Chapter 2

2

The next morning, the smell of food from the kitchen woke me up.

Fletcher was busy at the stove, the table already piled high with gourmet dishes.

I couldn't even manage a smile.

The blizzard was raging outside, and the government had issued a red alert.

Even though Fletcher's unit provided supplies, they were limited.

We couldn't afford to be this wasteful without a plan.

"Fletch, I'm really craving some lobster tail," Brielle cooed.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her arm looped through his.

Fletcher gave her a doting smile and dialed his phone.

"Hey, Miller, send over ten fresh sturgeons, some tuna belly, and twenty pounds of organic greens…"

I couldn't take it anymore. I lunged forward, grabbed the phone, and cut the call.

Fletcher froze, and when he saw it was me, he exploded.

"Nova, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Fletcher, this is a state of emergency! You're abusing your power. What about everyone else?"

He looked at my accusation with total indifference.

"So what? I have the power, don't I?"

Before I could argue, Brielle strolled over with a look of mock concern.

"Fletch, Nova was raised as a pampered princess. Asking for favors probably makes her feel embarrassed."

She shot me a timid look and stepped closer, acting like a martyr.

"Nova, don't be mad at him. It's the baby who's hungry. He's just worried about a lonely widow and her child."

I wasn't buying her act for a second.

"What kind of monster are you carrying that needs ten pounds of food for one meal?"

"That thing should be snuffed out before it's even born if it's going to be such a burden on society!"

"And you, Fletcher, you're a public official, and you dare to abuse―"

SLAP.

"Nova! Shut up with your fake morality."

"The only reason this family has food is because of me. You better get on your knees and apologize right now!"

"Otherwise, I'll let you starve to death in this house!"

I stared at Fletcher. The gentle, refined man I knew was gone, replaced by a demon.

When I didn't speak, he grabbed my hair and slammed me to the ground.

"Kneel and apologize, or you don't eat today."

I struggled to my feet, forcing myself to look him in the eye.

"In your dreams."

Infuriated that I had embarrassed him in front of Brielle, he dragged me to the bedroom and locked the door from the outside.

"You don't come out until you're ready to beg for forgiveness."

The door slammed shut, and my heart sank into an abyss.

My body was incredibly weak after the loss of my baby, and this confrontation had drained the last of my energy.

There was only a thin sheet on the bed, useless against the bone-chilling air.

I began searching the room for anything to keep me warm.

A prenatal exam report on the floor caught my eye.

In the margins, there were lines of handwritten notes from Fletcher, expressing his excitement for this new life.

But the name at the top was "Brielle."

No wonder he was so protective of her pregnancy.

No wonder he could watch me bleed out and feel nothing.

I frantically tore through the closet, finding stacks of hidden letters filled with their declarations of love.

I thought we at least had a history of genuine love.

But my entire marriage was just a long-con orchestrated by Fletcher.