Chapter 12
Stephanie's point of view
I turned away quickly, my blood boiling from the humiliation I had just endured. I climbed the stairs with faltering steps, entered my room, and slammed the door behind me as if trying to shut out those hideous images from my mind.
A burning ache gnawed at my chest, and I whispered to myself in disbelief, "Am I actually jealous of Cedric?"
I shook the thought from my head violently, gripping the edge of the bed as I muttered bitterly, "Who are you, Stephanie? What are you to him? His wife? His fiancée? His lover? You are nothing."
I remembered his cruel words from yesterday; to him, I was nothing but a girl who had pleaded with him to fuck her, a girl who had conceived by mistake on one ill-fated night.
I stripped off my clothes and put on my pajamas, then threw myself into bed, forcing my eyes to close. I told myself firmly, "Yes, he is nothing to me. The only thing binding us is the two children in my womb."
I finally succumbed to sleep. In the morning, as usual, the maid woke me for breakfast. I got up with an exhausted body, put on a long, loose white dress that felt comfortable over my stomach, and went downstairs with a practiced air of calm.
Cedric was sitting at the table alone, looking as if nothing had happened the night before. As soon as he saw me, he spoke in his deep, steady masculine voice: "Good morning."
I fixed my gaze on nothingness and replied coldly, "Good morning."
Yes, act natural, Stephanie, I thought. It was pure madness to get attached to a man nicknamed the Devil a man who saw you as nothing more than a vessel carrying his heirs.
I sat down quietly and began eating. "Did you sleep well last night?" he asked.
"Yes, I did," I said.
"Are you sure?"
I looked at him in surprise, my eyebrows arching instinctively. Why was he asking me? I had slept, despite how much his behavior had bothered me. "Is there a reason for this persistent questioning?" I asked.
"I'm just making sure my children have a healthy environment," he replied with his usual coldness.
"A healthy environment?"
"Yes. I don't want them to be disturbed inside your womb."
I didn't comment on his ridiculous statement. I finished my breakfast and stood up. "I bought you the phone," he said. He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to me. "I've programmed my number for you and saved yours in my phone."
I took it and said, "Fine." Then I added, "I'm going out to the garden for a bit. I need some fresh air."
"Shall I accompany you?"
"No need," I snapped.
I stepped outside. Guards were everywhere, making my chest feel even tighter. I headed toward the back of the house, which overlooked the beach. I walked down to the shore, took off my shoes, and carried them as I began walking barefoot across the sand, feeling the grains slip between my toes. The weather was so beautiful that I wanted to swim.
I wasn't wearing a swimsuit, but it didn't matter; no one was around. I slipped out of my dress, leaving only my underwear, placed the phone on the sand next to the dress, and waded into the water.
At first, the cold made me shiver, but bit by bit it became warmer. It felt magical. I thought of my father how was he now? What was he doing? Was he looking for me? Ever since my mother died, the love between us had withered until he became little more than a stranger to me.
My thoughts were interrupted by Cedric's voice shouting, "Stephanie, what are you doing? Get back here!"
He could see me swimming and yet he was asking what I was doing! I swam back to the shore, and as I emerged, he began staring at me strangely with his grey eyes, his black hair windswept by the light breeze.
"What's wrong?" I panted slightly. "Why did you call me?"
"You said you needed air, not water," he said stonily.
"Do I have to tell you everything I do?"
"Yes," he said in a firm tone. "You do."
I locked my gaze onto his eyes. "I understand that you are the father of my children, but you have no right to control me, Cedric. I don't control your life, so don't you do it to mine."
"It's different," he said sternly.
"What's different?" I challenged. "You're a man and I'm a woman."
He remained silent. I continued, "Being a man doesn't make you special. Your orders and your control won't work on me."
I picked up my dress and phone and started toward the house. He stopped me with his hand. "Do you intend to go inside like this?"
"What's the problem?"
He stepped toward me, took off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulders. I felt its weight and warmth envelop me. He buttoned it up tightly so that nothing showed and said, "This is better."
I walked to the house, went inside, and headed up to my room. I took off his jacket and went in to shower. Wrapping myself in a robe, I stepped out of the bathroom to see a man wearing a blue suit.
He was tall, with broad shoulders and black hair, looking out the window. I could only see his back.
I clutched the robe to myself with trembling hands and said, "Who are you?"
The man turned around. In that moment, the blood froze in my veins and I was struck with pure shock.
Those black eyes, those sharp features, that light beard... he was the man I could never forget, no matter how many years passed.
His eyes widened in astonishment, and his dark gaze wavered as he whispered, "Stephanie."
I swallowed hard, feeling a searing dryness in my throat.
I didn't know how to act, seeing him standing there before the unknown tomorrow seeing him with my own eyes after all these long years. What was he doing in this house?
I asked in a trembling voice, struggling against the frantic pounding of my heart, "Alexander... what are you doing here?"
He began to approach me with confident strides, and as he closed the distance between us, I felt my breath tighten.
"I can't believe it's you, Stephanie," he said in that unchanged, warm tone. "So many years have passed. You've changed; you've become so much more beautiful."
My heart shuddered violently at his proximity, at his words that touched old wounds, and at the way he looked at me that gaze that once owned me.
I tightened my grip on my robe until my knuckles turned white, trying to regain my composure. "What are you doing here, Alexander?"
He stopped directly in front of me, his eyes searching my features intently. "You... what are you doing here?"
He paused for a moment, as if a hideous thought had just crossed his mind. His expression shifted into one of pure shock. "Don't tell me... you're the girl pregnant with Cedric's child!"