Five

Chapter 5

KIARA’S POV

The truth came with its force, knocking the air out of my lungs as I fumbled for breath. My eyes widened; horror crept into my face as I watched.

My supposed one-night stand was Silva freaking Blackwood!

"No... no... no. There must be a mistake, a glitch or something, 'cuz he can't be the same man. No... no!!" I banged my hands against the steering wheel. Self-loathing curled up in my gut; my stomach twisted, ready to throw out my breakfast.

My gaze dragged back to the still-playing video. I watched myself: sluggish, madly, and drunkenly stalking him, sneaking into his room.

That did the trick. My breakfast came skyrocketing through my throat, and I clamped my mouth shut, bolting out of the car and finding the nearest flower pot as I emptied my stomach.

This was more than hate, it was first-class world disgust.

Of all the men in the world, heck! I would have been happier with a plumber than an egotistic bastard like him.

Of course! Of freaking course! My life has to be twisted. Of course, things had to go wrong in my case.

I stood up and made my way back to the club bathroom, washing myself up.

I didn't believe in luck, but my case is nothing short of one filled with bad luck.

I slipped back to my car, gearing the engine, with one thought, one aim in my mind: to slam my fist so hard into Silva's freaking face that his jaw would tilt.

SILVA’S POV

Three good things occurred that I should be thankful for. Sadly, all included two selfish people. Five weeks had passed after the marriage saga. Grandfather wasn't on my throat again, screaming that I may have offended a spoiled brat with the manners of a wild horse. He was more focused on getting rid of the doctors and the procedure to recover his lungs.

And most importantly, a certain snobbish ice queen had obscured my memories. Slowly, she was fading away: her touch, her scent, everything about her that had etched into my mind was fading, leaving nothing but a shadow of her presence.

Finally!

I spun the chair around. My gaze met the black shelves opposite my table, a good seven feet apart. My office wasn't as extravagant as some would. It was simple, spacious, and had the right amount of colors not to freak me out. It was a white and black decor. White tile ran through the glass door, covering the office, matching the white textured paint. A black shelf hung on the wall right below the black chair and table.

I leaned back in my chair, my finger drumming against the glass table, which reflected the lights above.

A thought swirled into my mind as I dragged my focus to the screen of my laptop. I had two hours left before the meeting with Sivena. I do hope it would be worth it for their sake.

Just then, the door swung open with a force that could have potentially knocked it off the wall and onto the floor.

I didn't look up. I didn't need to. There was only one person who loved and had the guts to storm into my office.

Grandfather.

I thought before the sweet yet maddening scent of lily, dipped in something regal, filled the air.

Kiara??

I snapped my gaze up, and there she was, in my office, dressed like a fucking queen.

Was I dreaming? If it were a dream, then Kiara wouldn't be standing here; such a dangerous being belonged in nightmares.

I stared, taking in every detail of her breathtaking beauty.

Her long blonde hair was packed into a bun, with a free curled strand bouncing freely at the side. Her blue gaze pinned me down, sharp and enraged, her little nose flared up as she kept twitching her lips. My eyes narrowed down to what she wore. A velvet red dress did nothing to cover her long legs. The dress was barely knee-length, made of a suit material, with a long collar that ran down her shoulder, revealing a little of her cleavage. My gaze dropped to the bow nested on her stomach.

She looked like an angel, a cute harmless one.

"You freaking bastard!" She screamed, eroding any thoughts of calmness I had entertained.

My eyebrow shot up as I leaned back in my chair, staring at her.

"A good morning to you too."

She scoffed. "Keep your greetings to your freaking self, you mannerless..."

"You are the one who barged into my office, and yet you call me mannerless..."

"You barged into my life without my freaking permission and turned it upside down! How dare you?"

Apparently, she is not only egotistic but also needs mental therapy.

"Are you here to cry about the marriage?" I tsked.

I knew it; she was just trying to gain attention. She wanted to be begged and pampered like a queen.

