Fourteen

Zachary’s POV

I felt sick, not the kind that comes with fever or pain, but the kind that rots you from the inside out. The encounter I had with her was what I will never forget.

Her words wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.

“You are no better than him, Zachary.”

I clenched my fists as I stood there, watching her walk away from me. No, walk away from us, from whatever twisted connection I had convinced myself existed between us.

I had saved her. Hadn’t I? I thought to myself.

The image of that drunk man gripping her wrist flashed through my mind. The way she struggled, the fear in her eyes, the fury, and then another image followed.

Mine, my hand around her waist, my voice forcing her to listen as my body corners hers.

I exhaled sharply. “Damn it…”

As much as I didn’t want to admit it… she was right. I had done worse, all in the name of what I called justice or unjust justice.

I ran a hand through my hair and nearly chased after her. My legs even took two steps forward, but I stopped.

What would I say? Sorry? I didn’t mean it? I only wanted you?

The excuses tasted bitter before they even formed. Instead, I sank to the ground, right there on the same cold pavement where she had stood seconds ago.

Her scent lingered faintly in the air, soft, floral, and wild. It clung to my senses like a curse as I inhaled deeply.

“Why do you do this to me?” I muttered to no one.

Every breath drove me crazier. The more it faded, the more desperate I felt.

I dragged myself up eventually, my body heavy as though I carried chains. Each step toward my car felt like punishment.

When I started the engine, I didn’t think; I just drove, fast, too fast.

Her voice replayed in my head.

“You are no better than him.”

The drunkard’s face appeared in my mind, laughing, reeking of alcohol.

And then I saw myself standing over him, beating him without restraint.

“You like touching women without permission?” I growled at him.

But hadn’t I done the same?

I pressed harder on the accelerator, and a horn blared suddenly.

A figure appeared in front of my headlights.

“Shit!” I slammed the brakes.

The tires screeched violently against the road. The car jerked forward, stopping inches away from a terrified pedestrian.

The man stumbled backward, shouting, “Are you insane?!”

Maybe I was, I didn’t even respond as I just pulled away, heart pounding wildly.

When I reached the estate, I didn’t bother parking properly. I stepped out, slamming the door hard enough to shake the car.

Then I heard it, crying, high-pitched, distressed as maids running.

“Madam! Madam!” My heart dropped into my stomach.

Bella, I rushed back inside immediately.

Getting there, she was on the floor, holding her stomach, her face pale.

“Zachary…” she cried weakly immediately when she saw me.

For a second, everything else disappeared. Livia, the alley, and my guilt.

Nothing mattered but the baby. Yes, the baby that she's carrying.

“Move!” I barked at the maids, kneeling beside her. “Bella, look at me.” I muttered.

“It hurts…” she whimpered.

“Get the doctor. Now!” I thundered.

One of the maids scrambled away immediately.

I carried Bella into the bedroom carefully, panic clawing at my throat. She clung to my shirt.

“Is the baby okay?” she whispered.

“Don’t talk,” I said, though my own voice trembled slightly.

Minutes felt like hours until the doctor arrived.

He examined her while I stood near the window, fists clenched so tightly my knuckles turned white.

“Well?” I demanded when he finished.

“She’s fine,” the doctor said calmly. “Just stress. The baby is perfectly okay.” 

I exhaled, a heavy, suffocating weight lifted from my chest.

“The baby is fine?” I asked again, just to be sure.

“Yes, Mr. Zachary,” the doctor replied.

“Good,” I muttered.

Bella looked at me, confusion filling her eyes. 

“What’s going on? Why are you like this?”

I didn’t answer because how could I explain that my mind was somewhere else? That my heart felt split between guilt and something darker?

She sat up slowly. “Where did you go? You look mad, crazy even,” she asked.

“Drop it, Bella,” I muttered.

“No!” she snapped. “You storm in here looking like you killed someone! You don’t talk to me! You are distant! Where were you?” she demanded.

“Enough!” I shouted, the room fell silent as her eyes widened in shock.

“I’m your wife!” she yelled back. “I deserve to know…”

“I said enough!” I cut her short.

The anger in my voice shocked even me.

Bella’s face hardened. “Fine,” she whispered coldly.

She got off the bed and walked toward the door.

“You are becoming someone I don’t recognize, Zachary,” she said sadly and then she slammed the door behind her.

The sound echoed in the room like a gunshot.

I stood there breathing heavily. Why was I angry? At her? Or at myself?

My phone rang suddenly as I brought it out to look at who was calling me. It was Perry.

I answered immediately. “What?” 8 asked, anger still in my voice.

“You sound unstable,” Perry said calmly.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

There was a pause on the line. “You have a trail on you.” he muttered.

 

My heart skipped. “Explain,” I demanded.

“You were seen,” he said.

“Seen where?” I was still confused about his revelation.

“With Livia.” he finally blurted out.

Silence swallowed the room as my jaw tightened.

“Who saw?” I asked coldly.

“I don’t know yet,” Perry replied. “But someone followed you after the fight with that drunk man,” he revealed.

My pulse quickened.

“That’s not all,” Perry continued.

“Say it.” I ordered.

“There’s talk, questions and if this gets out, Bella will hear it. The press might too,” he said slowly.

I shut my eyes briefly.

“Clean it up,” I ordered.

“I will buy Zachary… what are you doing?” he asked calmly.

I didn’t respond immediately. What was I doing?

“I’m handling it,” I said finally.

“Are you?” Perry asked quietly as I ended the call without wasting more time on the call with him.

I know how my Beta can act sometimes, and I'm not in the mood for his drama.

The room felt suffocating as Livia’s voice returned.

“You are no better than him.”

I looked down at my hands, the same hands that protected her and the same hands that trapped her.

“I’m not him,” I muttered, but the doubt crept in like poison.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel in con

trol and that terrified me more than anything because when I lose control, someone always gets hurt.

“Who could have been trailing me?” I asked, thinking about the words of my Beta.