Giving the married billionaire an heir

CHAPTER 4

REBECCA’S POV

The sound of a phone ringing startled me awake, and I groaned as my head instantly protested that decision. I squinted my eyes shut as the light in the room added to my pain and forced myself to take deep breaths. When I was sure he contents of my stomach were safe for the moment, I sat up gingerly.

My phone, the culprit of my rude awakening, was still vibrating beside me and I picked it up, mindful of my skull. It felt like I’d spent the night with someone banging a stick on my skull.

I put the phone to my ear with a groggy “Hello.”

“BECKY,” Jamie’s voice screeched. “Where are you?”

I rubbed my eyes as I took in my surroundings. It was the sight of my dress at my feet that finally jerked me awake. That, and Jamie’s whispered “Where did you sleep last night, Becky?”

The phone dropped from my hand in shock.

“BECKY!!!” I heard my Mom’s voice and I picked it back up.

“I’ll call you guys back,” I said in a hurry, hanging up and turning off my phone.

I looked down the cover on me to confirm that, Yes, I was naked.

“s**t,” I swore, my throbbing skull echoing it.

I wrapped the covers around myself and got down from the bed. I had to hold unto the bed when my thighs radiated with pain. I laughed, unsure of what I was feeling.

If not for the pain between my legs, I would have been convinced that I’d spent the night alone. I couldn’t remember anything from the previous day and there was nothing to suggest that anything had happened, except the wince that was hiding behind my smile.

I’d actually done it. I had s*x with a stranger who couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye and lost my virginity. I didn’t let the irony bother me. My parents would have a hard time explaining this. One of the conditions of the arranged marriage when I was six was that I was to be kept innocent for my husband. It was one of the reasons why I’d never been more than six feet from my bodyguards until I left college. It was their error, they’d mistaken my desperation not to be married to Vincent, or maybe they’d assumed I couldn’t do anything about it this close to the wedding.

I let out a laugh and quickly covered my mouth. I still couldn’t remember last night but I kind of hoped we hadn’t used protection. I didn’t even care which one I got, whether a pregnancy or an STD, as long as it was curable and it got the contract canceled. I was done worrying about the consequences, my parents could figure that part out.

My walk of shame eventually caught up with me when I walked out of the luxury hotel in my dress and my heels in my hand. People stared as I passed and all the satisfaction of getting my wish didn’t stop me from blushing. My cheeks darkened even more when someone asked me why I was walking funny, then high-fived her friend as they laughed.

When I walked into my parent’s house, they all stared at me. My mom burst into tears and my father’s eyes darkened. I gulped with nerves as I faced the other occupants of the room. Jamie’s eyes were wide in horror and that was the only expression I could explain. My in-laws stared at me with twisted lips and complicated expressions on their faces.

I let them look. It was my older brother who broke the silence. He hadn’t been seated; rather, he walked out from inside the house and his keys dropped as he stared at me.

“What the f**k, Beck?” He whispered and the others woke up from their shock.

I remained there as questions, accusations and insults were tossed my way. Damien made his way to me, betrayal shining in his eyes.

“What did you do, Rebecca?” He asked, ignoring what looked like a fight between my parents and Vincent’s parents. I shrugged in response, and his eyes darkened in anger. He looked more like my father in that instant and I flinched away from him.

He took a deep breath and turned his face away from mine for a second.

“Come on,” he growled, taking my wrist and dragging me back outside the house.

“Okay.” He said, “Explain yourself. Where were you last night?”

I made myself face him rather than cower. “Where do you think I was?” I asked curiously and his eyes tracked from my neck down.

He rubbed his head. “Rebecca,” he groaned. “What are you trying to do? The wedding is in three weeks.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“Why not?” He growled.

I stared at him, hurt. He might not have been one of the direct culprits to sign my life over to someone when I was a child, but I'd tried to explain over and over again. Why wouldn't any of them listen to me?

“Vincent hates me, and he scares me. I've explained this time without numbers. I can't leave my life with someone I can't trust not to kill me.”

“Rebecca,” he groaned again and I sighed, turning away. I'd rather be in the middle of the shout happening inside that get proof of just how dispensable I was.

He grabbed my hand, turning me back.

“Okay. Say I believe you. Vincent scares you, so what did you do? What did you do last night?” He covered his mouth suddenly as he looked down at my dress again. “Please tell me you didn't, Rebecca.”

“Of course I did.” I responded, just as a voice growled, “Did what?” from behind me.

I whirled around in shock, my heart beating against my chest.

My heart leaped into my throat as I turned around. Vincent stood there, his dark eyes filled with anger and disgust. He looked me up and down, his lips curling in disdain.

“What the f**k are you wearing, Rebecca?” he demanded, his voice low and menacing. I stepped back instinctively, bumping into Damien, who held me steady. I swallowed.

“I asked you a question,” he said quietly, and I forced my lips to loosen, hitting Damien's arm so he released me.

“Since you never fail to flaunt your girls around, I thought I could go have a minute of fun too.” I said with a flip of my hair, my nerves cracking when both guys only stared at me in shock.

“You don't mean it,” my brother whispered and I shrugged.

“I don't believe you,” Vincent said, then he walked inside. I followed him immediately, determined not to wince. My courage had expired for the day; no need to show him how serious I was.

“The wedding is still ongoing. She's joking. We're getting married in two weeks.” His sharp voice cut through the noise as if it were wet paper.

“But,” someone tried, but he had already gone. I gulped as eyes rested on me again.

Two weeks, I had just two weeks.