Chapter 7

Marceline paused in the doorway of the bedroom, one hand resting lightly on the frame.

Adrian was now standing next to her with nothing but a dark towel around his waist.

Water still clung to his shoulders and traced slow paths down the inked lines of his chest.

“Don’t forget the Romano project report,” she said, her voice calm and even. “It’s due tomorrow morning. The projections on page fourteen are still off by almost two percent. You’ll need to correct them before the meeting.”

Adrian froze. His fingers tightened on the edge of the towel.

He had expected tears, accusations, or at least a sharp question about the woman currently waiting in his home office. Instead she spoke about contracts and numbers as if they were the only things that existed between them.

“That’s really all you have to say to me right now?” he asked, staring at her. “I’m standing here in a towel. Victoria is in my office. And you’re reminding me about a report?”

Marceline adjusted the soft cardigan she wore over her nightgown and met his eyes without flinching. “What did you want me to say? Should I ask who you’re planning to fuck tonight? I’m not your babysitter, Adrian. You’re a grown man. If you can’t keep your cock to yourself, that’s your problem.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You’re not even going to pretend it bothers you?”

“Why should I?” She slipped her feet into the worn bunny slippers waiting by the door. “I’ve heard the same sounds coming from that office for years. Different women, same locked door. It stopped surprising me a long time ago.”

She started to walk past him. The hallway felt cooler than the bedroom, and she needed the air. She needed space to think about the life waiting for her after these walls no longer held her.

Adrian’s hand closed around her wrist before she could take a second step. His grip was firm, not painful, but it stopped her cold.

“Why aren’t you jealous?” he asked, voice low and rough. “Most women would be throwing things by now. You’re acting strange. I know what this is. You’re trying to get my attention.”

Marceline turned her head just enough to look at him. A tired scoff left her lips.

“Attention?” she repeated. “From you? I don’t need it. I stopped needing it the night you told your colleagues you were only drunk when you touched me. Remember that conversation? I do.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re twisting things.”

“I’m repeating what you said out loud in your own sitting room.” She pulled her wrist free with a fast tug. “I have work to do. Reports of my own. Plans that don’t involve standing in a hallway arguing with a man who already made his choices clear.”

She continued down the corridor. Behind her there was only silence for several long seconds. No sharp reply or footsteps... it was only when she reached the turn that led toward the balcony did she let out the quiet breath she had been holding.

She had let other people predict and control her life for way too long. She was done letting Adrian control her feelings further.

She had her phone was already in her hand. She needed fresh air and a quiet place to study. After the babies came she would have to lose the weight pregnancy had put on her body. The academy in Paris would not wait forever, and she refused to arrive looking like a woman who had given up on herself.

Then suddenly.....Soft footsteps sounded behind her.

Before she could turn fully, Adrian’s hand settled on her shoulder and guided her back against the wall with careful strength.

The hallway light cast half his face in shadow. He stared at her for a long moment, green eyes moving over her features as if searching for something he had missed.

Then his gaze dropped to the rounded curve of her stomach....Slowly, almost carefully, he lifted his hand and placed it over the soft fabric of her nightgown.

The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin material. He felt a kick answer him almost immediately...it was strong and filled with excitement...as if the baby had been waiting for exactly that touch.

Adrian’s eyes widened a fraction. Then he let out a short, surprised chuckle...It was quiet and unguarded. Surely, the ruthless Don never expected such a tender moment in his life.

“It moved,” he said, almost to himself. “I felt it.”

For a brief second something unfamiliar crossed his expression...something softer than the cold distance he usually wore.

Marceline felt it too but she did not dare show her emotions at the moment. She felt the strange intimacy of the moment. Even as she swallowed hard, staring at the man the city feared melting over a swollen belly.

It was the first time he had ever touched the life growing inside her. Her throat tightened.

Then the memory of locked office doors and the sounds that always came from behind them rose. It hit her like a bucket of cold water. She smacked his hand away with enough force to sting her own palm.

“Don’t,” she said, voice steady and cold. “Don’t touch this belly with the same hands you use to fuck other women.”

Adrian’s hand remained in the air for a second longer before he lowered it. Shock flickered across his face....before the usual mask slid back into place.

“Marceline....”

“No.” She stepped sideways, putting clear space between them. “You don’t get to touch what you spent years ignoring and then act surprised when I refuse. You don’t get to feel something for five seconds and expect me to forget everything else.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. No easy reply came.

Marceline turned and pushed open the balcony doors. Cool night air wrapped around her at once.

She rested both hands on the stone railing and looked out over the dark grounds of the estate, phone still clutched tightly in one hand. Behind her, Adrian remained frozen in the hallway. The restless interest that had sent him toward Victoria only minutes earlier had drained away completely.

He stood there longer than he meant to, the ghost of that single kick still lingering against his palm, before he finally turned and walked straight to Marceline.

“You can't just walk away from me...I am your husband!" He growled, his ego flaring in his chest.

“Oh so now you remember you are a married man?“