ringing out across the empty room. I took a harsh, raw breath, yanking a hand back through my hair, trying to get a grip on my emotions.How could he? How is he ever going to believe that he can come into my house and accuse me of impersonating Von Howard's son?As if I have to lie. As if I have to deceive some man into speaking something which was originally his. He left.He is the one who informed me that Becky was the woman that he wanted to have children with. And now he was going to pretend like he cared? Now he was going to pretend like he'd been uprooted?I hooted at a loud laugh, shakin' my head. No. He wasn't going to get to relive history because all of a sudden overnight it was good for him. I was reachin' for my phone, my trembly hand scrollin' through my messages, lookin' for that one I'd sent hi
Giselle's POVI'd just entered my penthouse when all the feelings I'd been holding inside all that night came flooding back over me.My trembling hands were untightening the laces of my shoes, crashing them against the back wall. Satisfying clang off the marble counter didn't detract from what was boiling inside me.Patrick. That joke. That liar. That hypocrite.How did he have the audacity to pretend like he suddenly cared about this baby now?My bloody hell, dare him question me, when he'd made it so bloody plain to me back months ago that the only girl he wanted to make babies with was Becky?I laughed roughly, running a hand through my hair.He believed I was messing around. That this was yet another chapter of our constant dance and repulse.This wasn't a game anymore.My phone on the kitchen counter rang, and I picked it up without looking at the caller ID."Don't tell me he's calling me again," I growled, thinking that it would be Nicholas calling me yet again with another tale
Patrick's POVI hung up the phone on the desk and slammed it, and it crunched beneath the force. My hands trembled as I sat back in the chair, gazing out at the cityscape outside my office window.Giselle. That woman had trapped me—again.She thought she was so clever, leaving that disgusting voicemail like it constituted proof of a crime.And now the media had turned against me, and I was the villain of this strange melodrama.I massaged my head in sour frustration.This wasn't about the pregnancy scandal anymore. This was about power.And Giselle wanted to take it all away from me."Sir?" My assistant, Dylan, tapped lightly at the door."What?" I growled, more harshly than I intended.Dylan coughed, slipping in incognito. "There are reporters at the building. They camped here this morning in hopes of catching a quote from you."I gritted my teeth. Of course, they were.Ever since Giselle's little stunt, my PR team had been working overtime to prevent the story from getting out of ha
(Patrick's POV)The sun dipped low as I stood by the balcony door of the hotel suite, a wind in Miami's air brushing my face with whispers of destiny. I barely slept in the last two nights, and Giselle's silence was becoming too deafening. I checked my phone again, trying hard to call hers. Still busy.Becky had been quiet all morning. Too quiet. And I was too distracted to realize it. I just needed to hear Giselle, see her, know that she was alive."Patrick," my mother had tried to say a little while ago, trying to deflect the subject, "Becky's issue. she needs your help.""She needs my help because she fell trying to get my phone," I had answered, my voice colder than I intended it to be.Becky hadn't spoken to me since. And I hadn't spoken to her. I couldn't pretend, not with everything unraveling inside me.My ringing phone jolted me out of sleep. It was Debbie."Hey, Debbie," I said, already sensing the panic in her voice."Patrick, please. I need you to drive me to the contestan
Giselle's POVMy silence and Patrick's lingered behind us once we'd spoken. Not the type that creeps up and skinnies and tickles with anxiety, but instead a dense variety, filled by both parties and left untouched due to neither wishing to add any more bulk into the world. I had plopped on the couch, wrapped my legs tightly into my center, soft light from the lamp in the room casting limp shadow on the ceiling.He hadn't pushed. He hadn't insisted. That alone was reassuring and unnerving. Patrick was the one who always stepped back when I stepped back, and for some reason that always made me feel safer with him. But tonight I had wished he would have insisted—wished he would have pushed me to tell him everything I had kept locked inside.Because the truth was choking me.Victor had called me again.I didn't reply. I couldn't. His final message he ever sent just lingered in my inbox, unread: "You'll never be safe without me."He was right, at least—everything had felt unreal. Because I
Patrick's POVThe pounding waves on the beach was the raw, distant sound of the thunder. I was standing in front of the balcony of the suite, looking out over the ocean. The sky was a darker blue with an orange tint to it as the sun started to set. The peace of what I was seeing was such a contrast to the storm that raged inside of me.I had hoped that time would mend the gap between me and Giselle. But distance and silence could not remove the pain, the disillusion, or the deceptions that had built up between us. I had hoped that if I came here, if I was merely there, I could mend everything.But even then, after I'd made the reconciliation gesture, part of me was like walking on glass.I hadn't spoken to Giselle in reality since we'd talked on the beach. She'd retreated again into her silence, and this wall was there between us. One I wasn't sure I could climb.The ring of my phone reminded me of what was real. It was Grace on the phone."Patrick," her voice grated across the phone.
