Protecting Her Pride

by Jade Webb

  As if she can sense my tension, I feel Daphni’s hand on my arm. Looking down, I see her concerned eyes watching me.

  “I want you to trust me,” she says, her voice just above a whisper.

  And though I want to fight it, to tell her “no fucking way” and murder this asshole, I know I can’t. She needs to fight this battle, and I need to step aside. So I nod and take a step back, perching against the wall. I won’t touch him—not yet—but I also sure as hell won’t leave Daphni in a room alone with him.

  Daphni loudly clears her throat, finally prompting all the men to look up and notice her. When MacArthur sees her, a broad grin stretches up his face. He pushes away from the laptop and saunters over to her, his arms wide.

  “Nice of you to finally join us, Daphni.” His eyes flitter to look at me, not bothering to hide his disdain. “I hope you two had an enjoyable little vacation.”

  I clench my hands into fists at my sides, eager for any excuse to shove this asshole’s head through the nearest wall. But she’s asked me to trust her, so I bite the inside of my cheek and force myself to stay silent.

  Seeing that he isn’t going to get any reaction out of me, MacArthur turns his focus back to Daphni. “Anyways, let’s get you into the booth and lay down this track now.”

  Daphni shakes her head. “I’m not recording.”

  MacArthur pastes on a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his dark eyes. “Daphni …”

  “No, I’m not recording,” she repeats.

  MacArthur steps toward her. “You can record your song here and now, Daphni, or you can come back with me and record the track at my house. I remember how much you liked my recording studio.” He places his hand on her arm and the moment he does, I see Daphni’s body go rigid. I’m right behind her in a second, ready to kill this fucker. As if she can sense me behind her, Daphni spurts back to life and whips her arm out of his clutch.

  “Don’t touch me,” she says, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. I can see a ripple of energy racing through her, and while I am still ready to jump in the minute she asks me, I know that she doesn’t need me. She’s strong enough to fight this battle on her own and I need to match her strength and support her from afar.

  The smile drops off MacArthur’s face and his eyes turn into angry, dark slits. “Listen you little bitch, you record that song now or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? You’ll take me to your studio? Tell me that I need to ‘feel’ the song in order to really record it? Force my legs open and shove your hand down my pants? Push me against the couch and rape me, over and over again until I’m bleeding and numb?”

  As the words leave her mouth, I can feel all the air leave the room as five sets of stunned eyes watch. I hear Melissa at my side inhale a sharp breath and the other men in the room, who just a minute ago had been smiling and laughing, are all wearing shocked expressions. Daphni takes a step closer to MacArthur, squaring her shoulders and aiming her sharp, emerald eyes at his. “Honestly, what fucked-up thing can you do to me that you haven’t already done, MacArthur?”

  All the color drains from MacArthur’s face. He takes a nervous look over his shoulder to find the rest of his team watching him in horror.

  Taking advantage of his temporary muteness, Daphni continues, “I mean it when I say I’m not recording. Not this song, and not any other one, either. And, as your lawyer will notify you of in the next five minutes, I’ve left your label. I’m done with you. Go ruin someone else’s life.”

  Expelling a long breath, Daphni turns around. MacArthur is still looking at her, a dumbfounded expression on his face. As Daphni walks away, a shocked Melissa follows closely behind her, and the rest of the room awkwardly watches, unsure of what to do next.

  Only when Daphni walks away does MacArthur finally seem to get his voice back.

  “Fucking psychotic bitch,” he mumbles as he watches Daphni walk away.

  And while I love that Daphni had taken the high road, as my fist connects with his nose and I hear the sharp crunch of his cartilage shattering, I’m sure as hell glad that I didn’t.

  30

  Daphni

  The minute we leave the elevator and step into the garage, I fall forward, my hands on my knees. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, and my head feels light as I gulp for air. I'm dizzy and feel unsteady.

  What just happened? What did I do? Did I really throw away everything?

