What Loving You Cost Me

Chapter 8- Enjoy Yourself, Brother

Elizabeth’s POV

I went to the hospital right after Daniel left for work. I had begged Victor to keep it between us and thankfully the doctor confirmed the baby was safe.

The doctor said I was lucky, I had no damage just bruises.

Lucky.I didn't feel lucky.

Now sitting across from Victor at the breakfast table the silence was broken by his phone ringing.

I knew it was him. Victor didn't even have to say the name. I sat perfectly still while I listened.

"She's fine, sir," he said. "She's currently at breakfast. Looks okay. A little quiet, but okay."

Victor hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

When the call ended I couldn't help myself.

"Does he ask about me?" I whispered while I picked at my food.

Victor hesitated. Then he nodded. "Yes. Every day."

The words sent a strange shiver through me. It didn't change what he had done and it didn't erase the bruise on my arm but it was a surprise.

Shortly after a text popped up on my phone.

Hayley: Coming back tonight! Miss you already. Let's do something tomorrow.

I smiled at the screen. At least someone was happy to see me.

Then it buzzed again. A number I didn't recognize.

Unknown : Hey, it's Marcus. From the gala. Hope this isn't too forward. Just wanted to make sure you're okay.

I stared at the message for a long time.

He called before I could respond.

"How are you?" he asked. His voice was warm.

"I'm okay," I said. It wasn't true, but he didn't need to know that.

Talking to Marcus was different. He was kind, and he actually listened.

Before we hung up, he asked, "Can I take you to lunch sometime?"

"I have to think about it." I hesitated, being with Daniel for so long had stunted me; I didn't actually know how other men behaved.

"Take your time," he said. "No pressure."

I said goodbye and set my phone down.

I spent the afternoon alone in my room with a notebook, writing down the dreams I had kept locked away.

I was slowly standing up for myself. Daniel couldn't force me to do things anymore because I held the one thing he valued more than me: his business. If I told Hayley the truth, his precious empire would crumble, and we both knew it.

So what did I want?

College was on hold because of the pregnancy. But I still had Daniel to deal with. I wasn't free. Not really.

But I loved cooking, especially baking.Maybe I could bake from home and sell online.

Hayley had millions of followers. If she posted about my business, people would notice. I could bake for kids' birthdays and even for events.

I wrote it all down, losing track of time until the sun went down.

I didn't cook dinner.

I just heated up leftover mac and cheese and ate it at the kitchen counter alone. I knew Daniel hated leftovers, he never ate them. But I wasn't going to cook something new for a man who pushed me to the floor and walked away.

The front door opened around eight.

Daniel walked in, saw me eating mac and cheese from a bowl, and didn't say a word. He just went straight upstairs.

He was pissed and I didn't care.

A few minutes later, he came back down, his voice gritted and low.

"Where is dinner?"

"I didn't cook," I said softly, keeping my voice steady so I wouldn't provoke him. "There are leftovers."

"You know I don't eat leftovers," he snapped.

"I couldn't cook, Daniel," I replied, looking him in the eye. "I suffered severe pain from last night’s accident."

His face went still.

I stood up, took my bowl to the sink,I excused myself and walked out the kitchen with a satisfied smile.

I was shocked he didn't scold me or yell, but the reminder of what he’d done seemed to have silenced him.

In the middle of the night, I woke up realizing I’d forgotten my vitamins. I crept downstairs into the dark kitchen, refusing to flip the lights. Suddenly, I heard a movement. A shadow shifted near the counter. My heart hammered against my ribs—it was only Daniel and me in the house, and he should have been asleep.

I grabbed a heavy vase from the hallway and moved slowly.

When I saw the figure leaning over the stove, I swung, catching him on the side of the head.

"Who the hell are you?" I moved to the light switch and flipped it.

Daniel let out a low growl, cussing under his breath as he clutched his head. In his other hand, he was holding a silver spoon. On the stove sat the saucepan of cold mac and cheese.

