Page 100 of Velvet Chains
VICTOR’S STARING at me, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. I can almost see his brain going into overdrive, trying to process what Eli just blurted out.
I shift in my seat, my palms sweating. The fancy place settings and crisp white tablecloth suddenly feel like a cruel joke, a mockery of the bomb that just dropped.
“Start talking. Now.” Victor’s voice is low, dangerous. His eyes lock with mine, demanding answers I’m not sure I have.
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “I… I was going to tell you. I just found out myself, and I didn’t know how…”
He leans forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “How long?”
I blink, taken aback. “What?”
“How long have you known?” he grits out, his jaw clenched.
I flinch at his tone, my stomach twisting. “Yesterday. I took a test… well, three tests, actually. Just to be sure.”
Victor sinks into a chair, running a hand over his face. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the span of a minute.
“Fuck, Laura. This… this complicates things.”
I can’t help it. A harsh laugh escapes my lips, edged with hysteria. “Complicates things? Yeah, you could say that.”
He shoots me a look, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t funny.”
“No, it’s fucking hilarious,” I snap, my temper flaring. “I mean, this wasn’t the lunch surprise you were expecting, was it? ‘Surprise, honey, I’m knocked up with your baby! Pass the caviar, would you?’”
Victor’s nostrils flare, his fist clenching on the table. For a second, I think he might actually flip it.
He stares at me for a moment. “Is it mine?”
What the fuck…?
The question hits me like a slap in the face. I feel my cheeks flush with anger, my hands curling into fists.
“Excuse me?” I hiss, my voice low and trembling. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”
Victor’s jaw clenches, his eyes hard. “A valid one. We’ve only been married for a short time, Laura. And it’s not like this was a traditional arrangement.”
I see red. Before I can stop myself, I’m on my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“How dare you,” I spit, my whole body shaking. “How fucking dare you imply that I would… that I could…”
I can’t even finish the sentence. The thought is too vile, too hurtful.
Victor stands, too, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Laura, I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did,” I snap, cutting him off. “You meant exactly what you said. You think I’m, what? Sleeping around? Trying to trap you with a baby that might not even be yours?”
Victor looks at me, but there’s no remorse in his eyes, no attempt to soften the blow. “Can you blame me for asking?”
Bastard.
I’m shaking now, tears burning in my eyes. “You bastard,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “You fucking bastard.”
Victor just stares at me, his face carved from stone. “Better a bastard than a fool, Laura. I won’t be played. Not by you, not by anyone.” His face momentarily softens after his words land, and he takes a sharp breath, pausing as if he wishes he could rewind the moment.
But it’s too fucking late; something inside me snaps, the last fragile thread of my composure.
He has the decency to look ashamed, but it’s too little, too late. The damage is done.
