I'm Having a Royal Baby {ORIGINAL VERSION; BOOK 2}

Chapter 19: Self-hate

Chapter 19: Self-hate

Shadé

I always thought that cleaning for Vincent was uncomfortable because I always felt his eyes undressing me with an unquenchable hunger. But now, as I'm finishing up organizing his room, I can feel that he's more so spectating me, as if he's watching my every move ever so carefully.

I turned around and my conscience was right, he was watching me. He was sitting on a recliner love seat, observing me intently. His knuckles were pressed firmly beneath his solid jawline and his piercing eyes were fixated on my face.

"What," I said agitatedly.

"Nothing, just observing. Is it a sin to look," he said mockingly as he rose from his seat.

I crossed my arms across my chest and glowered. "I never said it was. My job here is done, may I go now," I asked, ensuring that I only intended on doing my job as a maid.

He slightly tilted his head to the side, a confused look washed over his visage. "No, your job isn't done. We really have to talk," he said, his tone change from that of amusement to sobriety.

"In that case, my job here really is done," I said as I began picking up my cleaning tools.

"Ok, how about this; why are you and Melanie so... close all of a sudden," he asked as he rested his shoulder against the door. I'm assuming that's his way of saying I won't be getting out of here anytime soon.

"I don't know, we just get along well with one another. She's a really nice girl," I said dismissively. I stood up to his leaning, large frame and stared at him expectantly.

"I am not moving, if that's what you're thinking," he said nonchalantly.

"You bastard," I said under my breath. I turn around, heading for the love seat he was once seated on, but, he abruptly pulls me by my waist and against his chest. My basket of cleaning utensils sprawls all over the floor.

My back is to his chest and his hands are encircled around my small bump of a stomach. For some reason, I feel that familiar, comforting feeling that I used to feel when we had our nights together. But, that is in the past.

"You smell like coconut and bleach," he says smoothly into my ear as he buries his head into the crook of my neck.

"Vincent, I will bite the shit out of you if you don't let me go," I threatened. It wasn't an empty threat, I'd really do it.

All of a sudden, I feel light kisses traveling up my neck. I jerk in his arms as his hands begin caressing my stomach.

"We can have our own little family, but you refuse to tell me anything about our baby. Why is that," he asks between each kiss.

I nearly moaned against his touch, until I realized who it was making me feel this way.

I reached for one of his hands, placed my hand over his, and brought his callous palm up chest. He reacts by squeezing my breast gently, almost bringing me to the urge to moan. Just a little further...and...

"Shit," he wails in agony as he releases his hold on me.

The taste of skin stains my tongue. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and watch as he blows on the bite mark on his hand.

"Why did you do that," he asked in a hurt tone.

"You almost took me against my will! I had to defend myself someway," I retorted angrily.

"Oh, bullocks. It isn't rape if you like it," he replied smartly.

"Oh believe me, I didn't. I have to go now, it's getting late," I said, collecting my cleaning products from the marbled floor.

There was a small silence between us before he broke it with his next words.

"You really dislike me that much," he asked solemnly.

I turn my head in his direction and is taken aback by the lifeless appeal in his eyes. "Vincent?"

"Yes," he answers without looking at me.

"Never mind," I mumbled turning back to my task at hand. I rise to my feet, preparing to leave until he speaks up.

"Can you at least tell me if there is anything wrong with our baby? You can't hide it from me forever," he said as he rose from his position on the floor.

"There's nothing wrong with my baby. How about you just forget that we conceived a baby and focus on your initial family," I suggest before walking out of his room.

He has some nerve.

__________

Vincent

"I can't just forget, I love you too much to forget," I sighed as I leaned my head against the wall. I know she didn't hear me, but I wish she had. I never had this heartbreaking feeling of someone not loving me back, this was so foreign to me. Love, itself was not foreign, but rejection, this was something new.

I stayed there with my eyes closed and my head tilted upward while pressed against the wall.

I really messed up... big time.

"Fuck it, I'm going to bed," I said to myself. I pushed myself off of the wall and grabbed a clean towel from my towel rack.

As I bathed, all I could think about is what will happen to Shadé if Melanie and my parents were to find out the truth. They'd kill her, no, I don't believe they're that harsh. Perhaps send her to prison, no, no, she's pregnant, they wouldn't do that! It scared me even more because I couldn't anticipate what my parents would do if they found out.

Suddenly, I felt a burst of anger boil inside me. My heart sped up and my face reddened. I turn the shower's sparkling nob to cold water and splashed my face with the freezing liquid multiple times. The water stung and sent cold chills down my back, but it didn't help.

"Fuck," I exclaimed.

I wrapped my towel hurriedly around my waist and stared at my face in the mirror.

"You're so pathetic, Vincent. Look what the hell you've gotten yourself into."

"No," I shook my head vigorously.

"You knew you were engaged. Why the hell would you go around sleeping with a maid?"

I punched the mirror numerous times until it finally cracked in its entirety. Thick globs of blood spilled from my hand freely. All I could do is stare at my hand emotionlessly.

I backed up against the wall and slid to the tiles of the bathroom floor. Thick pieces of glass pierced my feet, but I ignored the painful feeling. The pain my body felt couldn't amount to the arduous feeling I mentally felt.

I was losing a lot of blood; I could feel it. My breathing was becoming less frequent and deeper. My heart beat sped up in an attempt to pump blood to the rest of my body.

I faintly heard my name being called, but I couldn't reply, I was much too weak for words to escape my mouth. As my vision rapidly blurred and my conscience began to fade, I heard the piercing cry of a woman.