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“Calm the fuck down,” Mark hisses.

But Carl’s sobbing now. “It’s mine!” he cries out, still trying to pry himself out of Mike’s hold. “The baby is mine! I gave Jemima that baby, and I’m the father. Not you!”

My eyes go to my girlfriend, and she’s still on the floor in the corner of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, rocking in a ball while crying. Her shoulders shake from sobs, and I don’t give a damn what happens to Carl now. I just need him out of here and away from my girl.

I turn to Mark. “Leave. Now,” I growl.

Mark nods, and another security guard comes over to help drag Carl out of the room. The cowardly man squeals and kicks, but it’s no use. Security overpowers him, and within a few moments, they’re gone.

The silence afterwards is deafening, and I make my way over to Jemima before scooping her into my arms. Her arms immediately go around my neck, holding me tight, and she buries her face in my shirt, drenching the fabric with her tears.

I carry my woman over to the couch and sit, keeping her in my lap. She’s trembling as I hold her, and I rub soothing circles on her back while murmuring gentle words. Pressing a kiss to the top of her hair, I tell her, “I’ve got you,” over and over until her body slowly stops shuddering.

Still, it’s a while before she stops crying but I don’t try to rush her because I’m in shock, too. Never in my life have I been as scared as I was when I saw Carl standing over Jemima with that golf club, ready to bash in her head.

“How?” Her voice is a low croak against my chest, and she clears her throat. “How did you know that he was here, in your apartment?”

She looks up at me with her tear-stained face and the fear and sadness in her eyes makes my heart crack wide open. But I can’t let her see my own pain right now because Jemima needs me to be strong. I run my knuckles softly down her cheek.

“Sweetheart, security spotted the two of you on camera in the drugstore while he was making a scene. When they saw you getting into the private elevator with him, that’s when they decided to approach me.”

She winces when I say that last part.

“I can’t believe he…” her voice is cut off by another sob.

“Shh,” I hug her tight against me. “Carl’s gone now. You’ll never have to see that asshole again. No one threatens my girlfriend like that.”

Jemima sobs more, burying her face in my neck. I merely continue to stroke her hair and back, murmuring words of comfort. We stay like this for about ten minutes until she stops trembling and her breathing starts to normalize as the tears dry. Then, she lifts her face and rubs away those flushed cheeks with the heels of her hands.

Her eyes meet mine and there’s a new sense of worry reflected in them. “I guess I was an idiot for inviting him to the penthouse, wasn’t I?” she whispers.

I nod. “Yes, but it’s okay, baby. I know you didn’t want to cause a scene, and the penthouse was the first private place you thought of.”

She nods again, dropping her head.

“It was so awful, Bruce. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw how nice it was, and he was jealous! He started calling me a whore, and saying I was only dating you because of your money! He said that I quote-unquote “traded up.” It was so awful!”

I kiss her curls again.

“Yes, but both of us know that’s not true, so it doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Put it out of your head.”

She sobs a bit more, and then turns tear-stained eyes to me.

“But there’s a part of it that’s true.”

I push an errant curl behind one ear.

“Oh yeah? Which part, baby?”

She takes a deep breath and then meets my eyes.

“I’m expecting, Bruce. At least, I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m having your baby. That’s why I was at the drugstore, because I needed to get a pregnancy test. But you know how I’ve been having morning sickness for weeks now, and how I’ve been craving all these strange foods?”

“Like roasted cauliflower tacos?” I say, my brows raised.

“Yes!” Jemima exclaims although then her expression grows indignant. “For your information, roasted cauliflower tacos are really good though!”

I laugh and cup her beautiful face with my own. Smiling, I dip my head and give her a soft kiss. “I know. You’re pregnant,” I say as a statement, not a question because I’m sure she’s right.

Jemima nods and takes a deep breath before turning to me.

“Yes, I think I am, but Bruce, if I am, this baby is definitely yours because … well, Carl was basically impotent when we were together. He was so tiny, and most of lot of the time, he couldn’t even get it up. In fact, we hadn’t had sex for about six months before I met you, so actually, there’s no way this baby could be his.”

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