Forbidden Fate

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

  I ignored the glares of servants who’d served me an undercooked bird with a dirty fork, heading to the pantry, taking deep, heaving breaths inside.

  The pantry was warm and smelled like butter and cookies.

  He was going to have a baby.

  And I was married to West.

  It hadn’t felt real until this moment. It was like I was propelled through all of it by flight or fight. In adrenaline-induced instinct. It was all a blur.

  West picking me up in…a silver car, I think, or maybe black. Walking up the steps together, or maybe he went first.

  I must have said I do…I had to have.

  Everything just piled on until I couldn’t see beneath the weight. First Grayson leaving me, then the wedding, my uncle, the pregnancy…it buried me until I couldn’t see, only struggle to breathe.

  Now it had lifted.

  And it was blinding.

  Tears welled in my eyes. “Oh my god.”

  I grasped the pantry shelf to keep from crumbling. I tried to breathe. I couldn’t. I was married to West.

  What did I do?

  I swallowed air as the door opened behind me, then shut. I spun, expecting a servant. Grayson leaned against the door, light shining through the opaque glass at his back.

  He dragged his hand up and down his sulky lower lip. “What the fuck did you do?”

  I scrambled to mask my face.

  I wouldn’t let Grayson see me like this. Falling apart. Regretting everything.

  “Did,” I said, forcing my tone steady. “It’s done.”

  It was done.

  Another wave of light-headedness.

  “I should scream,” I said, grasping for control.

  “Do it.” His eyes flashed to mine. “I’d love to give your husband another black eye.” He rubbed his lower lip harder. There was an edge to his movements, a gleam in his icy eyes; he looked out of control. “If you think I’m going to let you marry him and take my baby, you’re goddamn insane.”

  He laughed. It was cold. Scary. Filled with something dark I didn’t understand.

  His eyes flashed; then he took one step, and in the small space it had me pressing my back against the shelf. Above me flour and sugar jostled.

  “The servants can hear us,” I whispered.

  “I don’t give a shit. You’re my girl, Snitch,” he said, voice a low growl. “You’ll always be mine. No fucking ring will change that. And I don’t like fucking sharing.”

  “And I do?” I snapped. “I could have left. You could have lived happily ever after. I could have…lived. At least now we’re on equal footing. You don’t have all the power. For once, it’s mine.”

  “It’s always been yours,” he said softly, absently, but before I could even think on what that meant, his jaw hardened, and he said, “He’s not a white knight, Snitch; he’s a snake, an opportunist. He knows you don’t love him, but he knows you have no other choice. His parents are going to excommunicate him or worse. So what the fuck is he getting out of this?”

  I don’t know.

  Wouldn’t it be romantic if all he needed was me? But at least I can say I’m not that stupid anymore. West is getting something…I just don’t know what.

  He says it’s me, but even I don’t believe that.

  “Yeah. I chose to run away with the villain because my prince wanted to shove me into a tower and force me to watch him live happily ever after with someone else. At least he’s honest about it.” I shoved him off with both hands. “I need to get back to dinner. To my husband.”

  “You haven’t thought this through, little nun.”

  I haven’t.

  I was scared.

  Terrified.

  “You should worry about your wife, the one you’re trying to get pregnant.”

  “Let me explain what you heard back there. What Lottie said—”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “I backed you into a corner. Let me get you out.”

  “Get me out how, Grayson?”

  “A divorce, to start.”

  “And then what? You’ll let me leave? You’ll leave Lottie?”

  His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. I tried to shove him away, but he pinned me harder.

  “It’s going to be pretty fucking obvious when your stomach swells.” His palm glanced across my stomach, and it was like something had come over him, the look in his eyes, the way his words grated with possession.

  I hated that he was right. My heart jumped into my throat. Because, oh my god. How do I take back that decision? It seemed like my only choice in the moment. I can’t believe I did that.

  I’ve never hated myself more than now.

  I’m choked with it.

