“You can consult this clinic,” Dr. Walters suggests.
The muffled sound of dismayed begging enters through the closed door.
“Sir, show mercy, please,” a woman whispers, “It wasn’t me. It really wasn’t me. I didn’t do it! I was only cooking, and I didn’t go near anything else. I don’t know how the drug got into it, I swear.”
Leilani steps out of the guest room and crosses the hall. She leans against the handrail and looks downstairs. A woman in a chef uniform kneels in front of Waylen.
“I was just doing my job,” she pleads, “Please, I know nothing about the aphrodisiac. Someone framed me. Besides, there was nothing wrong with the tasting. Why would a weak old woman like me do such a thing? I’m not mad. Sir, I’ve been wronged. Show mercy, Sir.”
“You did do it, and you are crazy,” Waylen sneers in a hellish voice, “Send her to the mental health facility.”
“Sir, don’t! Sir…” the woman begs and screams as the bodyguards mercilessly drag her from the room.
Leilani shakes her head. She can’t believe that the old chef has anything to do with it. On the contrary, she thinks Leonie’s timing is a bit too convenient. Suddenly, Leilani hears a painful m.o.a.n from the next room over.
“Miss Summers, please don’t move,” a maid cautions, “You’ve got a slight tear down there. Mr. Bamford used too much force.”
“Waylen had no other choice,” Leonie says delicately, “The drug was too powerful. I wonder who did it.”
Leonie flushes, recalling the afternoon. The strangest part was that Waylen covered her head with a pillow while doing it. At one point, she almost passed out from lack of oxygen. Otherwise, she considers it all a glowing success.
A maid cleaning the hallway sees Leilani and quickly greets her by name, bowing her head respectfully.
“Leilani,” Leonie calls her from her room.
She wants Leilani to come in so she can gloat. Leilani enters the room slowly. Leonie is lying on the bed with her knees spread apart. A maid is carefully applying ointment to her most intimate region.
“Waylen did it so passionately this afternoon, it actually tore,” Leonie says with a self-satisfied smirk.
“Really?” Leilani asks expressionlessly, “Do you want me to say he did a good job?”
“He did,” Leonie says, with a casual glance at Leilani’s belly, “Why did you fight with Waylen this afternoon? Is it because of the baby? What do you think will happen when Waylen’s grandfather finds out the truth, that it’s not Waylen’s?”
“You’ll have to try harder if you want to scare me,” Leilani responds calmly.
She’s not afraid, but she knows it’s only a matter of time before the news reaches Mr. Francis Bamford. Once he learns that the baby may not be a Bamford heir, she’ll be expelled from the family. It’s better for her if she leaves Waylen first.
“If you don’t have the sense to be scared, that’s your problem. It still doesn’t change the facts of your situation,” Leonie gloats, “By the way, Waylen said he wants me to go to the hospital to get a physical check-up. If I’m pregnant, he’ll let me keep it.”
Leilani feels her blood slowly freezing in her veins.
“Congratulations,” she sneers.
Leonie props herself up against a pile of pillows. She’s wearing a transparent white satin nightgown; her hair is messy, and her cheeks are flushed. Fresh hickeys cover her neck. Leilani wishes she could look at Leonie with indifference, but the sight of the hickeys makes her feel awful. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself to keep her calm.
“Miss Summers, Mr. Bamford is coming,” a panting maid runs into the room as she announced the news.
She’s running so fast she almost knocks Leilani over. Instead of apologizing, she swears under her breath.
“Didn’t you see me?” the maid snaps, “Don’t you know that a good dog never gets in the way?”
Leilani stays standing by the door. She looks cooly at the maid and recognizes the woman as Leonie’s servant.
“I’m sorry I got in your way,” Leilani says softly, “What’s your name? Next time I see you, I’ll give way.”
Leilani’s smile is spookily lovely, and the maid stares transfixed. She has the horrible feeling that she’s just made a colossal mistake.
“Who said you should apologize?” asks Waylen’s cold voice.
Leilani’s smile instantly vanishes, but she remains silent.
“I’m asking you a question,” Waylen repeats, “Who said you should apologize.”
“I was standing by the door and accidentally got in the maid’s way. She bumped into me as she entered the room,” Leilani explains coldly, “An apology is the least I could do.”
Though she’s playing the game, her mind is preoccupied with other matters. She can’t stop thinking about Waylen making love to Leonie so violently and passionately she was injured. She thinks about Leonie’s claim that Waylen will allow her to have his child. She wants to scream when she remembers that Waylen won’t believe her explanation or accept the child she’s carrying as his own, but she knows she can’t make Waylen changed his mind. Her head feels like it’s going to explode.