  As I continue to replay the last five minutes in my head, I feel everything around me start to quiver. It feels like the world is crumbling beneath my feet. My breathes begin to increase and grow more frantic as I fall forward.

  "Is she okay?" I hear Melissa's frenzied voice ask just seconds before everything quickly fades away to black and I feel myself fall into the dark abyss.

  "Look, she's opening her eyes."

  I wince as the light shines in my eyes. I blink quickly before leaving them open for a few seconds longer. In front of me, I see Melissa's and Roman's faces watching me.

  "Where am I?" I ask.

  "The parking garage," Roman answers. "You passed out for a quick minute there."

  I push myself up from the cold pavement, but Roman gently pushes me back down. "Wait a couple more minutes before getting up," he orders.

  "What happened?"

  "You hyperventilated a bit and passed out," Melissa says as she watches me with concern-filled eyes.

  "Oh," I reply, unsure of what to say.

  Melissa squeezes my hand as she sits next to me. "I'm really proud of you," she says, her voice cracking as the words spill out.

  Dropping my head to rest on her shoulder, I give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Thanks, Mel." I look over to Roman, still crouching beside me. "Did that really happen, or was it just a terribly bad dream?"

  "It happened,” he says as he watches me, concerned.

  I expel a sharp breath and squeeze my eyes closed. I don't regret it. But I'm also not an idiot. I don't know how much the fallout from this will impact my career—if I could even still have one. MacArthur wasn't called "the hitmaker and the undertaker" for no reason: he could make or break your career in mere seconds. But it was done.

  When I had met with Lawrence and Gabby on my birthday, I had asked Lawrence to help me find a way out of my contract. When he had texted me this morning that it was a done deal, I felt a ten-thousand-pound weight leave my body. Even though MacArthur would likely sue, and I would probably have to pay a ransom to the bastard, it was worth it. I was free.

  Free. The words buoy me, and I push myself up from the ground. Roman helps me back up to a standing position and I pull him and Melissa into a tight hug. I was never the most touchy-feely person in the world, and I’ve had more hugs in the past week than I’ve had in my entire life, but it feels good. It feels good to feel loved.

  I look up at Roman. "Can you take me home?"

  He nods and helps me off the ground. Melissa pulls me in for one last hug. "I'll call you later," she promises.

  She watches as Roman helps me into the car before she walks back to her own. I can see how heartbroken she is. She’s one of the few people in this world who I can count on for anything- and not just because she’s on my payroll. I hate how she looks so sad. I want to reassure her that I’ll be okay, that I am already on my path toward healing. But that can wait. I’m exhausted and all I want is to go home.

  When we arrive back to the house and pull back into the long driveway, I catch Shakira's face peeking through the front window. Gabby and Liam had dropped her off when they came back, after "babysitting" her for the night. Gabby was slowly winning a fight with Liam to adopt a dog. She didn't know that he was planning on surprising her with a puppy for Christmas.

  And when we walk in and Shakira circles our feet, her butt shaking in excitement, this house finally feels like a home. And it’s because of Roman. Because being with Roman feels like being home.

  Thankfully, all the police tape has disappeared, and when we walk inside, any tra
ce of the break-in is long gone. I make a mental note to thank Melissa as I drop my bag on the floor and lean against the wall. Roman is watching me, his intense blue eyes assessing me.

  “Take me to bed?” I ask, and he smiles at me as he kicks off the wall, walking toward me. He scoops me into his arms and I let out a squeal as he hoists me over his shoulder, carrying me up the stairs.

  “You shouldn’t be lifting heavy things!” I protest. “You could tear out your stitches!”

  “Screw the stitches. I’m taking my woman to bed,” he replies.

  “Caveman,” I mutter as he carries me up the stairs to my bed.

  Once inside my room, he lays me gently down on the plush mattress and rests over me. His eyes, still heated with passion and desire, reveal an undeniable spark of love as well. “I wish I could take away all your fears and worries.”

