Chapter eight
That same afternoon.
Christian POV
The afternoon clouds cast a shadow over the sky, signaling rain. Possibly a storm.
Christian stood gazing out the wall-to-ceiling windows, lost in thought.
He had just finished reading a text from Mia, followed by a series of hearts and happy emojis.
His baby sister was the sunshine of his life. She'd won his heart when, at the sweet age of eight months, she was adopted into the family.
All it took was one toothless gummy smile for Christian to assign himself the role of faithful protector.
All was well until one day when Christian let his guard down. He'd been playing solo when he heard a gasp of air coming from Mia's playpen. Recognizing the baby's distress as a matter of life and death, Christian sprung to her side.
The evidence was all around her. Elliot's marbles. Picking up one of the deadly objects, he ran to find the nearest adult.
Christian didn't need to utter a word. Grace knew something was wrong the second she saw his panicked face, holding the marble up high. She then wasted no time reaching Mia and performing the abdominal thrust maneuver.
While this was happening, Christian's eyes held Mia's terrified gaze, holding his breath in unconscious solidarity until the offending marble rolled onto the floor.
"Ms. Williams is here, sir."
Christian scowled, resenting the interruption. And then he remembered he'd been waiting for her.
Caroline stepped aside, and Leila stepped forward with her head held high as if her coming into his office was a daily occurrence.
Watching his submissive set a plastic Tupperware on his desk deepened the frown on his face.
"They're your favorite... oatmeal raisin."
In response, he grumbled something under his breath.
"Don't worry, your security already put it under the x-ray machine," she quipped.
He sneered at the comment.
He didn't like any of this. For one, he was not used to Leila acting as anything other than his submissive. While her role was to please him, she was supposed to follow his directives.
Secondly, Leila's natural environment was not his office. It was either her apartment or the club. Period.
She made herself comfortable on his leather couch, setting her purse and laptop on either side of her.
"I hope you like the cookies... I made them myself. I found one of my mom's old golden recipes."
"Did you sleep well last night?"
She nodded, pleased at his interest. "Very well, thank you."
"Good. Resting well is necessary to make sound decisions. I hope you've had plenty of time to reconsider your decision."
The long silence that followed made Christian exhale impatiently.
"Well?"
"I haven't changed my mind," she replied, making direct eye contact.
Christian gritted his teeth. This was a deliberate act of defiance. Unfortunately, he was now walking a tightrope. He had much to lose and little to gain.
Under normal circumstances, he would have terminated their contract and sent her packing. But he couldn't. Not while Leila had something of his growing inside of her. She could disappear without a trace and then sue for support after the birth.
For the first time in his adult life, he was genuinely stumped.
"You have greatly disappointed me, Leila."
"Oh, Christian. I can't... I can't kill our child."
Kill?
Our child?
Her words sounded surreal.
Christian rolled his fists, his arms limp on either side of his body. It was taking a lot of self-restraint to not go ballistic.
"First of all, we aren't killing anybody here. Just a group of cells. Second of all, I don't want to become a father. I thought I made that clear enough."
Leila shook her head. "This is a child. Those cells will keep growing until a child is finally born. I am happy and excited. This child has given me a reason to live. Don't you see?"
Whatever you do, don't allow her to believe she's won this battle.
"I can't do this! Christian hissed, hyperventilating, cursing under his breath.
In an effort to put a lid on his anger, he turned toward the window and focused on watching the rain.
He needed to think with his head and not let his emotions rule the day.
There must be something he could offer her, something she wanted more than anything in the entire world.
"What do you really want, Leila?" He asked with his back to her still.
"You. I want you..." She breathed, " and our child," she quickly added. "I want us to be a family."
This was absolutely unacceptable.
"If it's me that you want, you can't have me. EVER."
He'd turned around to glare at her, and Leila flinched as though someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her face.
"Then I will keep MY child, Will be both his or her mother AND father."
A deep crease formed between Christian's furrowed brows.
"I want to remind you of the NDA you signed. You are not allowed to share my involvement in this pregnancy with anyone. You understand?"
Leila recoiled. Her eyes filled with tears.
His immediate reaction was to turn and face the windows to signal that, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.
"This will be the last time we meet. Any further communication between us shall be either through Taylor or electronically."
Although his tone was harsh, his words were not designed to inflict pain but reason.
"You're vanishing me forever like..." Leila sobbed. "I didn't realize it was a crime wanting more... wanting your baby."
For some reason, "crime" was a word he easily associated with the concept of "money'.
So then, one idea led to another. And then, another. Soon, Christian had a wonderfully awful idea: offering Leila the one currency that motivates every human under the planet no matter how hard they try to deny it.
She pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed her eyes. Then, she slowly gathered her things, finally understanding she'd been dismissed.
She was halfway out the door when he turned around and spoke again, surprising her.
"Wait."
He came around to sit beside her on the couch and put a gentle hand on her forearm.
