"You were pregnant?" His words came out in a whisper.
"Yes.Was. Sweet, innocent Daisy here found herself in a little bit of trouble, and found a way out of it. However, fixing one problem led to a bigger one, and that's where I came in to help."
I stood up and rested my hand on my middle. I was going to throw up.
Max was loving this. He'd been waiting for this day, no doubt.
"You see, Lydia's biological mother, Mia, was a nobody. Some chick on a DEI scholarship. She came from a shit family, with no money, no name, a true fucking embarrassment. It was bad enough people saw me in public with her, but now she was carrying the child of a Stanton? No, that wasn't going to fucking happen. I had to figure out something else. And Daisy, what was your problem again? Oh yeah, your grandma found out you were pregnant and told you if you aborted it, she'd disown you. And you couldn't pay for ballet school if you had no money. Do you see where I’m going with this, Gatsby?" Max spat.
Gatsby soaked in the information. "You agreed to adopt the child, to keep your inheritance."
I hurried to a trash can, hurling my head into it and vomiting. I was a horrible human. I chose money over the well-being of a child.
"Not just adopt my daughter. She also agreed to marryme, and before you came around, she'd grown to love me. Didn’t you, Daisy? Love me. We were going to have a child of our own soon. Before you came into the picture.”
Liar!
The room was spinning. I stood and wiped my mouth. I walked to the mini bar and took a swig from the open bottle. It burned, and I gagged, but I needed the taste of vomit out of my mouth.
“I never loved you, Max. I did what I had to do. I stayed because I was waiting for Gatsby.”
“A man you thought was on death row?” He snickered. As the three of us went rounds with each other, Clarke had sat to watch us.
“I would have waited forever if I had to.” I turned to Gatsby. “Max and I couldn’t have had a child because we’ve never had sex, and that was never going to change.” I stared pointedly at him.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” he muttered, and, as if remembering, raised the gun again. “Tonight, this is ending. You’re not leaving this room alive, Gatsby, and after the party, me and Daisy will be leaving forever. I'm taking her away, and she'll never see this fucking lake again. Clarke, do it." He motioned to his partner.
Clarke stood and dug into his coat pocket. He removed a set of handcuffs and bunji rope. Gatsby tried to stand, but Max cocked the gun and he was forced to sit back down as Clarke handcuffed his wrist to the arm of the chair and then tied him to it.
"What's the point of this, if you're just going to shoot me? I'm not moving," Gatsby said.
"I want you to watch as Daisy and I make our first child together."
I stiffened as Max swung his gun at me. I stepped backward, hitting a bookcase.
"Clarke, hold her down."
"Don't do this." I shook my head. "Max, this is wrong."
"Wrong? You want to tell me what I'm doing is wrong? Your boyfriend kills people. He was going to kill me, if you don't remember. They found Yong this morning. In Sweden. I'm not stupid; I know he didn't kill himself. Not to mention Lilly. Clarke is a widower because of him. It's eat or be eaten, quite literally with this one." He smirked at Gatsby. "And I'll be damned if I am someone's fucking meal."
I scanned the room, looking for an escape. Clarke was coming toward me, his eyes looking hungry, excited almost.
“Is this why you’re doing all of this, Clarke, because you think Gatsby killed Lilly?”
“Daisy”…" Gatsby warned.
Clarke paused, the light in his eyes dulling.
"Yes. She was my everything. She was beautiful and sweet and never would have looked at another man. Gatsby seduced her, had been trying to convince her to leave me, and when she wouldn't, he killed her."
"How are you so sure?" I asked.
"Max found his diary." He pointed to Gatsby.
Diary?
A devious smile crept across Max’s lips. There was no fucking diary. Clarke grabbed me and dragged me over to the desk. He took hold of my wrists and shoved me down so I was bent across the desk, with him holding me in place. A chill of fear ran down my spine as I heard Max's footsteps behind me, inching toward me.