  “With time,” I reply. “And love.” I say, echoing the same words Roman had whispered to me back on the beach, after he had told me he had never stopped loving me.

  At my words, Roman presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You never cease to amaze me, Daphni.”

  I prop myself up on my elbows and look over at him. “Thank you for trusting me today. I know I don’t always make it easy for you, but this is something I had to do.”

  I lean down to kiss him, soft and slow at first. But when he devours my mouth with his, our kiss transforms into a frenzied kiss, full of desperation and need. And when his hands cup my cheek, I feel a hollow ache inside of me, one that I know only he can fill.

  As we deepen our kiss, I tear my shirt over my head and scramble to unbutton my shorts. Roman does the same and we quickly discard our clothes, casting them to the floor. My body is desperate, craving the feel of his skin on mine. Roman’s hand skims down the length of my body until he reaches my entrance, already slick and hot with need. He dips two fingers inside and groans against my lips. Tearing his mouth away, he drops his head to my shoulder, nipping it with his teeth.

  “God, you’re already so wet for me, Daphni,” he growls as his fingers continue to pump inside of me and his thumb brushes against my clit, pushing me closer toward the precipice.

  “Please, Roman, I need—” before I have a chance to finish, I gasp as I feel Roman thrust inside of me, his whole length entering me in one push. Fully ensheathed inside of me, Roman growls, the humming of his groan vibrating against my ear as he bites down on my shoulder. His hands pull my arms over my head, pinning me down as he continues to fuck me, sliding so deep inside of me that I can feel him hit every curve.

  He continues to thrust inside of me, his hips pressing down on me, giving my clit the perfect pressure to make me moan with every thrust. I meet his eager thrusts, rolling my own hips upward to match his pace. Digging my nails into the hard, corded muscles in his back, I lift my legs, wrapping them around him, letting him enter me even more deeply.

  My body shudders with need, so close to coming. Right when I feel my body start to seek my release, Roman lifts me off the bed and turns me over. I growl in frustration and Roman laughs, pulling me up again so my back lies flush against his chest, my knees bent. His hands rove over my body and I push back against him, wanting the hot, hard shaft I feel against my ass back inside of me.

  Roman nips on my ear and grabs my right arm, bringing it up behind me to wrap around his neck. His other hand moves to cup my breast while his hot breathe skims my ear. “Hold on, babe,” he whispers and I feel myself grow even wetter in anticipation.

  Behind me, Roman grips his hard shaft and angles it toward me. He teases me, not giving me what I want: which is him inside me — and now. His other hand moves down toward the slick heat between my legs. His fingers press down on my clit and he pushes inside me at the same exact moment. Overwhelmed with the sensations, I shout out his name once he’s fully inside me. With a loud grunt that, coming from his lips, sounds remarkably sexy and animalistic, Roman bites down on my shoulder as he thrusts inside me, my ass smacking loudly against his thighs as he continues to mercilessly fuck me over and over again. And when his fingers deftly pinch my nipple at the same time as the fingers on his right hand roll my clit, my body shakes and I come. Hard.

  I keep my hand gripping his neck, the only thing keeping me upright, as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me. Roman’s heavy pants continue to fill the room along the familiar sound of my Lifebeat bracelet dinging as I continue to ride out my orgasm. Roman comes an instant later, growling at his own release and I feel his hard cock pulsate inside of me as he empties himself. Feeling Roman’s release inside of me almost makes me climax again. Though I’ve had an implanted IUD for years, I still insisted on using condoms with every other partner, terrified at the idea of getting pregnant and sidetracking my career.

  But like everything, being with Roman is different. I want to feel him bare inside me. I don’t feel scared at the thought of maybe carrying his child one day. Oddly, the idea excites me, which is, in itself, terrifying. How did Roman Brantley come to mean so much to me? And how could I manage to not completely fuck this up?

