Ella
Instant stress accompanied the text.
I was weeks away from my twenty-fifth birthday, and I knew he would never change.
I stared at the screen again.
How long could his liver possibly last?
JC: Please. I won’t ask you for anything ever again. You’re rich now. ￡25k is nothing to you. Transfer the money and I will lose your number. These men will kill me.
Nick plucked the phone from my hand.
“Hey.”
I was more embarrassed about my piece-of-shit dad than I was about Nick taking my phone.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.
His face darkened. Lips tightened. Jaw clenched.
Then he passed my phone to Alec.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
Years of shame were a hard habit to shake.
When I opened my eyes, my pale blue phone rested in Rowan’s hand.
He took a sip of coffee before tapping on the screen.
I couldn’t see what he was writing, but it looked like he was responding to my dad.
He smiled grimly as he handed the phone back to me.
The message log was gone.
I set the phone on the table.
Alec tapped my leg. When I looked down, the dusky pink pill rested between his thumb and finger.
When he opened his hand, there was no white pill.
No contraception.
I stared at him, confusion blooming, slow and cold in my chest.
No. It wasn’t just him. All three of them were staring at me. Waiting.
Bright blue eyes.
Hazel ones full of glee.
Dark brown ones, fully dilated.
My gaze dropped to the dusky pink vitamin.
The main brand colour for a prenatal supplement.
It had been staring me in the face for weeks.
Had I remained blissfully ignorant on purpose?
No.
My eyes snapped back to Alec’s.
He’d tricked me with the birth control pill.
“What was the white pill?” I whispered.
This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t be pregnant. But the fatigue, the unsettled stomach—and oh my God. When was my last period?
“Sugar,” Rowan said.
I lifted my hand, almost touching my chest.
It made sense. My breasts had been tender—but I’d told myself I was due my period.
“Sugar,” I said, my voice low and flat as I stared at them.
Nothing registered.
I lowered my hand to my stomach.
Whose baby was it?
The number of times they’d come inside me. Together.
A joint venture.
Warmth covered my hand. Fingers curled gently around my palm.
Alec.
It should have been comforting. Right now, it felt like another lie.
I stood up—and Alec rose with me.
“Open.”
The single word settled between us.
I needed space, and even that was smothered.
He lifted the pill. Nick held out the glass of water.
Tears prickled behind my eyes, but I opened my mouth and swallowed the pill with a mouthful of water.
No one followed me.
Through a haze, I went upstairs. Past the bedroom. Past the bed. Into the bathroom.
I locked the door.
Only then did I let the tears fall.
A child was growing inside me, and I was surrounded by predators.
I thought about my teenage years in the scheme. University—when I’d felt almost safe. Then my working years as an adult. Functional. Independent.
Until my father reappeared.
I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my face, blowing my nose.
They wouldn’t hurt a baby.
Their baby.
But they could use it to control me.
Was that any different from now?
A soft knock on the door made my head snap up.
“Ella,” Rowan said quietly.
He didn’t knock again.
“I—I just need a minute,” I said, but my head was spinning.
“It’s not a game, Ella. We all want you—and everything you come with,” Rowan said after a few seconds of silence.
What about what I wanted?
Fuck.
What did I want?
I tossed the tissue into the bin and dragged my hands through my hair, staring at my reflection. I lifted my vest and tugged my shorts down, turning sideways.
It could be natural weight gain.
I shook my head.
Not with the amount of come they’d put inside me.
Anger crept in slowly, a low, steady burn.
I snapped the lock open and shoved past Rowan.
They were all there.
Nick—serious.
Alec—amused.
Rowan—concerned.
“What if you have diseased dicks?” I snapped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “Or some kind of genetic mutation?” I jabbed a finger at Alec. “Especially you.”
“Whoa,” Alec said, lifting his hands slightly. “Harsh.”
“Which one of you decided for me?” I demanded, needing to smash something. “Huh?”
I stalked to my dresser and grabbed a bottle of perfume, hurling it at them.
Missed.
They all moved at once.
I snatched another, then another, chasing them back, throwing two bottles as hard as I could.
“Ah, fuck,” Alec grunted when one clipped his shoulder.
“Hah!” I barked, already turning to grab more ammunition.
“It was all Rowan’s idea,” Alec said, ducking behind the bed.
I hurled another bottle, aiming straight for Rowan’s face—but he caught it mid-air before it could connect.
“Is this the wrong time to ask what kind of nursery you want?” Nick drawled, already backing through the doorway.
I threw the last bottle anyway.
The door slammed shut just as the glass shattered against it.
I was still staring at the splintered wood when Rowan hit me.
His body slammed into mine, driving me back onto the bed, his full weight knocking the air clean out of my lungs as he landed hard on top of me.
“Get off me, you bastard,” I said, clawing at his face.
Hands caught my wrists and pinned them to the soft mattress.
Alec.
Rowan’s dark eyes bored into me.
“You’re part of us,” he said. “That includes your womb.”
I gasped.
Genuinely shocked.
“We’re not diseased,” Alec added calmly. “We get checked. And the last thing we’d ever do is step outside our circle.”
I glanced up at Alec.
There was no smirk. No amusement. No cruelty.
He looked content.
Rowan shifted, straddling me fully.
Alec’s lips brushed my neck.
The door opened. Glass crunched beneath Nick’s weight.
When had I ever stood a chance against the three of them?