WORK FOR A BABY

PAULINE

The silence of the bedroom was heavy, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the mantle. After his cold ultimatum at breakfast, I had spent the day in a state of numb exhaustion. I knew I couldn't escape. I knew that if I resisted, my brother Leo would pay the price in blood.

As evening turned into night, I prepared myself. It was the most professional, soul-crushing preparation of my life. I didn't cry anymore, I simply did what was necessary to survive. I bathed, I brushed my hair, and then I took off my clothes. I climbed under the heavy silk duvet, feeling the cool fabric against my bare skin. I lay there in the dark, waiting for the warrior to return from his battlefield.

Then, I heard it. The heavy, rhythmic thud of his footsteps in the hallway. He didn't walk like a husband coming home to his wife, he walked like an Alpha entering a territory he intended to conquer.

The door swung open. Ricardo stood there, his tie loosened, his eyes dark with the remnants of a day spent in power plays. He looked at me, his gaze sweeping over my form hidden beneath the blankets.

"I see you’ve made a choice," he said, his voice like grinding stones. "Take your clothes off, Pauline. I don't want to waste time."

"I am already ready, Ricardo," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I am nude. I am waiting."

He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced by that cold, hard mask. He didn't say another word. He turned and walked into the bathroom. I heard the roar of the shower, a fast, efficient bath. A few minutes later, he walked back into the room, completely nude.

I shouldn't have looked. I should have turned my head away in shame. But I couldn't help it. He was a specimen of raw power. His body was covered in light scars from past shifts and battles, and his presence was overwhelming. My eyes traveled down, and I saw him, thick, long, and ready. It was a sight that should have terrified me, yet there was a primal part of me that felt a traitorous pull toward him.

He climbed onto the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He didn't use foreplay. He didn't whisper sweet things. He gripped my hips with his large, calloused hands and pulled me toward the edge of the bed.

"This is for Maria," he muttered, though his breath was hitching.

He entered me then. I was dry, my body tense with the fear of the unknown. I gasped as I felt him stretch me, the friction stinging against my skin. But he was an Alpha, and I was a wolf of his pack. My body betrayed my mind. Almost instantly, as he began to move, I felt the heat rise. The dryness vanished, replaced by a sudden, slick wetness that welcomed him deeper.

"You're wet, Pauline," he whispered, his voice losing some of its edge. "Do you hate me so much that you want this?"

"I hate what you’re doing," I panted, my hands clutching the sheets. "But I cannot change what my body feels for its Alpha."

He didn't respond with words. Instead, his pace changed. The harsh, punishing thrusts slowed down. He leaned over me, his chest pressing against mine, and his hands moved from my hips to cradle my face.

Suddenly, he kissed me. It wasn't the kiss of a captor, it was passionate, desperate, and deep. It was as if he was trying to drown out the reality of our situation with the heat of the moment. We moved together in the dark, the rhythm shifting from a war to a dance. I found myself arching my back, meeting him halfway, my heart racing not with fear, but with a terrifying pleasure.

When it was over, he didn't pull away and go back to his study. He collapsed against me. To my utter shock, he rested his head on my chest, his breathing heavy and ragged. He looked like a baby seeking comfort, his guard finally down.

I stayed frozen. I wanted to push him off. I wanted to scream that he couldn't use me and then sleep on me like a pillow. But as his heartbeat slowed against mine, I found my hand hovering over his hair. I didn't touch him, but I didn't push him away either.

Eventually, he fell into a deep sleep, his head still resting right over my heart.

The next few days were a blur of tension. I lived my life like an employee in a high-stakes firm, keeping my head down and performing my duties. I ate with the family, I managed the household staff, and I waited for the phone to ring.

Every time a phone buzzed in the house, my heart stopped. I lived in fear of Maria’s voice. Every time she called to complain about a cold meal or a harsh word from Leo, I knew I would pay for it that night.

One afternoon, I was in the garden when I saw Ricardo on the terrace, talking on his cell phone. His face was red with anger.

"She’s crying again, Leo?" Ricardo shouted into the phone. "If she’s crying because you’re ignoring her, then you’d better start paying attention. I don't care if you don't love her. She is carrying your child. Treat her like a queen, or I will make sure Pauline feels every bit of your neglect."

I turned away, my stomach churning. It was a never-ending cycle. Maria used Ricardo’s protectiveness to punish Leo, and Ricardo used me to punish Leo back. We were all trapped in Maria’s web.

That evening, the atmosphere at dinner was suffocating. Evelyn kept watching me, her eyes darting between me and Ricardo.

"You look tired, Pauline," Evelyn said, her voice dripping with mock concern. "Perhaps the 'training' for a new heir is taking its toll?"

"I am doing what is required of me, Evelyn," I said professionally, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

Ricardo slammed his glass onto the table. "That’s enough. Pauline, upstairs. Now."

I stood up without a word. I walked to our room and waited. I didn't take my clothes off this time; I sat by the window, watching the moon rise over the trees.

When Ricardo entered, he didn't look angry. He looked determined. He walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Maria called again," he said quietly.

"I know," I replied. "I heard you shouting earlier."

"She says Leo spent the whole night in his office. He didn't even check on her when she had morning sickness."

I turned to look at him. "Ricardo, she is grown woman. Leo is a busy man. You can't force him to be a doting husband through me. It’s not working."

"It has to work," he said, pulling me up to face him. "Because if it doesn't, then everything I’ve done to you has been for nothing. I have to believe that this will protect her."

He started to unbutton his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. There was no slap tonight, but the words he spoke next felt like a blow to the gut.

"We are trying for another baby tonight," he told me, his voice flat. "And every night after that until it happens. If Maria is going to be a mother, you are going to be one too. That is the only way this ends."

I looked at him, searching for any sign of the man who had kissed me so passionately a few nights ago. But that man was gone, replaced once again by the Alpha who saw me as a mirror.

"And what happens when the babies are born, Ricardo?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Will we still be mirrors then? Will you hurt me if the baby cries? Will you love me if Leo loves the child?"

Ricardo stopped, his fingers hovering over the last button of his shirt. For a split second, he looked lost. But then he hardened his jaw and stepped toward the bed.

"We’ll deal with that when the time comes," he said. "Now, come here. We have work to do."

I walked toward him, a prisoner of my own body and my brother’s mistakes. As he pulled me into his arms, I wondered how much longer my heart could take being the middle ground of a war that had no winners.