by Pamela Ann
His frown deepened before mumbling something I couldn’t catch. He lifted a finger in the air, wagging it as if to tell me to wait before he went behind the curtained door, only to emerge with a baby milk bottle.
Poor guy.
Poor me.
My energy deflated even more.
“No, no.” I vehemently shook my head, mightily trying to block the frustration slowly creeping into my resolve, imploring the confused frowning old man before me. “No beba!”
Pulling my phone out, I figured my AI would be able to help me translate, but to no avail. My roaming was down.
Shit kabobs. What now?
I pointed my finger towards the door where he recently emerged, feeling hopeful. “May I go in there?” I took a few steps, and I heard him shuffle behind me. “Can I go in there, please?” I tried to do the best animated hand gestures possible before I saw him nod, seemingly understanding what I was trying to convey.
Relieved, I took a few steps and entered the storage room. The back was lined with shelves, and my eyes roamed one after the other until I found what I needed—or the closest to the pregnancy test I’d seen back home. I took three altogether. One for each brand.
The man only grinned, showcasing his toothless state before giving me a thumbs up.
I couldn’t help it; I let out a riotous laugh because my life was far from great. Based on the chain of bullshit knocking me down, my chances of not being pregnant were nil.
Since I didn’t have any Kuna, I handed him five one hundred dollar bills, mostly thanking him for trusting me enough to let me inside his storage room so I could hunt down these bastards.
“Hvala ti.” Thank you.
I shoved my items into the purse. Where the hell was Jack, anyway? I thought as I strode back to where the speedboat was stationed, waiting for anyone ready to head back to the yacht.
Vivienne and Ethan were still out and about, and Blair was at the spa. But I wanted to go into my room and was ready to get on with it.
I carefully undressed and only pulled my Japanese soft blue silk robe with cherry blossoms on it before entering the bathroom. Quite unready for doomsday.
Ten minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed.
All three.
Pregnant, it said in small bold letters.
“No. No. No.” I chanted agitatedly as my hand shook while gripping the slender stick. “There’s got to be a mistake,” I whispered unsteadily as my tears welled around my eyes, my sight glassing over at the daunting word that changed my life forever. “I can’t be…” Then a thought came to me. Maybe I need better lighting…Maybe something was broken. I desperately reasoned as I rashly strode over to the door, yanking it open.
My head pounded as my mind repeated the damning word over and over again.
Lifting my hand to the side of my head, I dug my fingers into the roots of my hair, frantic and seconds away from a serious meltdown.
In my current hysteria of trying to get to the window where the bright sunshine beamed brightly, I didn’t see the figure until it was too late.
5
Jared
I had barely heard the faint sound of the door shutting behind me when I froze on the spot. My eyes narrowed the moment Gisele hysterically emerge from the bathroom, silently sobbing as she gripped a pale looking plastic stick. She was so distraught she didn’t even notice me as she clashed against my solid frame, dropping the ominous stick on the carpeted floor.
Our eyes collided. Time stood still as my eyes took her in, devoured the very sight of her while I effortlessly maintained my perfectly rehearsed stance of indifference. Gisele Weber was known for her quiet elegance and class. Known for her warmth, gorgeous smile and striking good looks. The perfectly practiced look of calm and composure apparently went on vacation, too, because the woman before me wasn’t the Gisele everyone knew. But even in her disheveled state, she still was the most stunning woman I’d ever set my eyes upon.
“Jared!” she squeaked. The panic in her stormy gray eyes transformed into a jolt of shock as the full realization of my presence sunk in. Her utter puzzlement was heavily expressed on her pretty face before she fretfully licked her lips and swallowed with difficulty, seeming quite breathless as she stared at me with a horrified, stricken face.
My gaze steadily noted the tinting of her cheeks, reddening with heightened embarrassment as she braced herself around her torso, hiding her breasts that were blatantly peeking through her silk robe. My eyes lingered on her for a moment before my reluctant attention diverted towards the floor.
Ever so stealthily, I grimly glanced downwards before guardedly grasping the offending object, scrutinizing it with great severity.
My jaw instantaneously locked as the word blatantly stared back at me in bold letters.
Pregnant, it starkly stated.
She’s bloody pregnant?
Oh, for fuck’s sake, she’s eighteen! What in the hell was she doing with her body, playing as though it’s some bloody Russian Roulette?
Gritting my teeth, I mustered my haggard courage to settle down and not give this reckless woman a bloody fucking lecture about safe sex.
The past twenty-four hours had been an unmitigated nightmare. It was getting madder by the day. I was the bearer of bad news, and if she thought her life just took a hasty turn for the worst, she could think again. Life was not one to coddle you when the going got rough. Life granted you mini quakes before it shook your world upside down, cripplingly stomping its mighty strength on you. Its blinding power would crush your chest. It would revel in your screams as it gleefully watched you heave for air. It’d torture you, ruthlessly eviscerate you before it would deal you your final blow, one that would ensure a lifelong lesson of numbness, an emotional mayhem guaranteeing permanent trauma.
