Not Their Daughter, Just the Mistress Chapter 13

Not Their Daughter, Just the Mistress Chapter 13

I didn’t say a word the entire ride home.

I curled into the corner of the seat and shook.

The silence coming off Everett could’ve frozen the air. Then he spoke.

“I’m sorry about today. It won’t happen again.”

I managed a weak nod.

Everett sucked his teeth. His eyes slid to me, razor–sharp.

“You’re burning up.”

Every muscle in my body locked.

My fingers were shaking as I pressed myself against the car door.

“I’m sorry, Everett. I’m sorry. I’ll take a cold shower when we get home and handle it myself, I swear. I won’t bother you… Please don’t hand me over to your guards…”

Everett went rigid. His jaw clenched so hard I heard it. “Babe, who told you that?”

“Tell me who it was. I’d love to… have a little conversation with them.”

[Ha, Everett’s testing her.]

[He thinks someone’s been coaching this stupid sidepiece behind the scenes. He wants to find them and take

them out.]

[He genuinely can’t stand her. So sad lol…]

The look on Everett’s face could’ve ended someone.

I swallowed hard, shook my head, and didn’t say another word.

He didn’t push. He just pulled me against him, close enough that his scent drowned out every trace of Nolan’s cologne.

Back home, he let out a sigh like he’d run out of ways to handle me.

“Babe, you’re mine. I can’t get enough of you… Why would I ever let anyone else touch you?”

I almost relaxed, and then he shifted his weight over me, and the sound that came out of me wasn’t relief. Then his hand slid down and settled over my stomach, tracing the slight curve of it, and he rubbed slow circles, like he was trying to figure something out.

“Is it just me, or… has your stomach gotten bigger?”

His eyes lifted to mine. Searching.

“Is there a baby in here?”

My breath stopped.

The drug was still burning through me, but the fear hit harder.

I shook my head so hard my neck hurt.

“H–how? You know I can’t have kids. The doctor said so… Remember, honey?”

A year into us, Everett had taken me for a full checkup.

The doctor said the odds were bad, not zero. But I’d let Everett believe it was impossible.

Everett wavered.

I let out a sob and made a show of wiping my eyes.

“Do you want a baby that badly? You’re seeing things… I’m sorry. I really can’t give you one…”

“No, of course not!”

He stopped pressing. Pulled me close and said it like he meant every word.

“Babe, you know I can’t stand kids. I’m never having them. I don’t want them in my world. Not ever…”

He’d said this before. I knew he meant it.

Hearing it again still cut just as deep.