  I want him to choke too.

  I swallowed, took a deep breath, and met his eyes, refusing to let him see how he affected me. I wouldn’t give him any of the power. He didn’t get to know he forced me into this.

  “You’re right. It will be pretty obvious when my stomach swells. But I wonder who they’ll think the daddy is.”

  Grayson pressed me deeper into the shelves, and above me the flour and sugar fell on us like snowflakes. I licked my lips, and his eyes dropped to them—

  The door swung open behind him.

  “Grayson.” Tansy Crowne’s voice wafted like the sweet sugar in the air. “What an interesting place to look for the restroom.”

  He didn’t move off me, eyes burning.

  It wasn’t until I elbowed him that he finally retreated. He took a step back, past his mother. Ran two shaky hands through his hair, eyes on me, then kept walking.

  I moved to follow, but Tansy gripped my bicep. “I won’t have my son caught in the pantry with his brother-in-law’s wife. You’re not a mistress anymore.” I noticed the kitchen had cleared out. There were no souls; the flour hadn’t even been cleaned off the counters.

  I took Tansy’s hand off my arm, looking her in the eyes. “I never was.”

  After dinner finished, we all gathered in the foyer. West had his arm around my waist, and Grayson’s glare hadn’t left the hand.

  “I guess this kinda makes Story your sister, huh, Lottie?” West said.

  “Sisters?” Lottie and I screeched at the same time. We glanced at one another, horror writ across both our wide eyes.

  Sisters.

  I hadn’t thought about that implication when I’d dived headfirst into the shark-infested safe haven that was her brother.

  “Think you’ll get along with your new bro, Story?” West asked, nodding his chin in Gray’s direction. My stomach somersaulted.

  “Promise you’ll be good to your new sister, Gray?”

  Grayson dragged his glare from West’s hand, to West. West grinned.

  West whispered so only I could hear. “Brother fucker.”

  I wormed my way out of his grip, and he laughed.

  “I think we’ve all had an exciting day,” Tansy Crowne said. “Maybe we should retire.”

  Lottie looked to her brother. “I guess you’re going to sleep….in the guest wing?”

  “Story can stay in Gemma’s wing,” Grayson said, voice cold. “It has the most security. West, you can stay…in one of the guest wings.”

  Grayson may as well have said, West, you can go fuck yourself.

  “Excuse me, hi.” Gemma raised a hand like she was in school. “I’m not sharing my wing with a servant just because you fucked her a few times.”

  Tansy exhaled. “Gemma…”

  Gemma shrugged.

  “I think Grayson is mistaken.” Westley grinned in my direction. “We’ll be sharing a wing and a room. She’s my wife.”

  A muscle in Grayson’s jaw twitched.

  Despite being in the foyer, Mrs. du Lac held her crystal wine glass up in the air, waiting for a servant to appear to top her off, as she’d done all through dinner.

  “Shouldn’t you grab your belongings?” Mrs. du Lac asked, words cold. I scratched the back of my head, realizing where m
y stuff was.

  “Oh. My. God.” Gemma covered her mouth, eyes bright and gleaming. “You have to grab your stuff from the servants’ quarters.” She started laughing through her fingers.

  “Gemma Antionette,” Tansy chastised, but Gemma kept laughing.

  I looked at the floor.

  I took a step.

  “What are you doing? Are you going to grab it yourself?” Mrs. du Lac managed to sound both scandalized, insulted, and delighted all at once.

  My heart pounded, absolutely frozen. Every breath was a mistake.

  “I—”

  “I’ll go,” Grayson growled.

  “Grayson.” Tansy swallowed her shocked breath.

  “She’s got, like, two shirts and a dollar-store skirt. This is fucking stupid.”

  I watched Grayson head to the servants’ quarters to the sound of his mother’s protests—to grab my shitty clothes.

  My eyes locked with Lottie’s. She exhaled, worked her jaw to the side, then looked away.

