Vivian
As soon as Julian’s lips pressed against my forehead, my skin crawled. Every nerve ending screamed in protest.
I wanted to violently shove him away, to scream that he had no right to touch me, but the blinding flashes trapped me.
“I am going to be the best father in the world. I promise.” His sweet word only made my stomach turn.
It was not about me. It was not even about the baby. He cared about the cameras, the news, the perfect narrative of the devoted public servant rushing to the side of his fragile, pregnant wife.
I looked past Julian’s perfectly tailored shoulder.
Damien was standing there. He looked like a god of war about to unleash hell. His massive hands were balled into fists so tight his knuckles were white. The veins in his thick neck strained against his skin.
