Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Anthea
Since Vanessa's little garden stunt, I'd learned to keep my head down. Way down. I stopped going outside, stopped looking for those rare soft moments in Silas's eyes.
That evening, Maria told me to come to dinner. I wanted to say no, but—
"Miss Vanessa will be there too," Maria said. "Pakhan's orders."
I stared at myself in the mirror. Swollen. Exhausted. Nothing like I used to be. Maybe that's what they wanted—the Bratva Pakhan and Silas. A compliant tool.
I walked into the dining room. The chandelier's cold light made me squint. Pakhan sat at the head of the table, radiating authority. Silas sat on his left in a sharp suit, looking like some gorgeous statue.
Vanessa sat across from Silas. She swirled her wine, her red curls draped perfectly over her shoulders. When she saw me, she set down her glass and smiled—polite, empty.
"Anthea, you're here." Her voice dripped sweetness, like we were girlfriends having tea.
Pakhan's eyes swept over my belly like he was inspecting merchandise. My body went rigid.
"Sit," Pakhan said.
I nodded and slipped into a seat at the far end of the table like a shadow.
Dinner dragged on in suffocating silence, just the clink of silverware. I stared at the medium-rare steak on my plate. No appetite.
"About our partnership," Pakhan said suddenly, looking at Vanessa. "How's your father coming along?"
"He's handling the paperwork," Vanessa said smoothly. "Once we announce our engagement, our supply opens completely to Thorne Group. This isn't just business—it's about merging our families."
Silas set down his knife and fork and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "Good."
Even those brief words felt like needles in my chest.
"Speaking of the engagement." Pakhan stopped eating, a slight smile on his face as he looked at Silas. "Your engagement ceremony has to happen right after the baby's born. The Thorne family needs a proper mistress."
"I'll arrange it," Silas said, voice low and even.
My heart clenched, but I forced myself to ignore the pain. I shouldn't feel hurt. This was always the plan.
"And you need to plan ahead for after the baby comes. After all, this is the Thorne family's firstborn—the first child you'll raise together."
My hands twisted my skirt under the table.
"Of course, Mr. Thorne." Vanessa's lips curved. "I've already had the nursery designed, and I've contacted the best nannies. Once the baby's born, they'll take over immediately. Then Anthea can go home."
Vanessa finished and watched me like a snake waiting for its prey to twitch.
My throat felt stuffed with cotton, sour and painful. I was sitting right here, carrying this child, feeling every kick. And they were discussing how quickly they could erase me from his life.
But I couldn't even be angry.
Silas didn't say anything. He lifted his wine glass, took a sip. Those dark gray eyes were unreadable.
"Oh, Silas," Vanessa's voice turned sugary, "what should we name the baby? I was thinking Viktor. It's powerful."
Olei. That name that meant sacred, blessed. Would they just wipe it away? My stomach churned. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be hearing this. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
My silver fork slipped from my fingers and hit the marble floor with a sharp crack.
"Sorry." I bent down, reaching for the fork.
I ducked under the table, hand searching the floor. I found the cold metal quickly. But just as I grabbed it, my eyes caught something underneath the tablecloth.
My blood froze. Vanessa had slipped off one shoe. Her red-painted toes were sliding up and down between Silas's legs. Bold. Shameless. She traced the outline of his crotch with her toes. And Silas didn't pull away. Under her touch, a noticeable bulge formed. He was hard.
Bile surged up my throat. I shot upright, unable to look anymore.
"What's wrong?" Vanessa asked, all innocence. Her foot was probably still working beneath the table.
Silas's eyes met mine, churning with something I couldn't read—lust, restraint, warning?
I couldn't stay.
"I'm full," I stood, voice shaking.
A stern voice cut through. Old Pakhan spoke.
"Dinner isn't over." His gaze sliced toward me. "That's the rule."
I sat back down stiffly, fingers digging into my palm. The sting of my nails breaking skin barely kept me from falling apart.
The rest of dinner was torture.
Finally, Pakhan stood and headed to his study. I thought I could escape.
"Let's go to the sitting room," Vanessa said, linking her arm through Silas's. "I want some fruit. That steak was too heavy."
Silas let her lead him to the sofa.
I started to slip away, but Vanessa's voice stopped me like a curse. "Anthea, come along. The doctor said pregnant women need to move around. Staying cooped up isn't good for the baby."
I wanted to refuse, but Silas's look told me I had no choice. My feet felt like lead as I followed.
The sitting room fireplace blazed, but it didn't warm me at all.
