Violence

Chapter 113/ Levi POV

Y/N POV

My hand trembles on the door knob.

I couldn't recall the last time something or someone had made me so nervous.

I had no power here, no sway.

I was pregnant, I couldn't be as reckless as I once was.

I needed to think big picture.

I needed a plan, I had one I think.

I was just working the kinks out.

After John had left they ran a few more tests on me, making sure the child and myself were stable before releasing me.

I had some minor bleeding, but nothing that was enough to cause worry.

Two of Johns guards brought me back to our home.

Brining my hand up, I run the pads of my finger tips over my eyebrow, wiping away to sweat forming.

I hesitate for another moment before my hand wraps around the knob, turning it I push it open walking inside.

The two guards remain outside, my hand falling to my belly as I use the other hand to push it closed behind me.

It was quiet, a bit too quiet.

My eyes scan the hall, looking to my left the doors to Johns study are shut. A light glows from beneath the door.

He was in there.

Margret, the maid hand finds my arm.

"He is very angry Y/N, trashed his office in a rage. It's best you do not go to see him now."

My lips form into a hard line, exhaling.

"I need to speak with him, what he did to me was not okay."

Margret lets out a small sign. Bringing her hand up to brush some of my stray hairs back behind my ear.

"Oh hun, nothing he does is okay. Nothing about this is okay."

Her hand falls to my swollen belly.

"Is the babe okay? Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?"

Her eyes skim between my belly and my eyes, worry filling them. I was sure my face was beginning to bruise.

"No he did not hurt me."

My hand falls on top of her own to rest.

It wasn't a lie. He didn't hurt me. He punched like a bitch.

I had taken way harder hits from Levi himself in training. John was just a pissed off teenager trying to play at a mans game.

"Oh that's so good to hear. Here give me your robes. Lets get you relaxed. Your feet must be hurting. Lets get them up, I will draw you a bath."

I allow her to pull the robes from my shoulders as my eyes look back down the hall once more to Johns study.

"I appreciate it, but no bath. I would like to lay down-"

My eyes meet Margert's, her brows pinched tight as her knuckles turn white from squeezing my robes so hard.

"What?"

Turning all my attention on her, I cant help but to be curious.

"Mr. Monroe insisted on you bathing when you returned home. He wants you to soak in a warm bath, he wants you to wash away any trace of that man."

My eyes narrow, my head pulling back.

"You are joking right?"

She shakes her head, lip trembling.