Even knowing what I knew, my irritated stance hadn’t diminished. Still highly infuriated at her naivety, I controlled the seething rage coiling as my eyes gathered her tear-stained disheveled state.
“Gisele,” I uttered her name, though my eyes scanned the room, painstakingly taking stock of everything—the rumpled bed, abandoned men’s clothes on one of the armchairs, several unfinished champagne bottles to the empty condom packets on the side table.
My already blackened mood descended further into the blazing pits of hell, loathing the turn of events as they enlightened me on how deceiving her good girl image had been. She’d surely fooled the rest of us. Was this how she covered her tracks, by indulging in wild random sex during summer breaks so the security team couldn’t properly monitor the men she was ensconced with?
“The scene of the crime. Where the never-ending debauchery, endless wickedness carrying on until the break of dawn, and indulging in sinful fantasies come into sublime culmination of forbidden decadence happens on the daily.” Arching a mocking brow at her, I pointedly leveled my gaze, analyzing. “I hope it was worth it, Gisele.”
The blush in her cheeks traveled lower, spreading towards her neck and her ample cleavage. “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked just as she tried to yank the offending plastic out of my death-grip and miserably failed.
“I’m curious. So, this is what you do every summer? You and your friends gallivant around, hanging off of men’s arms, indulging all your bad habits before going back home and playing the part of a good girl again?”
She glared at me. “I’ve never claimed to be a good girl, and quite frankly, I don’t ever wish to be one.”
“Tough luck. It seems you’ll have to be one since you’re to become a mother, after all.”
She shivered as her lips pressed together. “I-I didn’t plan for it to be like this. I was just so broken after you—” She paused, her horrified expression doubled before her pallor turned pale.
My frown deepened. She was distraught. Impulsively, I found myself pulling her into my arms. Her cheek rested on my neck, her body rigid as my palm soothed her back. “I apologize if I was being harsh. It was unintentional.”
; “It’s my fault…” she breathed out, her body loosening up in my hold.
“Don’t fret. We’ll figure something out.” Cradling the top of her head, I counted to five before lifting her face to me. “I’m sorry to be the one to break this, but I came here bearing bad news.”
“Bad news? Is it about my father?” Those bright exotic gray eyes snapped out of her funk, dismissing her immediate problem at the mere thought of her father.
Since there was no way to lessen the impact, I found it best to simply lay it out in the open, and she could come to terms with it however she could.
“Your father invited me for dinner yesterday,” I began to say while my eyes closely trained on her tear-stained face. “He disclosed he has stage four prostate cancer. He’s known for the past year and waited until it’s gotten to the last stage before enlightening any of us. He refused chemo and all of the doctors’ advice. He only wishes his legacy remains intact once he leaves this life. Since he’s appointed me as his estate’s executor and as your sole guardian, his proposed solution for keeping his legacy unbroken, however, is a tricky one. He wishes for us to marry since I hold twenty percent and you’ll be inheriting his forty. Together, we’d have a solid sixty percent hold of the company. I’ll be taking the reins as Peter previously announced two years ago. But with you by my side, with your vote, the other shareholders wouldn’t question my position any longer.”
“Oh, no. Not him, too!” Her body trembled. Her face contorted. Shock, sadness, and horror played out in her anguished eyes as tears followed, sobbing softly.
I expected hysterics, wailing—anything but acceptance. I was the true opposite of her reaction. I was enraged, beyond mental, and in grave pain all at once.
We were in the middle of the room as I held her crying figure. I’d lost track of time, but not once did I let go until Gisele slowly quieted down. Her sobs turned into sniffs. Her shivering body began to still.
“Since you’re pregnant, what are your plans with its father?” Where was the man of the hour? More importantly, who was the man? If they decided to marry for the sake of the baby, I wouldn’t stand in their way. I was sure there were other options to consider in securing Peter’s legacy and peace of mind without jeopardizing the baby’s future as well. Whatever Gisele decided to do, I’d fully support it without either way.
“Nothing.” She shuddered, shaking her head. “He’s a lying, cheating, two-timing asshole. I don’t want anything to do with him.”
Again, as much as I wanted to reprimand her reckless actions, I knew this wasn’t the moment to be contemptuous. Besides, there were more important details to hash over. “Us getting married would solve all of this. The baby requires a father. I’m more than willing to be one if you allow me to be.”
She loudly gasped, mouth hanging ajar. “You’d do that?”
Once, I thought nothing else but having my own. But that was all buried in the past. “Of course, every child deserves to have two parents in their lives.”
“Arranged marriage…” she murmured with a blank stare. “What are your stipulations?”
Gisele was too sharp, or maybe she knew me better than I imagined.
“Your father will expect it to be a regular arranged marriage, so I’m hoping to keep this between us. My only demand is that I’ll get to have a personal life outside of this agreement. You can divorce me anytime you want. If the time comes you fall in love and want to marry, I won’t stand in your way. I’ll move in at the compound as soon as it can be arranged. We’ll be sharing a bed until…the inevitable happens. We’ll carry on as before. No one needs to know of our arrangement. In the public’s eyes, I’ll be your guardian, nothing more.”
She nodded before directing me those intense fathomless pools of gray. “You won’t be sharing my bed?”