"You deluded yourself." She took a step forward, leaving a good five feet and a table to separate us. "But you are right, I am here to cry about something."

"What? The economy? The president? Politics? The sun rising? Girls like you will pick anything to scream about."

"Girls like me?" She dug her hand into her hair, messing up the perfect bun. "Self-absorbed CEO indeed." I heard and I ignored. She was doing a good job at describing herself. "You know nothing about me, Silva." She paused. "Or rather... my little one-night stand." My shoulder stiffened beneath the suit I wore. For a second, the night flashed in my eyes: her gaze, her lips on mine, the lustful look in her eyes as I gazed into hers.

Fuck! I shook the image off.

My eyebrow shot up.

After five weeks and four days, she comes back to whine about this.

"What do you...?"

"I am pregnant." She yelled, and for a second, the world vanished; my head shot up in shock. "I am freaking pregnant!!!!"

If my shoulder stiffened before, then my muscle must have contracted, my blood flow slowed, and I could hear my heart skip a dangerously large number of beats.

"What?!" I said so low I thought she didn't hear.

"I said I am freaking fucking pregnant."

"How? When? Who?!!" I was tempted to ask all those questions, but I did know the answers.

She was pregnant with my child. I was her first; the bloodstains on the sheet that morning proved my theory. Plus, she didn't look like one who would fuck the whole nation.

"I swear to anything holy, if you dare ask me who the father is, I will break that vase over there on your empty skull." She snarled.

"Of course, the child is mine," I interjected.

"Glad you accept that fact. Now..." She took a seat.

"For someone who disappears after a one-night stand, I thought you'd be smart enough to take the pill."

"Wow! So typical of you to put the blame on me, you freaking pig!"

Anger surged through my veins at her words.

"Pig? You didn't think the same that night. Screaming for more." It was either that I was daydreaming or her cheeks just turned pink.

"Yeah! Because I didn't know the face above the d*ck." Definitely daydreaming. "I would have starved to death than allow you to touch me if I knew it was you!!"

"And I would have chopped off my d*ck if I knew it was you."

"It's not too late. I could buy you a castration knife." She spat.

"I wouldn't want you to bleed out in sorrows."

"Why will I cry for something that ruined my life?" She roughed her hair angrily.

"If you are done with your overdramatic words, can we talk properly?"

"Overdramatic??" She hissed, then muttered something which I heard as clear as daylight. "I wish I had known it was you."

"But you did know. Isn't that why you left a very sweet thank you card?" I leaned in, staring into those ocean blue eyes. "Deep down I know you are happy, finally you've gotten a hold on...." My words were cut short as she grabbed the cup of water and flung its content at my face. I snapped, springing to my feet.

"Now that your eyes have been clean, take a fucking look at me. Do I look freaking happy???"

"You..."

"You numb-brain! Unlike you, I had no idea that my supposed one-night stand would be an egotistic, selfish, and moronic bastard like you."

"Excuse you..."

"I would flush out my whole womb if it meant I would have stopped this situation from ever rising! Unlike you, you fucking knew who I was!"

I unclenched my fist. "I found out the next morning."

"Well, I found out this morning." She sighed, breathing heavily while rubbing her temple furiously.

"Take a seat and calm down." I extended my handkerchief to her.

"Huh?"

"Stress isn't good for the baby." She paused, probably recalling the fact that she was pregnant. She snatched the handkerchief, wiping the sweat off her face as she sat.

"Finally, something you said that made sense." I ignored her remark. "Now, what do we do, and don't you dare throw money at my face, I will..."

"I won't." No matter how much I wanted to drag her out of my office, I couldn't help it when she was pregnant, especially with my child. "We will solve this, and yes, you are keeping the child," I said, knowing full well she would accuse me of opting for an abortion.

What's the plan? I had only one. I couldn't let this lunatic raise my child. I wouldn't want my child to behave like her.

Never!

"I have a solution. One which would ensure my child's protection."

"Our child," I corrected. "What's that?"

She took a deep breath. "A contract marriage."