Chapter 14
MADALINA
I saw the worried look on his face when I lied and told him I was drunk. He was mad. So mad that he wanted to fuck me like a freight train and make me pay for it. But he couldn’t, because Dario DeMarco strongly suspects that I’m carrying his child.
I’m surprised that I’m the first one down for breakfast, especially since I’ve spent the last half hour hanging over the toilet and waiting to be sick. Last night, I may have taken a little pleasure in seeing Dario panic, but it doesn’t take away the fact that his plan has been successful.
I hear his footsteps on the wooden floor but don't turn around. I can already tell by the pace of them that he’s still angry and I can’t help wondering what he did last night after he stormed out of my room.
“Morning.” I manage a smile for him as he takes his seat. I want to kill him for what he’s done to me, but that's not a thought-out plan…Yet.
“Morning.” He nods politely, trying hard not to show how furious he is.
“Have you already eaten?” he checks, clearing his throat as he pours himself some water from the jug .
“I’m not hungry. I’m feeling a little delicate. Must be a hangover, huh?” I notice how the jug shakes in hand from his frustration before he slams it back on the table.
“You need to eat.” He talks through his teeth as he starts to place some fruit on my plate without my permission and when I quickly pull it away, he growls at me in frustration. “I said you need to eat.”
“And I said I’m not hungry.”
“That doesn’t change the fact you need to eat,” he argues, reaching over the table and snatching the plate back out of my hand.
“Dario, you're being ridiculous!” I yell at him.
“No, you're being ridiculous. Drinking? Do you know how dangerous that is for you and our bab?—”
“Our what?” I stare back at him when he makes his first slip-up.
“It’s dangerous,” he repeats.
“Everything you have built around you is dangerous.” I laugh at him, knowing damn well that I’m getting under his skin.
“Not to my fucking wife, it isn’t. I can protect you both from what my family has built, Madalina. I can’t protect you from your own stupidity.” He slams his fist on the table and looks like he’s about to lose control.
“Your eggs, sir.” His housekeeper interrupts us looking sheepish.
“Give them to Mrs. DeMarco,” he orders her, and I quickly stop her before she can place them down.
“I don’t want them,” I tell her in a polite but firm voice.
She turns to put them in front of Dario, instead.
“I told you to give them to Mrs. DeMarco.” He raises his voice, and there's so much tension in his tone, that I swear he’s going to hit the roof .
“I don’t want them…” I place my hand over my mouth as the smell wafts under my nose and I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick. I get up and dash out of the room, running across the hall and practically skidding into the tiny bathroom that Dario has the staff use. There's no time for me to close the door behind me before my stomach empties into the basin. I feel a hand stroking my back and when I look up in the mirror and see him in the reflection looking sorry for me, it takes everything I have not to swing for him.
“You okay?” His voice comes out softer than I’ve ever heard it, and all the anger on his face has morphed into something that looks a lot like empathy.
“I’m fine.” I shrug him away to give me some space.
“You need to see a doctor,” he argues, touching his hand back onto the base of my spine as I rinse out the basin.
“I don’t need a doctor. I have a hangover.” I stick to my lie, despite feeling weak and helpless. If seeing the test wasn’t enough to let it sink in, actually being sick instead of just feeling it has just reminded me that I’m actually growing a child inside me.
“Madalina, you said you felt sick before you drank, you should at least do a test.”
“What kind of test?” I turn around and look him dead in his evil, twisted eyes.
“A pregnancy test. I have some in my office. We can do one together, right now.”
“A pregnancy test?” I manage to laugh. “I take the pill, I don’t need to do a pregnancy test. And why do you keep a supply of pregnancy tests in your office?” I stare back at him, acting confused.
“Just take a test, Madalina,” he whispers weakly, refusing to look back at me.
“No.” I fold my arms, standing firm, and suddenly any calm he was keeping vanishes. He steps forward using his arms to cage me in as he presses his palms into the wall behind me.
“You are taking a fucking test, ” he tells me through gritted teeth.
“I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you–”
“I don’t need to because I already did one!” I cut him off before he can argue, then taking the thin white stick that I pissed on yesterday from my pocket, I shove it into his chest.
“Congratulations, Dario DeMarco, you're going to be a father.” I knee him in his balls causing him to fold over in agony as I force my way out of the bathroom. Then, I ignore his calls after me as I race up the stairs and lock myself in my room.