  “Are you going to grab the uniform too?” Gemma called out.

  One by one, I took the stairs to the guest wing. West had left me to “go do damage control.” It was just me in this dark hallway…and I focused on the hollow sound of my steps, trying not to think of all the times I’d taken them as a servant.

  I didn’t see him at my back until his arm wrapped around my waist.

  I stiffened at first, expecting West.

  Then I knew. I knew by his scent, his feel, just the Grayson of it all.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to worm myself out of his grip, but he tightened his arm. In his other hand he held my meager belongings.

  “You shouldn’t be taking the stairs alone. You’re pregnant—”

  “SHHH!” I shushed him, looking over my shoulder.

  His eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t know?”

  “He’s my husband. What do you think?”

  His grip tightened. West actually didn’t know, but I was so fucking pissed at Grayson. I wanted him to squirm, even if it was for a second.

  We arrived at the double doors to my new wing—West and my new wing—when Grayson spoke full volume.

  “So then I don’t need to lower my voice. No need to hide the fact that you’re pregnant.”

  My eyes grew, and I slammed a hand across his mouth.

  “No, okay?” I said. “No one fucking knows.”

  Something flickered in his eyes…possession. His lips were too soft and too warm against my palm, and the dark hallway softened us, reminding me of our nights together. I tore my hand away, but he pulled me back instantly.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to let go, when the look in his eyes froze me. It was like the night of his wedding, right before he’d had to leave me.

  “We were close, Snitch,” he said. “We were so fucking close.”

  I think my heart stopped beating.

  What did that mean?

  Behind us, the door clicked open, shedding light into the hallway. I blinked out of the moment, neck hot, and turned to find West…and Lottie.

  I swallowed past the emotions. “I thought you left.”

  Behind them, our new wing was filled with roses everywhere. They carpeted the floor in a velvety white blanket, and the air was clean and crisp.

  “You didn’t think I was going to abandon you on our first night together?” West dragged me to him, wrapping his arm around my waist. His eyes went to Grayson. “Thanks for helping my wife.”

  Grayson kept staring at me. Like he had a right to stare at me like he owned me. Even with his wife next to him.

  “Grayson,” Lottie whispered. “We should go.”

  Grayson kept staring.

  “First night as newlyweds.” West grinned.

  Grayson’s nostrils flared.

  Lottie wrapped her hands on his biceps, urging him to go back down the stairs.

  Maybe I was always supposed to be with West, and Grayson was supposed to be with Lottie. We’d taken a brief detour from destiny.

  So why did this feel wrong?

  Lottie’s hands on Grayson.

  West’s on mine.

  Like we were on the opposite sides of fate.

  His jaw was clenched so tight, the muscles dimpled. Eyes still on me, burning that way that said he owned me and didn’t give a shit if anyone noticed, Grayson shoved my clothes into my hands.

  “Good night.”

  He turned, and Lottie chased after him.

  I exhaled.

  For the first time since the courthouse, West and I were alone.

  Twenty-One

  GRAY

  * * *

  All those roses everywhere. It smelled like a fucking funeral.

  Was Story fucking West?

  She wasn’t actually going to fuck him.

  “Gray?” Lottie’s soft voice called to me as I rubbed my temples, trying to work out the problem.

  “Grayson.” Her hands landed on my shoulders, soft and searching as they trailed down my back, around my waist, coming around my hips to my cock.

  I tried to shrug her off gently. I probably should’ve known something was up when Lottie came to bed in lingerie, but I attempted to play it off, and pretend I was tired. I wasn’t…I didn’t sleep anymore.

  What the fuck was Story thinking? That should be my ring on her finger. I wanted to rip West’s head off. I didn’t for a minute buy he was in love.

  He looked too fucking smug.

  I exhaled.

  I know what she was thinking.

  It’s all my fault.

  I did this. I did this to her. To us.

