by Imani King
“Everyone is beneath me!” my mother shouted into the phone. “You, your father—every single one of you is less than me, and if I could I’d strip all that precious money from you, I would do it in a heartbeat. You don’t deserve a single red cent! You won’t be getting your hands on this company. It’s time for you to come to terms with that.”
I smiled. She was practically foaming at the mouth. For my own benefit, I rolled my finger in the air as she stammered on, her rage making her words clumsy.
“Are you quite done?” I asked calmly, though I could feel my hands shaking. “Because I have important business to attend to, and you’re completely ruining my day.”
I tossed a small SD memory card onto the table between us.
“I know what you did.”
My mother stared at the card, then glanced back up to me with a questioning look.
“You blackmailed Gigi. You used her family against her and you took my wife away from me in the process… And all for what? A bigger slice of the pie?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and anything Gigi is telling you is a lie,” My mother said, her voice lowering to an angry growl.
“Oh, I haven’t even talked to Gigi. I wanted to hear what happened straight from the horse’s mouth,” I said, smiling even wider. “Thankfully, you value your home security almost as much as I do. I must say, the video was enlightening.”
My mother looked down at the SD memory card, snatching it off the table and bending it in half before dropping it to the ground and smashing it with the heel of her shoe.
“It’s fine, mother, I have copies.”
“I was trying to protect you Dorian,” she said, taking on a softer tone.
“Don’t try to sugar coat this. You threatened her father. You threatened our unborn child. You didn’t do this for me. You didn this because you can’t control me. You did this because you want this company and my father’s legacy all to yourself. Why the hell couldn’t you leave me alone? Why couldn’t you let me be happy?”
Her face was flushing with anger. “You’ve done nothing but squander our fortune for years. What makes you think you’re fit to run this company? You think some sham marriage is going to change that? She’s going to drag you down and take our family name straight into the gutter. You don’t even know if she’s met the terms of your inheritance yet. If she’s pregnant with a girl, you don’t have enough time to have a second child.”
“I won’t need to. You’re going to sign over the voting shares you control. Grandfather left you in control of my inheritance in the event I failed to produce an heir and a wife. I’m cutting out the middle-man on this. You’re going to sign over my fortune. I’ll have Ollie draw up all the legal documents,” I replied with a smirk.
“That will not happen!” she shouted.
“You’re wrong on so many counts, mother. I might have jumped into this marriage looking for an easy ticket to my inheritance, but I found something along the way… I found my purpose.” I replied, holding her gaze. “I’m going to bring this company back around to the right path. I’m going to raise my children the right way. I may not have married for all the right reasons, but I’m not going to make that mistake the second time around. I love this woman. If you’re not willing to accept that, you can get the hell out of my life.”
Her lips pursed shut, her body tense. “You can’t do this.”
“I already have, mother. If you so much as try to stand in my way, I’ll release your little video to the press and the police. I’m sure they’ll be interested in hearing about how you blackmailed the wife of a billionaire. You’re not the only one who can throw their weight around in a courthouse, mother.”
“It won’t last,” my mother said, her eyes filled with venom. “It didn’t work for your father and I, and it won’t work for you. Love never lasts.”
She didn’t say another word as I stood up and left her at the table, but her final words echoed in my mind even as I stepped out into the daylight and headed for my car.
The longer I thought about it, the more I realize I had never once heard my parents say a loving word to one another. No kisses, no “I love you’s,” and certainly no anniversary celebrations. In fact, my parents had hated one another for as long as I could remember.
It finally made sense to me that my mother and father didn’t marry out of love—they married purely out of convenience. Whether my grandfather had imposed the same draconian demands for my father’s inheritance of the company was completely unknown to me, but something told me that love had never been a part of the equation.
Wasn’t it like that for me and Gigi, though? Didn’t our entire sham of a marriage start out with the two of us being in the right place at the right time, all the for the sake of getting ourselves filthy rich?
No. Despite how everything began, I knew that our relationship was something different than the one that my parents had. We’d at least had the chance at love. Was there any hope for that love now? Any possibility at all that maybe I could find her and convince her to give me another chance?
I thought about our child, about how scared I was that she would be raising it alone, now that she thought that the two of us were separated. My heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t blame her for her decision in the face of my mother’s evil threats, but I felt so much pain at the idea of losing something I wanted to share with her.
I had to go to her. I had to win her back… But where would I even start?
I wracked my aching brain for any clue of what I could do to get her to sit down and talk to me for even a minute… To have enough time to convince her that it was going to be ok.