Vanessa curled against Silas, the two of them draped over each other like conjoined twins. A fruit platter sat on the coffee table—expensive imported varieties.
"These apples aren't peeled yet." Vanessa frowned, then her eyes landed on me naturally. "Anthea, would you mind? I'm sure you're better at it than those clumsy maids."
I clenched my fists, looked at Silas, hoping he'd say something. But he just leaned back on the sofa, one hand on Vanessa's waist, watching me coldly like I truly meant nothing.
In that moment, my heart turned to ice.
"Fine," I said, voice dry.
I walked to the table and picked up a fruit knife, mechanically peeling the apple.
Vanessa giggled, feeding Silas a grape. He opened his mouth and took it. When his lips brushed her fingers, Vanessa jerked her hand back with exaggerated playfulness. "You bit me!"
My knife slipped, taking off a huge chunk of apple. But they didn't notice. I arranged the sliced pieces on a plate and pushed it toward them.
Vanessa speared a piece with a fork and held it to Silas's lips. "Darling, try it."
Silas ate from her hand. My vision blurred. Enough. I'd had enough.
"Can I go now?" I was practically begging.
Vanessa seemed bored with her game. She waved dismissively. "Go. Have the maids clean this up."
I fled that suffocating room like a pardoned prisoner. As I turned, I thought I heard Silas's low laugh.
I ducked into the kitchen, desperate for water to wash down the lump in my throat.
A few maids were clustered together, chatting. When I walked in, they went silent. Strange looks passed between them. Since Vanessa arrived, the staff had learned to show different faces to different people. They knew who the real future mistress was.
I pretended not to notice and poured myself water. Then I remembered I hadn't taken my prenatal vitamin. I went to the cabinet, but the bottle that was usually on the middle shelf was gone. I looked around and finally spotted it on the very top shelf.
"Who moved the vitamins up there?" I asked.
"Oh, probably someone cleaning put them there," Martha said, turning to wipe the counter.
Since that day in the garden when she'd followed Vanessa's orders, Martha had changed. I knew why. The maid who'd helped me in the garden had been fired on trumped-up charges that Vanessa invented. I couldn't save her. Martha was scared of ending up the same way. I understood completely.
The other maids were the same, afraid any association with me would offend Vanessa. They followed Martha's lead and busied themselves.
I stared helplessly at the top shelf. I could barely reach it normally, let alone with this belly.
"Could you get it for me?" I kept my tone even.
"Sorry, Miss Carter, I just threw out my back. Can't move," one maid said, rubbing her lower back dramatically.
Another chimed in. "I've got work to finish."
I bit my lip and dragged over a chair that looked sturdy enough. No matter how much I begged, they wouldn't help. And what little dignity I had left wouldn't let me grovel to these people.
I held my waist and carefully stepped onto the chair. I reached up for the bottle. My fingertips just touched it when my balance shifted.
"Ah!" I screamed.
The chair scraped across the floor, sliding sideways. I lost my footing, falling backward. Terror seized my heart. I threw my arms around my belly, praying the baby would be okay even if I broke my leg.
Just as I braced for the impact, a strong arm caught my back, another wrapped around my waist. The expected pain never came. I fell into a solid, warm embrace.
"Careful, Miss Carter," a warm male voice said.
I opened my eyes, still shaken, and saw a young, rugged face. Ryan, one of the security guards for the manor.
He steadied me, made sure I was stable, then let go.
He frowned at the maids. "What the hell are you doing? If something happened to Miss Carter, which one of you would take responsibility?"
The maids who'd been watching turned pale, heads down, silent. Ryan easily retrieved the bottle and handed it to me.
"Thank you," I said, heart still pounding. "If you hadn't been there, I don't know what would've happened. Thank you."
"It's my job," Ryan said, his stern face softening into an honest smile.
"I can't even get a pill bottle down. I must look like a clumsy penguin," I said, trying to laugh at myself.
"No, Miss Carter, you look perfectly normal, beautiful even—I mean, creating life is something incredible," Ryan said, scratching his head, cheeks flushing.
I froze, looking into his sincere, clear eyes. Then I laughed—really laughed.
It was the first genuine laugh I'd had in months. In this cold manor full of hostility and schemes, his kindness let me drop my guard. For that moment, I almost forgot the humiliation in the sitting room, forgot all the darkness crushing me.
Then a chilling cold swept in from the doorway, freezing the air in the kitchen.
I turned instinctively and saw Silas and Vanessa standing at the entrance. My body went rigid, the smile dying on my face.
