CHAPTER 4: THE PRICE OF SILENCE

VINICIO POV

“Are you alright?” I finally broke the tension immediately we got to the car. I knew how to handle boardrooms and blood-feuds, and a part of me wanted to simply crush whatever was eating her up so I could have my wife back to her normal self.

“Yes-”

“No. You’re not coming out of this car until you tell me what is wrong with you.” I turned to face her, expecting a sharp retort, a fiery comeback, but it never came.

“I’m fine. I’ll go wherever you ask me... do whatever you say...” She looked at the floorboards, her voice trembling. “Please... just don't hurt me.” 

She sobbed then, a sudden, unexpected cry. I reached out to console her, my hand cupping her face to force her to look at me, but the moment my skin touched hers, I felt the heat. She was burning. 

“Are you pregnant?” I asked, the words came out thoughtlessly. It wasn't in our contract, but I wouldn't have blamed her if she was. Then I saw the bruise properly, a dark, ugly stain on her lip that my fingers had just grazed.

“I... I lost it,” she whispered, her eyes vacant and glassy. “These men... they broke in. They started asking about your money. They hit me when I said I didn't know... they threatened to rape me...” 

The world was stationary. I could clearly hear the engines of other cars that sped past us. She started sobbing uncontrollably.

“TURN THE FUCKING CAR AROUND!” I roared at the driver, slamming my fist against the partition. “MOVE STRAIGHT TO THE PENTHOUSE. NOW!”

I called my private physician before we even cleared the gates, my mind spinning with the ‘hows’ and ‘whys’. How did they get past the gates? How did everything look so normal when I arrived? Why didn’t I just come back to her earlier?

The doctor didn’t need to confirmed the miscarriage; a young girl could never joke with something like that, given that she was obviously too naïve to call me and thought I would scold her. When I returned to the bedroom, she was a small, broken shape under the sheets, just like before.

As I lay beside her, she reached out, her hands anxious, as she tried to kiss my throat and my neck. Her fingers fumbled for me, desperate to grab hold of my cock again. But I wasn't in the mood to break her anymore. I knew she wanted to pretend nothing had happened, to fuck the trauma away, but I couldn't suppress the thought of her fever, or the brutal reality of the assault. I couldn’t ignore that just for sex.

"Sleep, Laurabeth."

She stared at me, a flicker of anger crossing her tired features. I didn't want to hurt her anymore, and I knew exactly what I had to do to ensure that.

“Laurabeth... I made a mistake by impregnating you and being incapable of protecting you. We don't need to have a repeat of that.”

“B-but this is what I want,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

I looked at her swollen cheek and those bruised lips. A strange, sharp pain filled my chest.

“From tomorrow, you’ll leave for the guesthouse, the one I bought, top security until the divorce, and I’d suggest you leave the country after. That’s what you need.” I pulled her close, burying her head against my chest so I wouldn't have to see her cry. I told myself it was for her health, for her safety, but deep down, I knew this "leave" might be forever. I couldn't be the man who let her break again. 

LAURABETH POV

The door slammed so hard that it made my heart hammer against my chest, I jerked out of bed. Staring in disbelief at the men standing in my bedroom. I had followed every direction my mother gave me; I searched every room, drawer and safe I could access as a wife, but I couldn't find ‘it.’ Whatever key my mother wanted wasn’t here.

From the little I knew of Vinicio, a man like him wouldn't hide his valuables in an unguarded family estate where anyone could get in. He may have a safer haven. That explained why he hadn't returned in two weeks; but still doesn’t explain why I craved him. 

I touched my stomach, still flat and unnoticed, my mother was shocked when I announced I was pregnant, through the phone. She had insisted I get into his bed multiple times to heighten the chances. Turns out, I didn't need a repeat performance. One night was all it took for Vinicio to impregnate me, just one long night of several rounds and positions.

I had tried to back out the moment I saw the double lines on the test. I didn't want to play the spy anymore. But the men were already here. My mother had promised a fake assault; all I had to do was play along, so it would look real to Vinicio, and he would never suspect me. I told myself I could handle a few bruises if it kept my baby safe; if it ensured a future of luxury for it. 

“Where is it?” the leader snapped as I scrambled out of bed.

“I don’t know! I checked everywhere!” seeing he was armed, I leapt toward the bathroom, but a second man stepped out from behind the heavy curtains. It seemed he had been there the whole time, watching me sleep. He caught my wrist, pinning me against the wall. His hand squeezed my breast with a bruising force that made me gasp. 

“We will kill you right here if you don’t tell us,” He hissed.

“I told my mother... she knows I don’t-” A slap cracked across my jaw, cutting off my breath. Then another. The world spun as I was tossed to the floor.

“We don’t take orders from your mother,” the man growled. He stepped forward and kicked me squarely in the stomach. A white-hot flare of agony exploded in my gut, and then the darkness swallowed me whole. 

I woke to the weight of a hot towel on my forehead. My vision blurred as it settled on a familiar face: Teresa. My sister-in-law. She was the only relative of Vinicio present at the wedding. And he said I could trust her, from the way she didn’t feel surprise that I was awake, I knew she could keep a secret, and Vinicio wasn’t around.

“No, rest, Laura. You’re in pain,” she muttered, her hand firm as she pressed me back into the pillows.

“Please,” I managed to choke out through my swollen lip. “Can I be the one to tell him?” 

 She gave a small smile, respecting my decision with a nod, her expression was later unreadable. I let my eyes close, falling back into the black. 

The next time I woke, the room was total darkness. A tray of food sat untouched on the nightstand, the cold smell of it made my stomach churn. My mind was focused on only one thing: my baby. I could feel a headache kicking in, and the soft noise from the living room made it clear the maids were still awake. I waited until the house was finally silent before sneaking into the bathroom, desperate to avoid being caught. 

I noticed I was wearing a large pad, and when I removed it, the amount of blood present said it all. The baby was either gone or badly hurt. My chest tightened, a physical weight pressing down on my lungs. The hatred for my mother and her minions burned in my chest until my eyes was fuzzy with tears, eventually leaving me sobbing on the cold tile.

I wondered who there were working for, because clearly, they were after my baby, I wonder who my mother had told and if Vinicio knew already.

Days passed in a blend of medication and silence. Then, I finally heard his voice. Vinicio was back. My next move was spontaneous; a desperate need to be with him, alone finally. That was why I let him take me to the penthouse after telling him my version of the truth about the attack. I wondered what he thought of it and if he would eventually know my mother had a hand in it.

After the physician arrived and broke the news that the baby was still in good condition, I was discombobulated. Yet, I made the doctor promise to let me tell my husband myself. I didn’t know who to trust anymore. Vinicio’s long disappearance was suspicious; what if I told him about the pregnancy, and he told someone else and they tried to hurt me again? Or worse, what if he refused to satisfy my needs as his wife; not just in bed, but his presence, his touch? Perhaps he would rather I just focused on the baby. He would rather see me as a fragile little girl than a woman. 

So, I hoped he would touch me again. I tried seducing him, pouring all my fear and longing into my touch, but my desperation only seemed to disgust him. It made my heart shrink, he clearly doesn’t care about me, talk more of my baby, because if he did, he would give me want I wanted.

Instead, He sent me to the guesthouse. For a moment, as I watched the penthouse door close between us, I felt a wave of relief. I was away from him and my family, away from his piercing eyes and my mother’s endless questions. But as I stepped into the small, lonely rooms of the guesthouse, a strange but familiar sharp pain flared in my abdomen. 

I gasped, clutching my stomach. My baby. This time, I realized an unforgettable truth, that no one shall ever know of its existence.