Giselle's POVThe ocean breeze swept over my hotel room floor-to-ceiling sheer flowing curtains, stroking my skin with the softness of silk. I was standing at the glass, arms crossed, looking out toward the horizon where the sky was dancing with the waves. Miami was another type of wildness—noisy and restive. But I was weary of twinkly lights and further cacophony of applause.My phone went quiet once more. No calls. No texts. Patrick hadn't called or texted me since that strange message he'd sent two nights before—the one where his voice broke, like he was holding something fragile and already letting it go.I wrapped my robe more securely around me and went to the dresser. My hair smelled of vanilla and gardenias, my skin still warm from the bath I'd indulged in a little while ago. Today was meant to be peaceful, but this ache was in my breast. As if something was waking up, something was moving. and I wasn't prepared."Ma'am," one of my guards knocked on the door, entering. "Miss G
Giselle's POVI couldn't breathe.Not because my practice corset was too tight—though it was stuck to me like a vice—because the dressing room walls kept closing in with every untexted moment, every unspoken one, every time I blinked and Patrick's face flashed before me in the darkness.He was there for me.I knew the moment he walked into the lobby. My father had eyes and ears everywhere, but even if he hadn't, I would have known. The air around me shifted. My heart shifted. My phone was in off mode when Becky called me, crying, accusingly, bewildered. I did not need the explanations. Not yet. My world had swerved too far from its axis. I had wished for silence to put it on a straight axis once more.But silence was treacherous. It betrayed things into me I did not want to know."Giselle," my assistant Sarah had called at the door. "Five minutes before last rehearsal. Ready?" "Coming," I had replied, rising from the velvet couch and regarding myself in the mirror.The woman in th
Patrick's POVI couldn't sleep.I reclined on the hotel bed looking up at the ceiling fan, its soft whirring mingling with the hum in my head. I was in Miami but felt more distant from all I ever knew. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows with dance motions on the wall. My phone was silent, face down on the nightstand.Giselle had yet to call me back.I rolled over on my side, pulling the comforter up over my chest like it could shield me from the shame crawling all over my body. Why wasn't she answering? Why wasn't her number still open? Dozens of questions ran through my mind—had something happened to her? Or was she just. done with me?Becky's face remembered, scowling in anger when she pilfered my phone from off my person earlier. How she crumpled. The terror in the shriek she let out. The crying, the trembling of her hands laid over her belly. And I? I had taken a step back. Like a coward.I groaned and sat up straight, running my hand through my hair. I needed some air
I woke up to the soothing whizz of sea waves on the windowpane, sea wind seeping through the almost-closed curtains. My body felt heavy, as if stuck with a sticky of laziness for days. I rolled over and threw my arm over to the bedside table where my phone rested. Missed calls and unread messages streamed before me.Patrick had been phoning me again.I cursed, sitting up and rubbing sleep from my eyes. I'd been staying away from him, not that I wasn't, but because my brain was in turmoil. My heart was a battleground, past and present, duty and desire.A knocking on the door to break me out of my trance."Come in," I roared, throwing the bed back.Nicholas came in, quieter than normal. "You did not call last night. I was frightened."I fabricated a small smile, attempting to bleed some of the tension from the moment. "I was tired. The party wore me out more than I anticipated."He crossed his arms, his eyes pinning me as he nailed me with them. "Or you were avoiding Patrick?"I winced
I awoke to the quiet thrum of the air conditioner, cold blankets drawn high around me as if wrapping me in some kind of protection. Body had recovered and caught its breath, but mind was assailed with memories, questions, and theinine whine that somethings still hung over in the distance, threatening to unravel.I yawned, my whole body hurting from the strain of the last two days, and stretched out to grab my phone. No call from Patrick. That was not expected. Half of me had been expecting him to call a hundred times at least, but nothing. Perhaps he finally gave up. Or perhaps something else was preoccupying him.A gentle knock on my door brought me back to reality."Come on in," I said, shoulders propped against the headboard.Nicholas slid open the door and grinned, impossibly so, after all these years we'd spent living in secret. He placed a tray of breakfast on the nightstand and sat at the foot of my bed."How's it going?" he asked, never once looking away from mine."Good," I a
Giselle's POVThe city sounds outside my hotel room window hummed like a distant lullaby as I shivered on the chaise lounge, staring at my phone. The screen was white, no call, no message. Patrick had called no one, nor did I call him. Half of me wanted to know where we were, but the other half didn't care.I breathed deeply and placed the phone on my side. Miss World was the following day, and I still had some of those last-minute things to sort out. However, my mind was preoccupied by a maelstrom of endless questions—Patrick, Victor, something somewhere in the background.As I was about to hoist myself up, there was a soft knock on the door of my suite. My throat was parched. Was it security? Had something occurred? I walked on my feet, clutching around me the silk robe that I had wrapped around my naked body, and crept up to the door."Who is it?" I asked."It's Nicholas," my brother's reassuringly familiar voice said over the telephone. I swung open the door at once and flung it w