Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Francesca Rose
When I turned sixteen, I asked my mother if she was in love with my father.
Twenty-five years ago my mother’s fate was the same as mine.
She was passed along to my father’s family to close a business deal and strengthen a bond.
My maternal grandfather, Otis Parks, owned a butcher shop in their small town in Louisiana and my paternal grandfather, George Eden Sr., ran the criminal territory.
Like most crime bosses of the time, George Sr. forced Otis into paying for the protection of his butcher shop.
Once my mother was of age, she began working the front counter, eventually catching the eye of George Jr., who was being trained to follow in his father’s footsteps.
The deal was struck without my maternal grandmother having a say.
The butcher shop was their livelihood, and it wasn’t worth losing everything over a simple arranged marriage or what Otis believed would be a simple life for my mother.
Unlike me, Maria Eden wanted to be a mother. She wanted to feel the unconditional love of a child because she knew she wouldn’t get it anywhere else, especially not her marriage. After my mother told me her story, I was determined not to be caught in the same trap that she had been in.
I was delusional to believe I would go to college, start a new life that didn’t have anything to do with criminal organizations, and break the cycle. I lived in that delusion of a better future, untied to a man, for eight years.
The small kick in my lower abdomen brings me to reality.
I rub my hand up and down my swollen belly, thinking about how much has changed.
Pregnancy does weird things to your mind.
That’s the only way I can explain my connection with the life growing within me.
Only Michael and I know the gender. A baby girl.
My grandmother always said our bloodline was cursed with bringing women into this world as multi-generational bargaining chips.
I cried for a week straight because I knew her fate had the chance to match mine.
My immediate instinct to protect her was the moment I fell in love with the reality of becoming a mom.
I can’t rebel against being used as a pawn, but I can plant the seeds of rebellion in my child.
I’ve grown attached to Kennedy’s movement, the subtle kicks and the feel of her rolling in my belly.
Her little button nose on the sonogram sucked me in before I even had a chance to look away.
I saw the name Kennedy in the book of baby names Michael brought me and the name just felt right.
Kennedy Eden. I don’t know if Ashton would agree to me giving her my maiden name, but I’m betting on him not giving a damn.
Ashton has been more tolerable of me since I told him I was pregnant.
I also think his father spoke to him about how he should treat a pregnant woman.
Especially now that I’m carrying the next generation, I’m to be treated with respect.
He doesn’t even complain about the amount of money I’m spending on baby items.
There’s a light knock on my door, before it slightly opens and Michael’s head pokes through.
He’s just as in love with the idea of this little baby being around as I am.
The man is hiding all the girly clothes I’ve bought her in his room and that thought makes me smile.
Ashton claims he doesn’t care about the gender of the baby, but it’s still information I keep close in case he changes his mind.
“You’re being summoned.”
His brows are furrowed as he takes in my prone body on the bed.
“Do you happen to know what he could possibly want with me?” I say with a strain as I roll to my side to get up.
Michael’s at my side instantly, helping me to my feet. “The devil doesn’t tell his minions his plans.”
I giggle. “I thought you were my minion.”
“You do pay me in a much better currency,” he whispers in my ear as I head towards the door, adding on a gentle pat to my ass.
I swat his hand aside with a laugh and head to a conversation that I’m sure I would rather not have.
Nothing has changed about the way Ashton expects people to wait when you enter his space. You don’t talk but simply wait for him to acknowledge your presence. Being pregnant has given me the excuse to plop my swollen body in a seat instead of standing while being ignored like Michael currently is.
It’s not often that we’re both called in for a meeting together.
Ashton prefers to relay my security plans through Michael, only calling me in when he wants to bully me into listening.
I should be on high alert due to the fact that Michael and I haven’t stopped our affair.
Again, the pregnancy brain doesn’t allow me to worry about the things outside of the little being growing in my body.
So, I wait, completely relaxed and daydreaming about the ice cream I’m going to get as a treat for this meeting.
“I’m pulling your privilege to leave the compound other than for doctor’s appointments. You’re too pregnant and I don’t want my heir to become a target.”
I wasn’t so deluded to believe I was anything more than a baby carrier, but hearing it out loud still stings.
“Cabin fever can’t be healthy for your precious heir, either,” I say in protest.
“You have a little less than a month to go. I think you will be okay,” Ashton says dismissively, already moving on to the next stack of paperwork on his desk.
“And tell me again, how many times have you been pregnant?” I snap.
Ashton's cold eyes meet mine and I watch him mentally warring with himself on how to respond. It’s honestly something to witness, considering months ago he wouldn’t dare hold back his negative thoughts about me.
“You may only leave the house for appointments. You’re dismissed,” he commands through clenched teeth.
“You’re dismissed!” I grunt out in an excellent imitation of Ashton Rose, if I do say so myself.
Michael chuckles, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.
It’s a little after midnight and he just finished chopping up an apple for me to enjoy.
Ashton left for a short trip out of town after our meeting earlier where he demanded I stay put.
So, I don’t worry about him walking in on my impersonation.
“I hope you enjoy these last few days of back talk. He is barely hanging onto his anger at your snark and disobedience.” He raises a brow at my defiance. “I need you to stop putting yourself in harm’s way.”
“This house arrest situation is bullshit, and you know it.” Michael’s quiet as he breaks my eye contact to look down. “Don't tell me you’re buying into this.”
“Princess, he has bigger enemies than your father ever had. He’s hellbent on making a name for himself and he doesn’t care who he fucks over to do it. His decisions will put you and the baby in danger.”
He’s serious. His stern expression confirms his worry over the safety of me and the acrobatic baby tumbling in my belly. Michael moves from his spot at the counter over to me, placing his hands on my stomach.
“Don’t you make me cry, Michael.” Tears are already burning the backs of my eyes.
“You know how much you and this little girl mean to me.” Repeating the words he has recited throughout my pregnancy, making sure I never forget.
I nod, too emotional to form words. We’re both idiots.
If we were ever caught, we would be as good as dead, but neither of us have ever dared to end it.
We’re both still living for the happiness of today because it’s all we have.
Tomorrow brings the unknown and I’m perfectly content with the now as Michael leans in, placing a soft kiss on my lips.
A sharp contracting pain moves through my abdomen, and I grunt before breathing through it.
The past few days have brought on the Braxton Hicks contractions, but this feels much different.
Another tensing of muscles rolls through me and with it a gush of fluid soaks my inner thighs.
I look up to Michael to find him staring down.
“I think my water just broke,” I say, fear taking over my mind.
Another contraction rolls through my body, and I groan in pain, not bothering to remain quiet.
“We need to get your things and get you to the car.” Michael says frantically.
I release a deep breath now that the contraction has passed.
“It’s too soon to leave. The contractions just started and are too far apart.”
“Franny, baby, we're an hour out from your preferred hospital. A lot can change within that time, and I’m not going to take any chances,” he says, taking hold of my arm and gently guiding me out of the kitchen. “Do you want to change clothes?”
My response is lost as another contraction moves through the lower part of my stomach. I grab onto the doorframe bracing myself as I let out a long, agonizing moan and try to breathe through the pain. There’s motion going on around me that I barely register.
“Franny girl, just breathe. The bags are already packed, and Michael is going to get the car. Let’s make our way to the door.” Kathy’s calming voice grounds me as she shuffles me towards the door.
“Kathy, I can’t do this,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“Nonsense. You’re the most stubborn woman I know. If anyone could do it, it’s you.” She grips my chin. “This is your baby. Now let’s go bring them home.”