It hit me like a ton of bricks: the perfect place to get Gigi alone—or at least, sort of alone.
I grabbed at my phone, staring at the date and time.
I still had a chance. Our ultrasound appointment for the baby wasn’t for at least another day.
I could be the man she deserved. I could commit to her the way she needed me to, and deep down, I knew that I could trust her. I should have never been upset with her in the first place. I’d been so blind to my mother’s little game. Gigi wasn’t the kind of person to do anything without a good reason—in that regard, the two of us were complete opposites, and that gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, she still thought that the two of us could work.
I could fix this. I just knew it.
I suppose I was thankful for not breaking the lease on my apartment when I’d moved in with Dorian. If it weren’t for that, I might have been forced to live out of a hotel for the last two weeks. The trust Dorian’s mother had set up was ready to deposit my first monthly payment into my bank account in a few days, but in the meantime I was stuck here.
Not that it was all bad…
Everything was almost exactly as I’d left it, minus a few personal effects that I was dead set on not recovering from the penthouse. As far as I was concerned, I’d lost all of it in a fire—burnt away and never seen again.
Still… As I looked around at the tiny apartment I’d called home for a few years now, it wasn’t relief or thankfulness that filled me—it was loneliness. I’d never felt so alone in my entire life.
I sighed and closed my eyes, resting my hand over my womb. Inside of there was the only piece of me and Dorian’s relationship that would actually last the test of time. It was my only companion as I began a life far away from the man I almost spent my life with…
Somewhere inside of me, I knew his mother had been right, that Dorian would have the time of his life now that he had everything he ever wanted. He would go find Harmony or some other bimbo to mother his child, and that would bring him his money, his freedom, and all the meaningless sex he could ever want. I had been nothing to him except the means to an end, and that was something I vowed never to be for anyone ever again.
To make matters worse, it seemed that Mrs. Lambert wasn’t entirely done tormenting me. The day after I’d made my little deal with the devi
l, I was promptly fired from Walters, Manning & Carlyle without any warning.
Of course, I wasn’t overly concerned about my current unemployment—after all, I had plenty of money to fall back on. No, my only concern at that moment was the future of me and my unborn child—and whether Dorian wanted to ever be a part of that life was up to him.
I picked up my phone and swiped over to Dorian’s contact listing. Looking at the number of missed calls and texts gave me a bitter taste in my mouth, though I couldn’t tell whether it was from sadness or anger. I couldn’t stop thinking of the things he’d said to me in his penthouse. Rather than read the messages or listen to the voicemails, I swiped across his name and deleted his contact.
My mother was right... His voice echoed in my head, bringing a fresh set of tears to my eyes. If only he knew how much he had hurt me.
I shook my head and stowed my phone back in my purse. It was almost time for my ultrasound, but first, I had some business to attend to.
Starling & Sons Bank was one of the best investment banking firms in the country, and I knew that if I was going to handle the trusts for myself and my baby, I would need a little help.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Devereaux,” one of the bank’s managers said, walking up to where I’d been seated to wait. “My name is Charles. I understand you’re wanting to start up a new college fund with us today.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I said, standing up and taking the manager’s proffered hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m a little new to this.”
“That’s quite all right, Ms. Devereaux, we’re more than happy to help you along the way with whatever you need. If you’ll just come with me, we’ll step into my office and get you started.”
The two of us went into a gorgeous little office just off the bank lobby with swanky hardwood furniture and dark red carpet. I liked the sense of class it added to everything, as though saying “we know what to do with your money.”
“Now, let me just set this all up for you, and we can start talking about how much you’d like to invest. What’s the last name of the recipient?”
“Lambert,” I said, sitting myself down in an overstuffed chair in front of his deck. “I haven’t picked a first name for the baby yet—I have my first ultrasound today.”
Charles smiled. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” I said, returning his smile with a faint one of my own as he started to type in a few strokes on his keyboard. I cast my gaze down at my knees, doing my best not to meet his eyes. I knew I shouldn’t be ashamed, but the stigma of being a single parent still hung on my shoulder—especially being a single mother. Men got a clap on the back, women got the shame.
“Okay, just a few more details and we can start talking about…”
Charles stopped mid-sentence, frowning and tapping a few keys. His brows knitted together as he scrutinized something on the computer screen. I didn’t like the look on his face one bit.
I touched my stomach defensively. “Is something the matter?”
“No—well, I’m not sure. There already seems to be a fund open for a baby Lambert. Opened by Dorian E. Lambert… for quite a sizeable amount… Over one million dollars.”
