Page 94 of Stolen Sun

My throat tightens at the realization that he expects me to leave Declan. Am I supposed to want that? Months ago I would have.

He must not realize all that I know about what he did before he died. What has he been doing since that accident? Whatever it is, I’m not taking this man back. He can be with his pregnant whore, not me.

“You’re mine,”Declan’s voice anchors me in my confusion. I just need to figure out how to get away, so I can get back to him.

“Where have you been?” I ask, deciding to avoid the harder topics for now. I need answers and strength before starting a fight.

“Here. I needed to reinvent myself and establish a new firm before I came back for you. I had to wait for a couple of things togrow,”he says and smiles.

Chills cover my body at the way he says the last word.

“What things?” I ask, taking the bait.

“Noel, has your father ever explained the way the Williams estate works to you?”

“A lawyer did.”

“Good. And you know how I feel about kids, anyway. You might be a little upset by this, but I need to explain some things.

Our story began when you and I were fifteen. My father needed a loan. Your father agreed to give him the money instead, in exchange for me.

I have to admit. I was furious when my dad told me he arranged my marriage. It took me a solid year to believe he had actually done it, despite seeing the documents.

Once I came to terms with it, I looked you up. You were obviously beautiful in every picture I could find on social media, but you also looked so innocent. When I asked my dad for your number, I found out you didn’t know about me yet.

That’s when I decided to move here. I wanted to meet you. I wanted our relationship to be real. And, Noel, I did truly fall in love with you. Arranged or not, I wanted to marry you.

Now, the baby part was the tricky part since I didn’t want you to know about the arrangement or the inheritance clause. We were running out of time, so I messed with your birth control pills. I paid off the pharmacist to give you packs of placebos that looked real.” He waits for the information to settle in, watching me for a reaction.

My face heats up. Even though I knew, hearing him recount his side of our story makes him feel more like Nate again. I can’t help myself. This is my opportunity to get answers.

“You promised we’d travel before having children. Why would you do that?” I question.

He walks over to me and runs his fingers down my jawline and touches my bottom lip with his thumb.

“People travel with children all the time, and we had the means to do it. I thought a happy accident would be what we needed to appease your father. ”

Electricity shoots through me at his touch. I’m so relieved to see him alive but so heartbroken by the choices he’s made. I’ve never felt more confused and conflicted.

“We had until I was thirty. Why would you intervene? Why not just tell me you wanted kids sooner?” I stay the course, needing all the answers.

“Your father didn’t want to wait that long. My car crash was real, Noel. He threatened to kill me if you didn’t get pregnant soon. Then, he found out I had already been trying and,” he pauses, “failing.”

“There are doctors that help with these things. All of this would’ve been so simple if you had trustedme!” I shout.

Damn his prideful immaturity. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve already had time to process most of this. Now that my mind is accepting he’s perfectly alive in front of me, my anger is raging.

“I did my own tests, Noel. It wasn’t easy, but I did find us a surrogate,” he says slowly.

“A what?!” I scream.

“I need you to be calm and listen, baby. For whatever reason, you weren’t able to conceive. But the inheritance clause doesn’t allow for something like that. It does allow for other loopholes though. No genetic testing is required, only a birth certificate. So, when the baby is born, we will go back to Birmingham to claim the inheritance and confront your father,” he says, speaking slowly as if to a child.

“That whore is not a surrogate, and that baby isn’t fucking mine!” I spit out.

“Noel Elise Williams, we do not speak to each other this way,” he yells back at me.

Taking a steady breath, I say, “That’s not my name.”

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