Chapter 18 – Nik
I’d seen her angry countless times before; in fact, that anger was exactly what drew me to her like a moth to a flame. But today’s rage was different. I couldn’t understand how or why. There was just something about the way she reacted to my authority that didn’t feel right.
I spent the whole day replaying that scenario over and over again in my head, trying to make sense of why she was so furious. Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones—I heard pregnant women usually had those in abundance.
Beneath all that rage, though, was a glimmer of pain she tried so hard to mask. She definitely was not ready to be a mother yet, so she projected her fears and insecurities onto me.
“You’re not fit to be a father….” Her words echoed in my head, stinging me like a fuckin bee.
I should be furious. I should hate her for this statement and even punish her. She’d crossed a line and deserved whatever I’d throw at her. Yet that pain in her eyes, that fear and confusion, crippled me. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her, knowing she must be losing her mind right now.
She was only human, and in her condition, craziness was an order of the day. Dikaya was stubborn as a mule, and exerting authority over her would only mean waging war. She was a strong-willed little devil who wouldn’t go down easily.
Treating her poorly would send the wrong message, and she’d want to fight back.
Dikaya was a smart woman who knew I’d never raise my hand against her.
That said, she would definitely use that as leverage.
It wouldn’t matter what punishment I gave her; as long as I didn’t take her life, she’d endure it and fight back even harder.
We’d just keep going back and forth because neither of us would be willing to yield to the other. At this point, I didn’t think I had the mental capacity to deal with such an insignificant war within the walls of my house.
I’d rather walk straight into Richard Kane’s den and fight all his men with my bare hands than deal with an angry, pregnant Dikaya.
A part of me hated how cold I was toward her and how I dismissed her from my sight. But in my defense, she’d crossed a line and needed to be put in her place.
Perhaps if I came up with a better way to handle this situation, we would experience some peace in this house. The two of us couldn’t be angry at the same time, and for the sake of our unborn baby, I’d have to be the reasonable one here.
Have you noticed how you now treat her like a wife? my inner voice asked, and the question sliced through my thoughts. Is that what she’s become? You fuck her once, and all of a sudden she gets wifey treatment?
I frowned at myself for entertaining disrespectful thoughts about her. But the more I tried to avoid the question, the more that voice persisted.
Who exactly is she to you? The mother of your unborn child, your potential wife, or your prisoner?
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples in a slow massage motion.
You’re confused because you haven’t defined your relationship with her, the voice added. She breaks more rules than anyone else in this house and always gets away with it. She’s the only one in the world who can stand up to you and question your authority.
I grabbed the bottle of vodka on my table and poured myself a glass.
Let’s face it; she’s not your prisoner anymore. She’s not your plaything, either. And she’s most certainly more than just the woman carrying your child.
I lifted the glass to my lips and drained it in one shot. I’d had enough of the pesky voice and its unwanted analysis. So I closed my eyes and shoved it to the back of my mind. Whenever I was ready for that breakdown, I’d bring it up again.
The voice was right about a few things; she was now more valuable to me, and that was the problem. I knew deep down that I was starting to get attached to her, and in my world, attachments were dangerous.
If word got out that she was carrying my child, all hell would break loose. Those fucking bastards who couldn’t lay a finger on me would target her as leverage. Honestly, the mere thought of anybody harming her made my blood boil. I’d rather burn the world than let that happen.
That instant, her voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.
I looked out the window behind me and saw her in the garden.
She was talking to her new best friend, Katerina.
Her voice was sweet and angelic, her expression soft and gentle—a stark contrast to the angry woman in my study hours ago.
Katerina had been such a good companion to her recently. And although I didn’t approve of her mingling with the staff, I knew better than to speak up about it.
She wouldn’t listen anyway; instead, she’d give me a heartfelt speech about how we were all human beings, blah blah blah. Not at the moment, though; there’d be nothing heartfelt about her speech this time. She’d end up attacking me, reminding me of how ruthless and cruel I was.
A small grin tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched her laugh with her hands on her belly. I hadn’t seen her like this since that dinner. Beautiful. Blissful. Deep down, I wished she’d always be like that around me.
I walked out of my study and headed to the garden with steady steps. The closer I got to them, the louder their voices became. I rounded a corner behind a neatly trimmed hedge, my eyes settling on Katerina.
As expected, she shrank beneath my stare, and her laughter trailed off. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her eyes dropped to the floor.
Dikaya knew that there was only one man Katerina feared like that. And with a deep scowl on her face, she turned around to look at me.
Katerina gave a curt nod, then excused herself silently.
“Why do you always have to be such a buzz kill?” Dikaya asked, arms crossed over her chest.
I stepped forward, a twig snapping beneath my shoes. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
She raised her brows. “Really?” Disbelief laced her tone. “I’m not allowed in the garden. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying it’s dangerous for you to be out here on your own,” I answered, halting a few paces from her.
She raised her hand in frustration, then clenched her fingers into a fist before lowering her hand. “Okay, first, I wasn’t alone—thanks for scaring away my friend, by the way.”
Friend is a loose term. But by all means.
“And second, what could possibly happen to me in your garden? This place is a fuckin’ fortress. It’s crawling with your watchdogs who won’t take their eyes off me for a second!” she snapped, her words spilling out in a frantic rush.
I didn’t respond. Honestly, I was speechless. She was doing fine before I arrived and took away what little happiness she had in Katerina’s company.
She looked me dead in the eyes and said with a much calmer voice, “I’m not your prisoner, Nik. Stop treating me like one.”
After a moment of hesitation, she walked away from me, heading back into the building.
Indeed, she wasn’t my prisoner anymore. She wasn’t just the vessel carrying my baby, either. She was something more, something I was not yet ready to name.
Later that night, I found her asleep on the living room couch.
And instead of waking her up, I took a seat across from her and crossed my legs in silence.
I watched the innocent look on her face, the gentle curve of her body, and the rising and falling of her chest. Even in her sleep, she was gorgeous.
Mine.
In the dim glow of the table lamp, my gaze was unwavering, my mind reeling with the different possible ways to keep her safe. Her and the baby in her womb.
When she woke up a few minutes later and saw me seated across from her, she didn’t move. Even when we locked eyes, and neither of us looked away, nobody said a word.
However, in the quiet moment, something felt like a fragile truce we were both forced to accept.