  31

  Roman

  I wake up in a delirious haze. I can't even remember the last time I had slept so well. Being with Daphni again has made everything feel right again. We belonged together and now that we were reunited, it was like the last seven years had never even happened. All that mattered was that she was here, with me, again.

  I quickly glance at the clock beside me as it flashes at 6:36 p.m. and my stomach loudly grumbles, alerting me that I need some food. Stretching my arms out, I find the bed empty and cold. Assuming that both Daphni and Shakira are probably downstairs, I force myself out of bed. I feel like a zombie as I splash cold water on my face to wake me up. After we had made love this afternoon, I had promptly passed out, completely depleted.

  Heading back into the bedroom to slide back into my clothes, I feel my chest tighten when I glance quickly again at the clock and see the same flashing 6:36 p.m.

  I dig into my pants and pull out my phone. It’s 7:40 p.m. Had the power gone out while I had fallen asleep?

  With that thought, a growing pit sinks to the bottom of my stomach. If the power had been out, that means the alarm system had also been off.

  Daphni.

  Where the hell is Daphni?

  Panic sets in as I dart out of the room and run down the stairs, calling out Daphni’s name as I race through all the rooms like a madman. As I search the house, I dial her cell, and my stomach fills with dread when I hear her ringtone from the purse on the couch, where she had last left it.

  When I land in the kitchen, every one of my fears is confirmed. A shattered vase, with water and roses spilling out, lies on the marble floor. Mixed within the shattered mess are drops of dark red, almost the same color as the crimson red roses. Blood.

  By the back door, Shakira softly whines. Her head is resting on the floor beside a pile of bright yellow vomit. Beside her is a bowl of diced-up meat, and as I kneel down to examine the unfamiliar bowl, I see traces of a pill casing and my stomach sinks. I force away the blinding panic and pull out my phone, immediately dialing 911 to report a break-in and kidnapping. As soon as I end the call with a promise the police are on their way, I call Melissa, who says she will be right over. I ask her to call Gabby and Lawrence on her way. I need to focus on remembering everything from the past day. I need to figure out who the hell took her. And then I’m going to kill him.

  I want to wake up from this horrible nightmare and find Daphni in my arms. I want to believe this isn’t real. I want this to be a cruel, twisted joke. But as I cradle Shakira’s head in my lap, with nothing but the silence of the empty house and Shakira’s whimpering cries, I know this isn’t a dream. This is reality. Daphni is gone.

  Melissa arrives just as the police do. Her normally calm and collected demeanor is gone: she is in full panic mode. When she runs in and finds me on the floor with Shakira, she drops down beside me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she turns me to look a
t her.

  “Promise everything will be okay, Roman? Promise me she’ll be okay.”

  The desperation in her voice mirrors what I feel inside. I need to keep believing that Daphni is safe, and that she will be coming home. I owe that much to her and I can’t abandon hope now.

  I nod and pull Melissa in for a hug, needing her strength as much as she needs mine right now.

  An officer walks over to us, crumbled on the floor with Shakira's head still resting in my lap. "Sir, is your dog okay?” she asks, concerned.

  I shake my head. “Whoever took Daphni poisoned her. Probably to keep her distracted, but there really was no need. She wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  The officer pulls a phone from her back pocket. “Listen, my brother is a vet technician. I’ll take your dog to him, see if he can help.”

  I feel a weight leave my shoulders at her words. “Thank you so much. Please, whatever he can do. I’m so grateful.”

  She nods and checks in with her supervisor. A moment later she returns. "Can you help carry her to my car outside? My brother can see her right away."

  I carefully pull Shakira into my arms and follow the detective outside. After she takes my number, she promises to check in with an update as soon as she can. I press one last kiss to Shakira's temple before watching the detective drive off. While normally I would want to be right by my baby's side, I need to focus all my attention and energy on getting Daphni back safely. The thought of her being harmed sickens me, and I’m so angry at myself for letting someone come into her home and take her while I was sleeping. When we get her back, I promise to spend my whole life making it up to her. I need her back. I can't lose her again.