  I wanted to tell her everything. She’d called me out for being a liar at the hospital, and I never wanted that to be us. I wanted the truth.

  The bloody, raw, jagged truth.

  But what was I going to say? Nothing changed. I was still married to Lottie. I still couldn’t touch her, still had to keep my distance because my grandfather still held a knife to her throat. I can’t guarantee her a happily ever after with me, and I’m not going to break any more promises. Not with Snitch.

  Lottie’s hands slid up my thigh. “Grays—”

  “Trying for a baby, Lottie?”

  Her hand froze.

  “You…you said you would give me a family.”

  “I did…” I said, measured.

  “And it will make our families happy. They needed that after everything we’ve put them through, don’t you agree?”

  I ran a hand through my blond hair. I couldn’t disagree.

  “Is the idea of having a baby with me so terrible?”

  I let out a breath. “Of course not.”

  Lottie’s hand slid between my thighs, to my dick.

  “Just pretend I’m her,” she said softly.

  “Lottie…”

  “It didn’t stop you the last time.”

  Lottie’s small fingers went for my zipper. “From down here, I bet we kind of look the same.”

  My muscles tensed, my pulse throbbing up my neck into my skull.

  Anger.

  Regret.

  Disgust.

  I gripped her chin. “Lottie…”

  I can see it in her eyes. She thinks there’s hope for us still.

  It’s not fair to her. Keeping her on the line like this. Keeping hope in her chest for a flower that’s already withered.

  Fuck.

  If she knew what I’d done.

  I wasn’t trapped in this marriage, Lottie was trapped with me.

  “You deserve so much better than this,” I said.

  “She’s fucking my brother, you know?” Lottie sat up, throwing the sheets off us with her. “That’s what they’re doing. How long are you going to pine after someone like that? She’s a gold digger, Grayson. She ruined us and she’s ruining my family. What does she have that I don’t?” she pleaded. “What does she do? You can do whatever you want to me. You can slap me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Je
sus.

  Lottie. Pure. Sweet. Kind. Lottie.

  I’m ruining her.

  I dragged a hand down the side of my face.

  I’m ruining them both.

  Sticky silence spread. She pushed her tongue into the side of her mouth, looking away, as disdain darkened her eyes.

  “Lottie, what kind of marriage would we have if this is how we had to do things?”

  Her eyes met mine, and I thought she might speak truthfully with me, but then she blinked and became calm.

  “I’m never going to stop fighting for you, for this, for us. I love you…and I have fate on my side.”

  Fate.

  Fucking fate.

  I stood off the bed. I told myself I would be a good husband. I would love my wife. She’s beautiful. Her silky rose lingerie complimented her hazelnut skin, shining even in the shadow—soft, flawless skin that I’m sure only accepted the most expensive product. Her curves are somehow both supple and toned.

  Lottie is the definition of beautiful. She’s a goddess.

  But she’s not Snitch.

  “You love her now,” she said, “but will you in five years? You loved me once, Grayson, and I think you can love me again. You just haven’t given this a chance. A real chance.” She took a step toward me, placing her palm on my cheek. “I want to take away that pain in your heart. I did once. If you’ll let me, I can do it again.”

  Something inside me fucking snapped as my wife pressed her palm to my cheek. I gripped her hand, tearing it from my flesh, but I held on to her wrist.

  “She’s not going to choose you,” Lottie whispered. “She’ll never choose you, Grayson. She chose my brother. It’s over between you. It’s finished.”

  I worked my free hand into a fist, flexing my fingers.

  I couldn’t believe it was really fucking over. But Snitch was married.

  I dropped her.

  “If you would just try.”

  Lottie wrapped her arms around my waist, and once again I had to deny her.

  “Lottie, fuck, not tonight.”

  An ugly quiet grew.

  “You know, my mom told me an interesting story earlier tonight. Your father hid Josephine during her pregnancy. No one knew a thing until after the triplets were born.” Her eyes found mine slowly. “I bet your mom knew.”