His little secret, my sweet sin

CHAPTER 11

~Christopher’s POV~

“I knew it was you, b***h,” Her voice sliced through the air, sharp and raw. All that rage, all that bile, this woman was different, different from the woman I once knew, the woman I still…

No. Stop it. I mentally commanded myself.

Calista’s eyes narrowed into slits, her entire face turning red, “What are you talking about, you crazy woman?” She spat back in disdain.

Crazy sexy. I bit myself hard enough that I tasted blood.

“Don’t play dumb,” Maryjane retorted, her voice trembling with fury. “I saw the shoes. The red bottoms. Under the desk. While he…” She trailed off, her gaze flicking to me, a gaze I maintained, the hurt and disgust very much evident in her eyes. “While he did that to me”.

A part of me, the part of me that just wanted to watch things burn to ash around me loved this chaos. But another part felt a pang of something likened to guilt. Her eyes, although weary, were still entrapping. I wanted to reach out, to pull her close, to pull her close… To tell her….

Don’t be ridiculous. I berated myself.

“You’re beyond horrible, Calista.” Maryjane continued, her voice dripping with scorn. “Hiding under a desk like a coward, watching your friend get humiliated like…like that. After everything we've been through, after all those years of friendship”.

“Everything you've been through,” Calista corrected. “Don’t pretend we were ever friends”.

“What was she willing to give you that I didn't”. Maryjane asked, her gaze shifting to me as I rolled my eyes. “What did she offer you that made you choose her?” She yelled.

“I gave him what you couldn't b***h, a future, a child”. Calista scoffed, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

“Is it the s*x? Was she better at it?” I could hear the raw, desperate edge in her voice.

I ignored her completely because let's face it, what answer could I possibly give to quell this anger? It sure wasn't the s*x because standing there, I could visualize the number of beds we’d broken riding to climax while the bed rocked with our passion.

Damn it, Maryjane. I bit my lips, my jaw clenching. Why do you have to make this so difficult?

“I thought there was hope for us,” She addressed Calista. “For this friendship… I was wrong”. Calista glared at her like she was the most horrible-looking puppet, “That's done now, I hate you, Calista. I will never forgive you”.

“Nobody wants your forgiveness”. Calista thundered back as Maryjane turned to walk away, her shoulders slumped, her drink clutched tightly in her hand.

The minute Maryjane was out of sight, Calista turned to me, her eyes blazing. “How dare you?” She hissed, “Who the f**k were you with?”

"I owe you no explanation, Calista," I said, my voice nonchalant as I strolled to the in-house bar to grab myself a drink. "No explanation?" she shrieked, her voice rising. "I'm carrying your child! I deserve to know! Was she better than me? Is that it?"

I laughed so hard. The sheer stupidity of this woman. To think that she deserved an explanation because she was pregnant with my child. “Answer me!” she yelled, cutting through my thoughts.

“Let me remind you, this is a marriage of convenience, you are here in these clothes I got you, in my house, eating my food…” I moved closer to her, staring her straight in the eyes. “….because I willed it so”. I told her, watching her gulp in fear.

“You are here 'cause I can't have the press thinking I'm not man enough to handle my home,” I barked, and she flinched. “Recognize your lane and f*****g stay in it!”

"You're just a vessel, a pouch for my heir," I said coldly, enjoying the way her face contorted with rage. "You seem to have forgotten your place."

"You bastard!" she screamed, her voice trembling. "You think you can just cheat on me like this? After everything?"

"After everything what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "You think you're special? You think you're worth anything? I can do whatever I want. You dish it out, but you can't take it, can you?"

"You think this is funny?" she spat, her eyes flashing. "You think this is a game?"

"Yes, it is," I shrugged, my eyes cold and hard. "It's always a game and guess what? I always win."

"Who was she, Christopher?" Calista asked, her voice tight. "Was she someone I know?"

"Does it matter?" I asked, a cruel smile spreading across my face.

"You're not in a position to demand answers, Calista and I'll have you know that if you lose this baby, you will be as good as useless to me”. She reclined to the sofa behind her probably realizing how her screaming could put her at risk of losing the baby.

"You're disgusting," she hissed, I could taste the venom, the hatred and it tasted like f*****g candy to me. "You're a monster."

"And you're a fool,” I blew back hot, my voice flat. "A fool who thinks she can control me.”

As Calista kept cursing at me I tuned her out, my mind drifting to MaryJane. I wondered what she was doing, if she was crying, if she was thinking about me. If she still loved me. If she was nose-deep in her books running away from pain. I still loved how she bobbed her head and sucked on her lower lips when she was sad or angry, how tears would roll down her cheeks.

The sound of the doorbell snapped me back to reality. One of the maids rushed to answer it, returning a moment later with a large bouquet of tulip flowers.

"For Mrs. Lopez," the maid announced, her voice slightly marred with confusion.

Calista's eyes lit up as she rolled off the chair. "Oh, they must be for me," she said, rushing forward.

The maid stepped back, her expression apologetic. "No I'm sorry, ma'am," she said. "They're addressed to Mrs. MaryJane Lopez."

Calista stood there stupefied, her face a blend of both shock and anger. I felt a flicker of surprise, my inner fluids boiling up to my throat.

Who sent her flowers?