“Mrs. Bamford, it was my fault,” the maid stammers, “I was careless.”
“Are you sure?” Leilani responds, “Just a minute ago; you said a good dog should never get in the way. I think it makes perfect sense.”
Leilani imbues the words “good dog” with deep significance. Before the maid has a chance to respond, Waylen gives the signal, and bodyguards barge in and begin to slap her.
“It’s a bit noisy in here for my taste,” Leilani says lightly, “Mr. Bamford, I’ll leave you alone with Miss Summers.”
Leilani smiles insidiously and gives Waylen a meaningful look. Then she turns on her feel and strides out of the room. As she walks, she can feel Waylen’s eyes burning into her slender back; even after she’s out of his sight, she can still feel his look.
“She’s determined to draw boundaries,” Waylen thinks bitterly, “The way she calls me Mr. Bamford proves that. Is she that desperate to distance herself? She only has three days left with me.”
“Waylen,” Leonie’s whispers.
Her voice is cloyingly sweet, and it draws Waylen’s attention away from Leilani. Leonie’s legs hang from the bedside. She puts her hands on her knees, uneasily. Waylen gazes down at her expressionlessly. Although he doesn’t do or say anything, he gives off a menacing vibe.
Robert clears his throat and enters the room. He approaches Leonie, and a bodyguard follows, carrying a silver tray with a glass of water and a bottle of pills.
“Miss Summers, Mr. Bamford would like you to take this,” Robert explains.
“What is it?” Leonie asks suspiciously.
“They’re contraceptive pills,” Robert explains.
“No. I won’t take them!” Leonie shouts.
She pushes the tray away, and the water spills in the bodyguard’s face. She stumbles out of bed and falls to her knees in front of Waylen.
“Waylen, I don’t want to take contraceptives,” she begs, “Let me have this child.”
“Are you sure you want to have it?” Waylen asks coldly, “I guarantee you will regret that decision.”
Waylen knows there’s no way she could be pregnant with his child—he didn’t even touch her. He watched her Leonie climb onto Leilani’s bed, but also with the aphrodisiac pumping through his veins, and he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. He was agitated by Leilani’s departure and disgusted by Leonie’s willingness to sleep with him. Instead, he allowed one of his bodyguards to have her.
“I won’t regret it,” Leonie whispers, looking up at him through her long eyelashes, “I dream of having your child. I don’t even need to be your wife. I only want to have a child.”
Waylen mulls over her words. Many women want to have their children, and many have even knelt and begged for it like Leonie. But Leilani acts like it would be a cruel punishment to bear his child.
He glances at the bodyguards, and three of them spring forward. Two of them held her down, and the other takes two pills. He squeezes her cheeks to force her to open her mouth and tosses the pills in. Then he splashes water into her mouth. He’s careless, and the water dribbles off her chin and onto her chest. He holds her nose until she’s forced to swallow the water and the pills. Then the guards release her. She lay sprawled on the floor, coughing and crying.
“Waylen, I didn’t want to take them,” she wails.
By the time she lifts her head to look at him, he’s long gone. She leaps to her feet and rushes barefoot into the bathroom. She bent over the toilet and shoved her fingers deep into her throat. Within seconds she’s gagging and vomiting into the toilet. When she finishes retching, she looks into the toilet and sees the two pills floating in the water. She sits weakly on the cold floor and smiles viciously.
The house seems to glow as if the wild storm has washed in clean. A pot of tea releases steam and a pleasant aroma in the study. Waylen frowns and plays absently with his lighter. Dr. Walters looks at Waylen and wonders what he’s thinking.
“Do you mean she wanted to take the DNA test early?” Waylen finally asks.
Dr. Walters has been explaining his check-up with Leilani, and Waylen is puzzled by her behavior.
“Yes, I told Mrs. Bamford that we’d need to extract amniotic fluid to compare against hair or cheek swabs from the parents,” Dr. Walters says, “It’s usually impossible to do before the eleventh week of pregnancy. Still, it has occasionally been successfully done as early as eight weeks.”
Waylen snaps the lighter open and ignites the flame.
“Why is she so eager?” Waylen wonders, “Is it because she doesn’t know who the father is either or because she wants to prove it’s mine?”
Waylen lazily lifts his eyes and frowns sharply.
“Anything else?” he asks.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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