"Let's start over, shall we?"
Her eyes met his expectantly.
"Leila, I think you're going through a tough situation. And it's making you somewhat emotional," he started tactfully. "I understand you didn't plan this..."
Of course, Christian knew she had planned this. He was trying a different tactic here.
"Having a child is a huge responsibility emotionally and financially."
"I can handle it; I know I can."
Her voice sounded small. If she were a character in a children's book, she would be perfect as The Little Engine That Could. A pitifully ambitious little thing attempting to climb the steepest of hills.
I think I can...I think I can.
"We both know you have enough trouble taking care of yourself half the time. You don't have any skills, and you don't even have any family to support you. Even though our relationship is over, I can offer you a very comfortable life. I'm talking about the luxury of early retirement and a nice mansion in Beverly Hills."
Leila's jaw dropped open.
" How does twenty million dollars sound to you?"
"Wh-what?"
"You want more? Just name your figure."
…
Gail POV
Gail watched her scurry inside the salon, seeking shelter from the rain. Even though her face was partially concealed by a full head covering, there was something familiar about her, she decided.
Aside from Gail, there was only one other person in the reception area. Gail was there waiting for Mia and Ana, who were there getting a massage and a haircut, respectively.
The receptionist was scrolling down her phone when the newcomer walked in with an expectant look about her.
"May I help you?"
"I was wondering if you have any cancellations."
The stranger did a quick survey of the place as if looking for someone.
The receptionist smiled a thin smile and regurgitated a standard response. "I'm sorry, but we don't take walk-ins."
Once again, the newcomer surveyed her surroundings, this time in greater detail. She froze when she spotted Gail sitting in a corner with a magazine on her lap as though she'd been caught with her hands in the cookie jar.
"Miss? A supervisor suddenly intervened.
The girl quickly spun her head around.
"We've had a few cancellations today because of the weather. What do you need done?"
"Just a bang trim."
"Oh. That's easy. Have you been here before? What's your name?"
The newcomer hesitated. "Christie."
"Spelling, please."
"Huh...C-H-R-I-S-T-I-E."
"Last name?"
"Smith. This is my first time here."
"Okay, let me add you in. What's your phone number?"
Gail continued to watch the woman. She was extremely young and thin. But what struck her the most was her behavior. She acted like someone who was trying not to get noticed. As luck would have it, her knit balaclava revealed part of her face as she was ushered to the seat next to Ana's.
It took Gail another minute to make the connection. Pulling out her phone, she quickly texted Taylor with her suspicions.
...
Christian POV
Listening to Taylor's account of Carla's behavior was appalling. Her open preference for her absent son and blatant disregard for her daughter's well-being was unnatural.
Further, conditional threats seemed to be an integral part of this woman's modus operandi. Consequences to others be damned, she had actually threatened to throw away her daughter's belongings, for heaven's sake.
And while he agreed Ana was better off without her mother, he wasn't convinced she needed protection from the entire family.
"I have a gut feeling there is something about her mother and father together as a unit that's borderline dangerous.
Christian exhaled heavily. His heart filled with sudden regret for welcoming Ana into his home.
"What are you saying here, Taylor? Are they capable of violence?"
"I believe they're both capable of psychological violence." Taylor exhaled. "The line between good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And while at first glance, Raymond Steele appears more of a useless puppet. Watching him closely, I realized he's the passive-aggressive type."
This was consistent with Christian's experience with the Steele family. When he'd initially contacted them, Ray Steele had answered the phone. Though their interaction was brief, Christian soon realized the man was not capable of answering any questions on his own accord. At one point, Carla abruptly took over the conversation, asserting her authority as the one who called all the shots.
"What about physical violence?"
Taylor shrugged. "Both types of violence are equally dangerous. They both seek to destroy."
"Okay, let me see the list of names."
First on the list was Samantha Prescott. She had an impressive resume, plus she was the only female.
After discussing the advantages of hiring Ms. Prescott, Christian started embracing the idea. An additional advantage was he could shift the medication responsibility to Prescott. It would take a load off his back. It was a pain having to be home at a certain time for medication duty. So, yes, it was like killing two birds with one stone.
He was about to give verbal consent when Taylor's expression suddenly shifted. It was so unlike him to check his phone amid a conversation.
"Excuse me, Sir. It's Gail. She took Ms. Mia and Ms. Anastasia to Esclava. I've asked her to keep her eyes open and alert me to anything unusual. She says Ms. Leila is at Esclava."
"Wh-what? What the fuck is she doing there?"
" How would you like me to proceed, Sir?"
Christian blinked. If he'd learned anything about Leila in all the time they'd been together, she had a twisty mind. And if he had to guess, she was about to violate her NDA and contact Mia. She seemed to have developed an odd sense of immunity as though she thought her pregnancy offered her protection and upgraded her status from outsider to full member of the family.
"Let's go," Christian said, grabbing his coat.
A/N: Text in bold was taken from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss.
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