Chapter Nine
Stephanie's point of view
I didn't truly know who I had become entangled with; had I surrendered myself to the Devil of my own free will? A chill ran through my joints as I looked at his stony face. "You really are a demon," I said, my voice trembling. "How could you kill that old man without even blinking?"
He leaned his elbows on the table, piercing me with a gaze that made me want to shrink away. "My dear Stephanie," he said with lethal coldness, "killing, to me, is like breathing air."
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering violently against my chest. I tried to gather my courage. "Weren't you afraid the police would catch you? You know by now that my father reported you, and there were witnesses present."
At that moment, a loud, jarring laugh erupted from him a manic sound that echoed through the luxurious hall and made me jump. "The police, Stephanie? Really? Do I look like someone who fears the police?"
"When you find yourself in prison, you'll know how to laugh," I snapped, gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white.
He tilted his head slightly, his grey eyes gleaming with a terrifying spark. "Half the police force licks my boots, my beauty."
My eyes widened in shock, and the nausea returned. "You mean they know what you do and cover for you?" I whispered.
"My beauty is finally beginning to recognize my world," he replied with cold pride.
"I am not your beauty!" I screamed, the humiliation boiling in my blood.
He ignored my rage, leaning in closer. "What then? My little girl who begs me to fuck her?"
I couldn't bear to hear another word. I shoved the chair back violently and stood up, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. "You are the biggest prick I have ever known!" I shouted in his face.
I turned away quickly and stumbled toward my room.
Damn that despicable animal; he insulted me every chance he got! I entered the room and slammed the door shut, pacing like a madwoman, pulling at my red hair in sheer distress.
"It's my fault," I sobbed quietly. "I'm the one who let him do this to me!"
I collapsed onto the bed, panting, my mind spiraling into dark thoughts. I had to find a way out of here. I had hoped the police would arrest him so I'd be rid of him, but it was clear this bastard was entirely above the law.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of soft knocking. "Come in," I said groarily. The maid entered with her usual smile. "Good morning, Miss. Mr. Cedric is waiting for you at the breakfast table."
I got up reluctantly, my body feeling strangely heavy. I changed into a white skirt and a black blouse and headed downstairs. The villain was sitting at the head of the table with that infuriating aura of authority, like a crowned king. I sat down stiffly. Without looking up, he asked, "No 'Good morning'?"
"There is no good in seeing your face," I snapped.
Unfazed by the insult, he said coldly, "Eat your breakfast so we can go to the doctor."
"I'm not going," I protested. "I told you the baby is fine."
"It's my baby too," he said with a firmness that silenced me. "So we are going today."
I ate only a few bites to stave off hunger, then stood up. "I'm finished."
Like lightning, his hand shot out and gripped my wrist. "Finish your plate."
"I'm full," I said, trying to pull away.
"You are pregnant," he commanded. "You need proper nutrition."
I looked into his grey eyes skeptically. "Are you worried about me, or just your child?"
"Both of you," he answered stoically.
I was forced to sit back down and finish the meal under his watchful eye. We left the palace, where a massive black SUV was waiting.
He opened the door for me, then got behind the wheel and drove off. We passed the luxury villas of the island, and I felt a desperate urge to break the silence. "I want to call my friend. I need a phone."
I was surprised when he agreed simply. "Fine. I'll buy you one."
Emboldened, I asked, "How long am I going to stay here?"
"This isn't the time to talk about that," he replied, annoyed.
"When, then?" I snapped. "Do you expect me to just stay here and be silent?"
He turned to me for a moment, his voice tinged with bitterness. "What would you do, Stephanie, if I sent you back to your father's house? What would happen then?"
I didn't know how to answer; his words hit the bitter truth in my heart. But I pressed on. "And what will happen here, Cedric? Can I know that?"
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel so hard the car shook. "You are beginning to make my patience run thin!" he roared. "I don't like questions. Now shut up and let me have some peace."
"So, I'm ruining your peace?" I mocked.
"For heaven's sake, shut your mouth!" he yelled.
I turned toward the window and fell silent, a lump forming in my throat. Finally, we reached the small town and stopped at a building labeled "Dr. Samantha Sterling." He said curtly, "Get out."
We entered and were greeted by a secretary, a petite girl with green eyes and black hair who seemed kind. She ushered us in immediately.
The doctor was a woman in her mid-forties, slightly plump, with her hair in a neat bun and glasses that sharpened her dark eyes.
"Welcome, Mr. Volkov," the doctor said with a formal smile, then looked at me. "And you are Miss Stephanie Miller." I nodded, and we sat facing each other.
She began showering me with questions about chronic illnesses, morning sickness, and any bleeding. Then, gesturing to the medical exam bed, she said, "Let's take a look at the fetus."