He looked caught. Guilt and embarrassment flashed across his face as he stared at the spoon, then at me.

My lips curved into a smile. I clutched my chest, pretending to catch my breath while amusement bubbled up inside me.

"Oh," I said, my eyebrows raised. "I thought I heard rats."

Daniel’s eyes darted from the spoon to the pan, then back to my face. He looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He couldn't say a single word.

"I’ll just take my water and leave," I joked, grabbing a bottle from the fridge. I paused at the doorway and looked back at the billionaire standing over a pot of leftovers in the dark.

"Enjoy yourself, brother."

The moment I was out of his sight and back in the hallway, I let out a muffled laugh. Who would have thought the day would come where Daniel Lancaster would eat leftovers?

The next morning, I came downstairs before the sun was fully up. My body was still sore from the fall, a dull ache that reminded me with every step of what Daniel had done, but I didn't let it stop me. I made myself a plate of eggs and toast, poured a glass of orange juice, and sat at the kitchen table like I belonged there.

I didn't make him anything. Not a single plate and not a single cup of coffee.

I ate in silence and watched the light creep through the windows. For once, the house didn't feel like a prison. It just felt quiet.

Then I heard his footsteps on the stairs.

I kept my eyes on my plate and didn't look up when he walked into the kitchen. I didn't acknowledge him at all.

He stopped. I could feel him standing there, staring at the empty counter where his breakfast should have been. The silence stretched so long that I thought he might just leave.

He didn't.

"What is this?" His voice was low and dangerous.

I said nothing.

"I asked you a question, Elizabeth."

I took another bite of my eggs.

His footsteps crossed the room in seconds, and his hand closed around my wrist hard enough to yank me up from the chair. I gasped as my hip hit the edge of the table.

"What has gotten into you, Elizabeth?" he snapped.

I still didn't speak. I just looked at him and let him see that I wasn't afraid anymore.

He let out a short, sharp laugh. "You think this is funny?"

I turned my head away because I couldn't stand to look at his face anymore.

His grip tightened on my wrist, and pain shot up my arm straight into the bruise from the night he pushed me. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

"I'm talking to you," he yelled, shaking me once so hard that my teeth clacked together. "You don't get to ignore me in this house. Not ever."

I stayed silent.

His face went dark and cold in that way that used to make me beg. "You seem to have forgotten something, Elizabeth," he said, his voice dropping to that familiar controlled tone.

"I own you. I own everything you have and everything your family has. Your mother's treatment, your brother's job, and the roof over their heads all come from me."

He leaned in closer until I could smell the coffee on his breath. "So if you've decided to disobey me, you should think very carefully about what that costs. Not just for you, but for all of them."

My arm throbbed in his grip, and a small whimper escaped before I could stop it.

Something shifted in his face, and he let go of me before stepping back.

I wrapped my hand over my wrist and cradled it against my chest. The tears were there, burning behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"What do you want me to say?" My voice cracked, but I didn't stop. "You want me to serve you after what you did?"

He said nothing.

"Have you even asked if I'm okay?" My voice rose with every word. "Have you even once asked if I'm okay or if you care? Do you even care at all, Daniel?"

"Well, go off," I said, and the bitterness spilled out of me like something I had been holding back for years. "Go off because I didn't make breakfast for you. Do whatever you want to do because I don't f*****g care anymore."

His eyes widened just slightly, like he had never heard that word come out of my mouth before. He hadn't.

"I'm not the one whose business is at stake," I added, and my voice was quiet now but steady.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Daniel stared at me for a long moment with his jaw clenching and unclenching and his hands curling into fists at his sides. Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

The front door slammed a moment later, and I stood there in the middle of the kitchen with my wrist throbbing and my heart pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears. My legs were shaking, and I had to grab the back of the chair to steady myself.

But I didn't cry and I didn't fall apart. I took a breath and then another, and then I sat back down to finish my breakfast.