Ch14 - Baby news

Marcus clenched his jaw. “It’s not just this month. We’ve been engaged for six months—half a damn year—and still no good news. Keep this up, and that bastard Julian’s gonna climb right over us. This isn’t just my problem, it’s yours too.”

Allison snapped, her anger boiling over. “HOW do you know it’s not your problem? I told you to get checked, and you keep putting it off!”

Marcus jabbed a finger at his chest. “ME? You think it’s me? Look at our family. My dad had me, Uncle Philip had two sons—you think it’s the Ashfords? Look at your side. You’re an only child.”

“SHUT the fuck up!” Allison’s face flushed crimson. “If you’re that desperate to breed, go knock someone else up. Have a whole damn football team—I won’t give a shit!”

Marcus gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “YOU think I wouldn’t? If it weren’t for our family rule about bastard kids not counting, I wouldn’t even need you.”

Her eyes went wide, disbelief twisting into fury. She was shaking, breath ragged. “I risked everyone sneering at me for getting knocked up before the wedding, and you dare say that to me? YOU ASSHOLE!”

She shoved at him, but he stepped aside easily.

Marcus sneered, voice cool. “DON’T forget how much your family’s already milked out of ours. You like to cry about what you give up, but don’t pretend you’re not cashing in.”

Allison sucked in a deep breath, trembling with rage. “Right. Let’s not forget why you wanted me in the first place—because marrying me gave you leverage. If you’re so goddamn unhappy, then fine. We DON’T need to get married.”

Marcus’s face hardened. “Oh, come on. We’ve played this game a dozen times. You know both of our family will never allow it.”

Her finger jabbed the air between them, her voice breaking with fury. “THIS time I’m not bluffing. I’m done. The wedding’s off. We’re finished.”

She stormed toward her car, rage radiating off her. A second later, her sports car screeched out of the driveway, tires screaming.

Marcus stood frozen, stunned, until the reality hit him. His fist slammed down on the hood of a nearby car. “F*ck!”

The pressure was crushing him. Shares slipping through his fingers, his expansion plans stalling, whispers in the boardroom that he wasn’t ready for CEO. Two years, they’d said. Two years of waiting. 

By then, Julian could have a kid already walking around—securing twenty percent of the company. And if that happened, everything Marcus had covered up could come spilling out. Would there even be a place for him left in Ashford Biotech?

His teeth ground together. “Damn that old man and his trust-fund conditions. Dead and still screwing with me.”

He yanked out his phone, dialing furiously. “Matt. That girl you mentioned—Julian’s girl. Any progress?”

His grip tightened around the phone. “One blurry photo isn’t worth shit. I need more. Something dirtier. Preferably in bed.”

The hesitation on the other end made his temple throb. His veins bulged as he barked, “You brought her in, didn’t you? So bribe her. Throw cash at her. Get her to take the shots. Don’t make me spell this out. Money is not the issue.”

He cut the line cold. “Two weeks. No excuses.”

On the other end, Matt stared at his phone in horror. “Shit… I’m screwed.”

One photo had seemed enough. He hadn’t even known who that waitress really was—how the hell was he supposed to buy her off? 

Now his only option was to dig up her info at the restaurant. When he found out she’d quit, his gut twisted. Maybe he could just shove another girl at Julian instead. With the way that guy went through women, sooner or later, something would stick.

He remembered there’d been a pretty girl that night—what was her name again? Right. Tiffany.

He dialed her up, starting with small talk about Julian and that waitress. “You know that girl? Lucky bitch walked away with a million-dollar watch…”

Tiffany gave a disdainful snort. “Her? Please. She’s notorious for throwing herself at men.”

“You know her?” Matt perked up, pressing. “What’s her name? Got her number?”

“And why do you want it?” Tiffany’s tone cooled. “Tell me what this is about first.”

“C’mon, sweetheart, I’m in a bind here. Just give it to me—I’ll make it worth your while after.” Matt was getting desperate.

Tiffany’s instincts flared. Matt and Julian were supposed to be buddies. If he needed her number but didn’t dare go to Julian directly, something shady was up.

She shifted her tone. “Actually… Violet and I go way back. We’re old classmates. So if you’ve got something to say, you can tell me. I’ll pass it along.”

Matt hesitated. The more people in on this, the bigger the risk. If Julian ever found out, the Ashfords would eat him alive. He thought fast. “Julian’s birthday’s coming up, right? We wanted to prank him—get some embarrassing shots, throw them up at the party. You know, just for laughs.”

Tiffany wasn’t buying it. Too much work for a couple of dumb party photos. “Then it doesn’t matter who takes them, right? Why not just send me?”

“That’s not the point. We’re talking about… bedroom shots.” The words slipped out before he could stop himself.

Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. “You mean nudes.”

“Exactly!” Matt forced a laugh to cover his nerves. “See? You get the joke.”

She gave a sly little hum. “And the payoff?”

“You’ll get your cut. Ten grand a picture.” Matt grit his teeth. “But don’t waste my time with boring stuff. I want it spicy.”

Tiffany’s silvery laugh crackled through the line. “Relax. I won’t disappoint you. You give me Julian’s schedule, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

She hung up smiling to herself. It wasn’t only about the cash. If Violet could score a watch worth seven figures, Tiffany had her eyes on something bigger: the man himself. Getting close to Julian was the real prize.

———

After Marcus stormed out, Allison right on his heels, Uncle Richard’s face darkened. Aunt Nora jumped in quickly, smoothing things over. “Let’s forget them. Come on, let’s sit and talk.”

The family drifted from the dining hall into the lounge. The view here was nothing like Violet’s city apartment—this villa sat high against the mountain, opening onto an infinity pool that seemed to spill into the horizon.

The sliding glass doors stood half-open, letting in the rustle of autumn leaves.

The sofas formed a loose semicircle. With so few people—just Julian and Violet, Richard and Nora, and Serena—they sat spaced apart. Julian stayed close to Violet, shoulder to shoulder.

Richard rolled a cigar between his fingers and looked at his nephew. “So, kid, how’s work treating you?”

He didn’t often make time for Julian. Busy with the company, he barely knew the boy outside of his reputation for booze and women. The sudden marriage, too—maybe it was about the trust shares, maybe not. Richard didn’t care. Whoever ended up with the stock, all he wanted was for the company to stay strong.

Deep down, though, he wouldn’t have minded if Julian proved himself capable. Maybe then Marcus would finally have some competition instead of coasting along like the heir apparent.

Julian swirled his whiskey, posture lazy, voice smooth. “Pretty good. No complaints.”

“Glad to hear it. If you get stuck, come to me,” Richard said with a warm smile, though inside he was shaking his head.

Nora lifted her glass of red, eyeing the young couple who’d barely left each other’s side all evening. “You two sure rushed into marriage. Maybe next month you’ll be rushing back here with baby news too?”