“Not in that sense, no.”
“You’ll have a mistress, then?”
“I’m currently with someone; her name’s Rose. She won’t know of our arrangement, but I do intend to keep her. You can carry on with yours as well. I won’t hinder you from dating after you’ve settled into motherhood and resuming school in Stanford.”
“Right. Of course,” she said with an edge to her voice. “When do you need me to leave?”
“I applied for the marriage license yesterday. We have to leave as soon as possible. Your father wants to speak with you, too. The jet’s being refueled as we speak. Will you be ready in an hour’s time?”
“Yes, I’ll be ready.” Her lips pressed together, seemingly avoiding my meticulous gaze as she pulled her body off mine, putting a great amount of space between us.
Her immediate withdrawal made me frown. “Okay. I’ll leave you be. I’ll be in the stateroom, waiting for you once you’re set to leave.”
There was something in her eyes I couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t sadness. More of anger and something along those lines. It couldn’t have been directed at me. It had to be towards the lying cheat she mentioned before. What asshole would abandon her in her delicate state?
Poor Gisele. She couldn’t seem to catch a break. With a baby on the way and its father out of the picture, topped with her father’s impending demise, I could only imagine the turmoil and confusion she was experiencing.
Whatever happened from here on out, I’d be her silent strength, ensuring she wanted for nothing.
6
Gisele
“Is there anything else I can get to make you comfortable?” Jared strode in the bedroom situated at the back of the jet where I’d been trying to sleep for the past three hours to no avail.
He found me staring holes into the ceiling, donning only my robe. My eyes dropped, only to connect with cerulean blues, studying him with open scrutiny.
“Why are you doing this?” I found myself asking. “You’ve said you needed my vote. You have it. So, why, Jared? I don’t get why you’re willing to sacrifice yourself.”
“Your father wished it of me. He’s done so much for me…This is his last wish…You know I’d do anything to make him ecstatic, Gisele.”
“You’re sacrificing a lot to achieve such results.”
“I owe him my life,” he said as if it was explanation enough. “Do you have any reservations? If so, I’d like to address them now before we get home.”
As if I’d ever turn him down. Or my father at that. “I’ll follow what my father asks of me; don’t doubt that for a second. But what I want to ask is, why can’t we try to make this into a real one, Jared? Maybe not right away, but maybe later on when things aren’t so crazy around us…”
“A real one?” he appeared perplexed, as if the thought never occurred to him.
“Yes, the whole shebang.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“Why not? Am I not pretty enough for you?” Amongst other things. I knew the answer, but I asked, anyway.
He paused before vehemently shaking his head. “No, it’s not that, but I have needs I doubt you can satisfy.”
“I can learn to please you.”
“Gisele, please don’t take this as an insult…but I don’t see you that way. You are so young, and I need a woman, not a girl.”
A girl. He saw me as a girl. I sighed loudly, swallowing the bitter rejection before making a small nod, never wanting to open that can of worms again.
“Is there anything else you want to discuss further, apart from where I’ll be spending some of my nights?”
“I think I’m good for now.”
I finally get to have my wish, but I’ll only get the icing, not the cake, I bitterly thought as I tried to swallow the lump that had been lodged in the back of my throat since I had found him standing there in my bedroom. And there was the surprise pregnancy issue. Though Jack was meticulous in wearing protection, was there a possibility of it being Jared’s? After all, the man didn’t wear one that night.
The moment we landed, calling for an appointment had to be a priority. I’d rather sort this out and figure out how far into t
he pregnancy I was. Maybe then I’d get a clearer picture. If it turned out to be Jack’s, should I bother telling him?
The trivial matters could wait. My father and the appointment were far more critical than weighing in on Jack being a capable father.
“Papa?” I called out the moment I heard the door secured behind me. Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” softly echoed in the background. Knowing how my father functioned, the song would be on a loop until he was ready to retire for the day.
The entire house had cameras in every corner. The second we entered the gate, he’d have been alerted already. He’d been expecting me.
The security in this house was top notch. There was a safe room on every floor. Each bedroom had one. There was no switch in our home. Each room functioned with voice commands. Each section had authorized voice encryptions, and if it weren’t recognized, the security that littered the grounds would be immediately alerted. My father wasn’t a paranoid man, but ever since he began accepting government funded projects on the side a few years back, things drastically changed. He was cautious; working with the government entailed the dangers of our national security if his projects got leaked or hacked. My father once alluded that he could be the world’s greatest hacker…until Jared came along and proved him otherwise.
Jared St. James was the son he never had. He found joy and camaraderie with him, whereas with me, I was the daughter he kept at arm’s length after his wife died. If I hadn’t been so crazy about Jared, I’d have probably resented his relationship with my father. But I had no ill feelings whatsoever. Truth be told, I was glad he had Jared in his life. Had it not been for Jared’s keeping a close eye on him, he’d have probably wasted his life on other things than working incessant hours at the headquarters.
Peter Weber Technologies, Inc.—or Web, as the consumers preferred call it. The mammoth company in Silicon Valley referred to as ‘the headquarters’ or “the campus” to some.
