My Baby, My Strength, Our Future

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n strode into the room. He was still wearing the same custom-tailored white shirt from last night,

. One of them, a young man with slicked-back hair, was already holding up

f, tight-lipped nod to confirm our silent agreement,

moment the camera lens was pointed at him, his normally cold, c

his large, warm hands to grasp my right hand, whic

s jacket around Giana's shoulders flashed behind my eyes, triggering a wave of pure physical re

h of dark, genuine irritation sparked in his eyes, but he

ng in so close I could smell the stale rain and the faint, sweet trace of vanilla perfume on his coll

softly, stepping over to adjust the window blinds so the morning sun h

ving husband. "Darling," he said, his voice loud enough for the microphone t

er a single trace of emotion. I just looked a

eadily, capturing this grotesque

This time, he aimed for my face, intending to lovingl

ompletely. I locked eyes with him and asked, my voic

loving husband mask cracked for a fraction of a second. "You are a vic

iew of my face. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "I had to get her ou

mocking smirk curled the corner of my lips. He really th

in, checking his monitor. "This will definitely calm the b

is hands automatically moving to adjust the knot of his silk tie. The an

lled out a sleek, heavy titanium black card, and tossed it car

ne dripping with patronizing charity. "Just stay here

he sum total of ten years of my youth, my dignity, and my near-death experie

f it were contaminated. Without breaking eye contact with Holden, I flicked my wri

n with a loud, echoing crack. The PR team behind him

te disbelief warring with fury in his eyes. He clearly

is voice dropping to a freezing, lethal register.

t bothering to look back at me. "I have a bo

n bothering to waste the oxygen r

ing the suffocating, hypocritical

sixty seconds later, the brass doorkn

eap acting fo