Mag-log inValentineClarissa’s hand felt so small in mine, cold and completely limp, her fingers barely curling around my thumb. I stared down at her pale face, taking in the faint dark circles under her eyes and the hollow look around her cheekbones. She looked so fragile resting against those big white pillows, completely drained by everything that had gone down over the last few hours.I tightened my grip on her cold fingers, feeling the faint, rapid flutter of her pulse against my palm. I swore right then that no more chaos was going to reach this room. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever again.I leaned down a little closer so I didn't have to raise my voice, keeping my tone low, quiet, and steady."I increased security around this whole floor," I told her, brushing my thumb over the back of her knuckles. "I got guards posted right at the top of the main stairs. Nobody is stepping near your bedroom door. Not Brittany, not her mother, nobody."Her eyelids fluttered, her dark eyes opening just
ClarissaMy thumbs tapped against the cool glass screen, typing out a fast message before my brain could overthink it.*The gate is a total mess with reporters, but security will let you up. I really need a friend right now.*I pressed send and dropped the phone onto the blanket right next to my thigh. My lower stomach gave another dull, heavy ache, reminding me to keep my back flat against the pillows. I stared up at the ceiling, counting the faint hairline cracks in the white plaster while waiting for the sound of footsteps outside in the hallway.A light tap sounded against the wood, and the door swung open slowly. Layla slipped inside, holding a large paper bag in one hand and her heavy shoulder bag in the other. She pushed the door shut with her elbow, letting out a long breath as her shoulders dropped."The front gate is actual insanity," she said, setting the paper bag down on the nightstand next to my untouched breakfast tray. "There are like ten news vans parked across the st
Clarissa The door slammed shut. The wood vibrated hard in its frame, sending a dull hum through the walls before the entire bedroom dropped into dead silence.I sat glued to the mattress, my chest heaving, the faint sound of Brittany’s designer heels clicking fast and fading down the hallway outside.I tried to shift, to push myself up further against the headboard, but the movement pulled something deep in my gut. A sharp, hot throb shot straight across my lower stomach. It didn’t just ache. It squeezed, tight and cruel, hard enough to knock every bit of air right out of my lungs.My hands flew to my belly. Sweat broke out across my forehead, cold and slick. My vision blurred around the edges, the white walls of the bedroom tilting sideways for a second. I let out a ragged breath and sank straight back onto the pillows, my spine collapsing into the soft bedding.Don't move. Just don't move at all.I shut my eyes tight, focusing entirely on the slow, heavy rhythm of my breathing. In
ClarissaThe door latch clicked open.Brittany stepped into the room, stopping two paces inside the carpeted floor. Her arms crossed tight across her chest, her pink fingernails digging into the knit sleeves of her oversized sweater. A sharp, cruel grin stretched across her mouth, her teeth flashing under the yellow ceiling lights."How does it feel?" she asked, her voice dropping into a nasty sneer that echoed off the high walls. "How does it feel to sneak into another woman's husband's bed?"The dull throb in my lower stomach pulsed against my ribs, keeping me pinned flat against the pillows. My jaw stayed locked tight, my molars grinding together until my cheeks hurt."You thought you were so smart," Brittany said, taking another slow, deliberate step closer to the bed frame. Her white sneakers sank into the thick pile of the rug. "You wanted to get back at Drake for kicking you out. You thought marrying my dad would punish me and Drake for leaving you with nothing. You thought you
ClarissaThe door clicked shut, cutting off Dr. Evans' quiet instructions as his footsteps faded down the hall. White plaster seams stretched across the ceiling, meeting in the far corner where a small crack spiderwebbed toward the lamp. The ceiling fan turned in slow, silent sweeps, cutting through the heavy air in the room.My lower stomach throbbed in dull, rhythmic pulses, the heat radiating deep into my hips. I kept my palms pressed flat against the mattress, my fingers digging into the cotton sheets to anchor myself against the lingering haze of the pain meds.A shoe leather scuff sounded right beside the mattress.Valentine dropped onto the edge of the wood frame, the mattress dipping sharply under his weight. His jacket was gone, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows in rough folds, revealing the red friction marks on his forearms from where he’d hauled me off the floor earlier. His chest heaved in shallow, ragged gaps, his broad shoulders hunched forward like he was
ValentineClarissa’s body went limp in my grip, her head snapping back as the color drained right out of her face. Her hands clamped over her stomach, her breath coming out in a sharp, ragged gasp that cut off halfway through. The remote clattered onto the rug. My chest caved in, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped animal.I scooped my arm under her knees and lifted her back onto the mattress, my hands shaking so bad I could barely hold her steady. Her skin felt like ice, cold sweat slicking her forehead as she curled sideways, her teeth digging straight into her bottom lip until a faint red mark bloomed against the pale skin.I whipped out my phone, my thumb jamming the screen until Dr. Evans’s line connected on the second ring."Get here right now," I roared into the mic, my voice cracking down the middle. "It's Clarissa. Something's wrong with the baby, she collapsed.""Mr. Gaston, calm down—" Evans started."I don't give a shit!" I screamed, cutting him off as I bolte