"What the hell is going on here?" Silas's massive frame radiated menace as he glared at me and Ryan.
I opened my mouth to answer, but Vanessa's gleeful voice got there first. "Looks like Anthea and the bodyguard are getting along quite well. How cozy."
Those words were gasoline on fire.
Ryan jumped back like he'd been electrocuted, trying to put distance between us. He lowered his head, respectful and terrified. "Boss, Miss Carter almost fell. I was just—"
"I don't need explanations," Silas cut him off, voice cold as ice. "Get out. Go take your punishment."
Ryan's face went ashen, but he didn't dare look up. He muttered something and hurried out.
I panicked. It was my fault. Ryan had just saved me. Why should he be punished?
"Silas, why are you blaming him? He didn't do anything wrong, I—" I tried to explain.
But Silas strode forward and seized my wrist. His grip was brutal, making me gasp.
"You're coming with me." He didn't even glance at Vanessa as he dragged me upstairs.
"Silas, you're hurting me!" I struggled.
Though he was mindful of my belly and didn't walk too fast, his hand tightened around my wrist like he wanted to snap it. He hauled me up the stairs, through the long hallway. Then he shoved the bedroom door open and slammed me against the wall.
Boom—the door shut.
Silas's massive body loomed over me. His eyes churned with violent fury, rage burning around him.
"I was just getting my vitamins. I fell off the chair, and Ryan caught me..." My voice shook.
"Ryan? You sure remember other men's names pretty fucking clearly," Silas said, eyes bloodshot, voice dripping ice. "Did you forget what you are? You're carrying my child, and you're smiling at another man right under my nose?"
Before I could react, he'd ripped my maternity dress apart, then my bra and underwear. In an instant, I was naked. His rough, burning hands covered my breasts without mercy.
"Ah!" I cried out.
He kneaded them roughly, fingers digging in, leaving red marks.
"Let go!" I struggled, twisting. "He just helped me. Are you insane?"
"I'm insane?" Silas laughed bitterly. "Anthea, that little shit couldn't take his eyes off you. He's probably jerking off in some corner, imagining you pregnant and spread out in bed!"
"He wouldn't!" The humiliation made me shake with rage. "You think everyone's as shameless as you and Vanessa, fooling around under the dinner table? You disgust me."
The words were out before I could stop them. I'd been obedient, patient, because I knew I meant nothing to this man. But tonight's accumulated pain and humiliation were too much. I needed to lash out.
"You dare talk back to me over some bodyguard?" Silas snarled, his fury morphing into something darker. "Anthea, you're mine. Looks like I need to remind you exactly who this body belongs to."
His calloused thumb roughly scraped across my already hardened nipple, sending jolting pain through me.
Heat shot from my chest to my belly. My knees went weak, breathing ragged. My body betrayed my will.
"Look at that. Your body's welcoming me," Silas said, lips curling into a cruel smile.
His hand slid down my swollen belly and between my legs. I was already wet from his touch. His fingers plunged into me, and when he pulled them out, they glistened with slick.
"Soaked. Your cunt's begging me to fuck it," Silas said, holding up his wet fingers, eyes dark.
Then he forced those two slick fingers into my mouth.
"Mmph!" My mouth opened as his fingers invaded, stirring roughly.
"Taste how filthy you are," he said, pressing on my tongue, making me swallow my own arousal.
Tears pricked my eyes.
"Could that bodyguard get you this fucking wet?" He pulled his fingers out, voice low and mocking.
"At least he wouldn't be as brutal and controlling as you!" Shame burned through me. I squeezed out the words with all my strength.
The moment I spoke, Silas's lips crashed down on mine.
My eyes flew open in shock. God, he was kissing me. This was the first time he'd ever kissed me.
His technique was rough but aggressive. His teeth split my lip. His tongue forced past my teeth. The taste of blood flooded our mouths. He swept through every inch of me on pure instinct, sucking the air from my lungs.
I was dizzy from the kiss. Saliva spilled from the corner of my mouth. When I thought I'd suffocate, Silas finally pulled back slightly.
"Your mouth tastes fucking incredible, Anthea," he said, voice rough and dangerous. "These lips, this goddamn sweetness... if another man tastes it, I'll snap his neck."
My chest heaved. A thought flashed through my mind. He was losing control. He was jealous. He was jealous. Right? This untouchable, ruthless man was going crazy because I'd smiled at a bodyguard. He cared about me.
A sick sense of satisfaction bloomed in my chest. Hope I thought was dead flickered back to life.