Chapter 2

I don't remember how I got home.

The world was a blur of pain and nausea, far worse than any morning sickness.

He came in later, humming, loosening his tie.

"Rough day at the club?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He looked at me, a flicker of something in his eyes. Annoyance?

"What are you talking about?"

"The bet, Ethan. Tiffany. Your friends. The wedding night."

He laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Oh, that? Just some locker room talk, Sarah. You know how guys are. Tiffany has a weird sense of humor."

"They said I was drugged. That five of them... that you orchestrated it."

My voice broke.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're being hysterical. You were tired, you drank too much champagne. We had an amazing night. You said so yourself."

He came closer, tried to touch me. I flinched away.

"Don't," I whispered.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't be like this, Sarah. It was a joke. A stupid, tasteless joke, okay? I'm sorry if you overheard and misunderstood."

Misunderstood? Five guys serviced her.

I felt sick.

I backed away, my eyes scanning the room, our bedroom, our sanctuary.

It felt tainted, violated.

Then I saw it, a tiny, almost invisible lens near the ceiling cornice, pointed at the bed.

"What is that?" I pointed, my finger shaking.

Ethan followed my gaze. For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised, then his face smoothed over.

"Oh, that. Security. With all the valuables in the penthouse, you can't be too careful."

"In the bedroom? Pointed at the bed?"

"Of course. It covers the main room. You're pregnant, right? I knew it."

My heart, already shattered, seemed to stop. How could he know?

He smiled, a horrible, predatory smile. "I was so vigorous that night, I just knew you'd conceive. My sperm is potent."

He stepped towards me, his eyes gleaming. "We made a baby, Sarah. Our baby."

He didn't deny the camera recorded. He didn't deny anything, not really.

He just twisted it.

I felt a cold dread creep up my spine. This wasn't the man I married. This was a monster.

"I'm pregnant with twins," I said, the words tasting like poison.

His smile widened. "Twins? Even better. Double the legacy."

He reached for me again, his hand on my shoulder, heavy and proprietary.

"We need to celebrate."

I felt like I was drowning.