I sat there in the overly comfy chair, my eyebrows raised and my hands clutching onto the armrests. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, my throat tight. Dorian had actually set something up for the baby?
I dug my phone out of my purse, hoping that maybe he’d sent me another text or even tried to call, but all I found was a text reminder from my doctor about my appointment. Why didn’t I take the time to read his texts? Why didn’t I listen to his voicemails?
But then, a darker thought crossed my mind. How did Dorian get the money to create an account for the baby? His own trust fund was limited in what he could withdraw. Paying off my student loans had tapped almost his entire allotment for the year. If he had access to the money, that could only mean one thing…
He’d produced an heir without me…
Was that even possible? Could he have been seeing someone else on the side, hedging his bets? Was Harmony carrying a little Lambert of her own? The thought boiled my blood.
Charles made an uncomfortable sound in his throat and I sighed. There wasn’t a point in even being here if Dorian had already set up an account.
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Charles. Clearly, my child’s father didn’t bother to inform me of his intentions. I’ll be going.”
“I apologize for the mix-up, Ms. Devereaux. Is there anything else we can help you with today?” he asked, though I could tell her didn’t much like having his time wasted.
“No, thank you for your time,” I said and showed myself out.
The entire drive over to my doctor’s office I checked my phone, so much that I started to feel almost a little obsessive. Dorian had attempted to call or text dozens of times over the last few days, but now, there was absolutely no contact. Was this some kind of game? I’d worked myself up so much that by the time I was at the parking lot for the doctor, I made the decision that when I was done here I’d go over to his penthouse and give him a piece of my mind.
The lobby was all but empty except for a young pregnant woman and what I could only assume was her husband. I felt a bitterness rising inside me as I watched them, smiling at one another so warmly. I almost want to cry right there.
I managed to draw my eyes away from the happy couple and walk over to the front desk. I envied those two more than I’d ever admit, wishing that just one more time I could see the father of my unborn child. The young woman behind the desk looked up at me and gave a practiced smile.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes, Georgia Devereaux for three o’clock. I’m having an ultrasound.”
The young woman looked over a small appointment book. “I have an appointment for a Georgia Lambert…” she said quietly, glancing at my finger and the indent where my wedding band used to be.
“We’re separated,” I said quickly.
She nodded, her smile turning into a bit of a look of confusion.
“The doctor is waiting for you now, Ms….. Devereaux,” she said, pressing a button on her desk that opened an automatic door. “He asked me to send you back as soon as you arrived. I’ll call to the exam room and tell him you’re here.”
“I—thank you,” I said, glancing over at the married couple who seemed more than a little annoyed that I’d apparently cut right in front of them.
“Room four, please,” the medical assistant called, waving me on.
My gut told me that there was something strange going on, but for the life of me, I couldn’t put my finger on it. My stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots as I came up to the door to exam room four, which was shut tight. I almost felt like something horrible was waiting for me just beyond.
Before I could reach the handle, it pulled back of its own accord, and as the door opened wide, I laid eyes on a man I almost thought I’d never see again
“Dorian?” I gasped, looking up into his smiling face. “Oh, my God…”
“Yeah,” he said, “It’s me.”
“You dick!” I yelled, smacking him right across his face. “All of those things you said to me! You called me a golddigger, Dorian! You were drunk!”
“I know!” he said, holding his arms up over his face for protection as I started to swat at him with my purse. “I’m sorry! Can we just—ow! Jesus, Gigi, can we just step inside? Please!”
I glared up at him for a second before pushing him aside and entering the exam room, all at once having my senses assaulted by the colorful blooms and fragrant aromas of countless flowers all around the exam table. I wasn’t sure what to do. My chest starting to heave as a wave of emotions all crashed over me at once.
“Dorian, are all of these for me?”
“Is it too much?” he asked, closing the door behind me. It took me a moment to notice that the doctor was standing right by the exam tabl
e.
“I—but I thought—”
“I wasn’t thinking straight. I was drinking,” he said, but then sighed and shook his head. “No, that’s not an excuse. I was insecure and stupid. I should have seen straight through my mother’s games, but I didn’t. I let her manipulate her, and I tried to hide from the truth.”
“I can’t do this Dorian. I just can’t,” I whispered.
“You can, Gigi. I know what my mother did to you. You don’t have to worry anymore. I took care of it, and she will never threaten your family again.”
“You’re damn right she wont,” I muttered. I’d already made the decision that Mrs. Lambert had pushed me as far as she ever would.