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I’ve made some dumb decisions in life, but this isn’t the life I always wanted. I need to stand up and take control of my life and stop letting things happen to me. One thing Jasper and I have in common? I’ve been living in fear of living my life so I wouldn’t disappoint the people around me, but now it’s time I live for me. And my child.
Once I make it to the hotel, I unpack. I’ll raise my child by myself, because I don’t need anyone. I can do this on my own.
I look down at my flat belly and rub over it.
“It’s just me and you, Peanut.”
Jasper
Iknot my tie around neck and glance at myself in the mirror as my stylist fixes the hem of my dress pants. I have a press conference to address my taking over of James’s business. It’s been two weeks since I saw Poppy and I’m not going to lie, I miss her like crazy, and I don’t want to believe she purposely tried to get pregnant. But I just can’t trust her or anyone. I’m going to be a parent to my child, but I don’t know if I want to still be married to her. I know if she divorces me after I acquire the company, it will be a problem between her and her mother, and I don’t want to stress her out. Having a baby is stressful for a woman, and I don’t want to risk losing our baby. Fuck.
I’m going to be a parent. I never thought I’d ever have to say those words again. This is not what I wanted at all. I never wanted a wife, and I never wanted a family. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life as a lonely bachelor, and here comes this stupid-ass marriage contract I had to agree to in order to get James’s company. I still don’t know why the hell he would bestow this hell upon me. Marriage isn’t anything but a goddamn ball and chain to a woman I love.
Fuck. I’m trying to keep my cool, I really am, but it’s hard when the weight of the world is on my shoulders.
I let my greed get the best of me for money, and the only reason why I wanted to take this business was out of spite to Tommy. To show him he couldn’t take what he wanted from me, and I needed to feel connected with James—a man who lied to my face for thirty-three years.
I let out a loud exhale.
My life is going to be complete shit, and what do I get out of it? A lying wife and a baby who might end up with a shitty-ass father that doesn’t know how to be a proper parent because he caused the death of another child.
“Are you okay?” Rose asks as she takes a step back and glances at my suit.
I shake my head. I’m not about to tell her about my personal problems with my wife. It isn’t any of her business, and the minute she sees an opportunity to hop on my dick, she’s going to take it. I need some head and a warm bed, but I want that from Poppy—only Poppy, despite her leaving her wedding band on the nightstand. I have no desire to fuck another woman. Poppy slithered her way into my heart, and even though we’re currently not together, I don’t have it in me to sleep with another woman.
“If you need someone to talk to, let me know. I’m here,” Rose says, pushing up her breasts.
My gaze drops down to her cleavage and I shake my head. “Stop trying to hit on me. I don’t want you, and I will never want you. You see this band on my finger?” I point to my wedding ring. “As long as I’m wearing this, I’m off-limits and I’m not going to cheat on my wife.”
“I’m sorry, Jasper.”
She lost her privilege of calling me by my first name. “You address me as Mr. Barrett from now on. Keep our relationship strictly business. If you hit on me again, your contract will be terminated immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” she says before she goes back to fixing my pants.
Once I’m in the car, I tell Chance to take me to the press conference. I don’t want to do this shit, but I have to go. This is what I wanted the entire time. My uncle’s company—I mean, my father’s. I still don’t know why my mother, Tommy, and James would keep this such a big secret. I’m still mad at them. Why did my biological father allow me to go through all the abuse? He could have gotten full custody of me, but he chose not to.
I have more questions than answers.
Once we make it to the building, I open the door to the conference room and cameras flash, blinding my vision and making my head hurt.
I step up to the podium.
Every news reporter asks me questions and I answer them one by one.
A blonde woman wearing a blue pantsuit holds out her little mike. “Where is your wife, Mr. Barrett?”
“She’s at home resting.”
“Why is that?” she asks.
“Next question.”
I’m not in the mood to speak about my wife and our marriage issues, but that’s what I wanted, right? To paint the picture of a happy couple and shove it in Tommy’s face that I won? It doesn’t feel good to gloat about my marriage, because now it’s serious to me and I’m not going to make a mockery of it like I had planned to before.
Once I’m finished with reciting my speech about how I’m going to make Wolfgang Bank the best bank in the world, I spot Atlas leaning against the wall.
What is he doing here? He hates press conferences as much as I do.
