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Alistair has always been sure that there could be a third, a woman that would accept us and not want me to choose. He’s apparently positive this woman could be Scarlett. She’s already my wife and she just fucked him so maybe he’s right?
“What call? You two have been talking this whole time? Since that night at Ecstasy?” I ask, my voice carrying a faint hint of jealousy. Why would he keep this from me? Did she not want to talk to me?
It doesn’t matter. She’s to be my wife in name only.
“Alistair gave me his number the morning after, he told me if I ever needed anything to call and I hadn’t taken him up on the offer until today. I thought I could go through with this arranged marriage, but then, as the minutes ticked down, I realized I couldn't.” She flashed her sparkling eyes at me, and I could see the pain reflected in them. “Desperate, I called Alistair and asked him to come get me, and told him where I was. He said he would come but then he didn’t show, and now I know why.”
“And have your feelings changed now? About this arranged marriage?” I ask, not sure why I want to know, but I can’t help myself. What are the odds that the woman whose key Alistair drew at that party would be my bride? Alistair’s horseshoe asshole strikes again. Then again, we don’t know this woman at all. Not really. Outside of the sounds she makes when cumming, the taste of her sweet pussy, and how tight she is, she’s a stranger.
My previous thoughts could still very well be true, leaving a cloud of uncertainty in my mind. Scarlett could be a spoiled rich bitch, and when she saw it was me she was marrying, she knew she’d have it even better since she knows about Alistair and me. A little blackmail to get better jewels, a credit card with no limit, who knows.
I won't stand by and let her hurt Alistair.
“Well, up until you lifted my veil, I was still in a complete panic. The whole ceremony I was planning my escape,” she confesses, and my stomach rolls that I’m going to have to hurt my Alistair by killing her. She won’t have a chance to hurt him. People die all the time on their wedding nights… right? A plane crash, drunk driver, drowning in the ocean on our honeymoon.
“But then I saw it was you and Alistair in the back and… I was at ease. At least if I had to go through with this, it was with you. Both of you.” Her gaze softens. “Men, I feel like I can trust.” She blushes deeper, and I look at her with a raised brow.
“We fucked, Scarlett. One night and you feel like you can trust us? Why?” I push.
Alistair hisses, glaring at me in warning. “Emerson.”
“No, I want to hear why she thinks after we fucked her like animals, stealing her innocence without care, that she can trust us. Are you sure you didn’t know who you were marrying and putting two and two together sweetened the pot?”
Her nostrils flare and her eyes look like they could bulge from her head. “I had no fucking clue who I was marrying. Tobin only ever told me you were Antonio Rossi’s son, and you were at least a decade older than me. That’s it. I’m not the villain or a monster in this story, Emerson. You can try to spin it however you want, but believe me, I’d much rather be heading off to Carrington College as planned instead of being forced into this situation. No offense.”
“So then, why trust us?”
“I don’t fucking know! I can’t explain it, it’s just a feeling I have, and well… I kinda don’t have a choice in the matter now,” she sighs, leaning forward more in her seat.
“Explain.”
“This isn’t how I planned for today to go. Actually, I never planned to tell my husband. The irony of this situation is not lost on me.” She’s nervously rambling, and I’m getting annoyed.
“Spit it out,” I growl.
“Knock it off,” Alistair scolds before reaching up and wrapping an arm around Scarlett. “It’s okay, Cupcake. Just tell us, no matter what we’re here. I’m here.”
She looks around the limo briefly, like she’s making sure there are no stowaways and it’s just us. “Can the driver hear us?” She bites her bottom lip, looking at Alistair, and he shakes his head no. “You guys are mafia, right? The Rossi Mafia. That means you protect your own, no matter what? That family comes before all else.”
“Yes. Not sure how that’s relevant. Are you in trouble and in need of protection?” Alistair grabs her chin and forces her to look at him.
She swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “We got more than we bargained for that night at the party.”
“Ha!” I laugh. “I’d say so. I ended up with a wife.”
Her eyes dart back to me, and they darken before her lip curls. “You also ended up a fucking dad, asshole.” She looks at Alistair, and her eyes soften. “Or you did. I’m just not sure which.”
My stomach plummets, and I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. What the fuck did she just say? She’s pregnant? The limo falls silent as we contemplate the possibility that one of us could be a father. How? Fuck! How did we go from one bomb to a second?
This takes killing her off the table. I won’t murder the mother of my child like my father did. Any child of mine will know what it’s like to be truly loved.
But what if this is a sham? A scheme her or her uncle cooked up?
“How do you know it’s one of us?” I shift my gaze nervously between her eyes, desperately searching for any signs of deception.
Alistair is frozen, his mouth gaping and his complexion is ghostly pale.
“Well, since I’m pretty sure we’re all on the same page, that there was no one before you. And then there’s the fact that Tobin never lets me out of the house. Let alone with anyone of the opposite sex. I’d say there’s a fifty percent chance you’re the father.” Her lip curls, and I know she’s offended I would even ask
