The thought of making him mine

Isabella's point of view

The rays of the sun filtered through the curtains, resting on my eyelids. I stretched on the bed, rolling to the other side. I had completely forgotten that Ryan had demarcated the bed and marked his portion, warning me not to cross the boundary.

Unlike other days, I observed he wasn't on the bed—not even close to me. I sat upright, staring at the spacious room and realizing he was absent. Didn't he sleep in the room?

I rose from the bed, throwing my feet toward the edge, a sigh escaping my lips. He hadn't even looked at me after the strange encounter with Kyle. Something about his mood when he returned from the store threw me off.

"You look tense. What is the problem?" I had asked while we were returning. I anticipated a response, but all I got was silence, his grip firm on the steering wheel.

"Ryan?" I called, reaching for his hand. Just as I touched him, he stepped on the brake pedal, almost crashing us into a building.

"Why do you act like you care?!" he asked, his breathing shallow, his eyes wide with anger.

My knuckles turned pale, fear crawling across my skin. I instantly regretted touching him.

"Save your attitude for someone else. This marriage was a mistake. Staying close to you is a mistake. A second with you feels like hell!" he yelled, his fingers occasionally hitting the steering wheel. His words were like a punch to my gut, hot stings filling my eyes as my vision blurred.

"You think I wanted this?" I asked, my voice cracking.

I couldn't even look him in the eyes, and I felt like I was suffocating. Every minute I spent in the car reminded me that I was sold to his family just for money.

I opened the car door and walked out. I felt his eyes boring into my skin, and after a brief moment, he zoomed off.

After that encounter, we hadn't spoken. I walked down the stairs, and just at the mezzanine, I felt pain coursing down my lower abdomen, a wave of nausea hitting me.

My mother-in-law, who was busy arranging her bag in the sitting room, noticed how I doubled over, writhing in pain.

"Isabella, are you alright?" she asked, concern etched on her face. "Call the ambulance!" she yelled, rushing toward me.

The maids helped me down the stairs, slowly guiding me until I got into her car, and she zoomed off. A few minutes later, we arrived at the hospital, and I was admitted.

The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, the humming of machines filling the air. After a series of tests, I sat in the waiting room, waiting for the results.

A few minutes later, a short nurse appeared with some papers in her hand, a smile on her lips.

"Is she out of danger? Will such a thing happen again?" my mother-in-law asked, rising to her feet, her eyes locking with the nurse's.

The nurse smirked at her, a sigh escaping her lips.

"Nothing is really wrong with her. She's just…" she paused, handing me the piece of paper, still wearing a wide smile.

My eyes widened as I stared at the paper, my heart skipping a beat. I was pregnant? This wasn't happening. My lips quivered, sweat beading down my temples.

I knew this was definitely a result of the one-night stand I had before meeting Ryan, and Ryan hasn't slept with me—not ever. He finds it difficult to look me in the eyes, let alone make out with me.

"Bella, are you alright?" my mother-in-law asked, her voice heavy with curiosity.

My gaze darted between her and the paper, fear crawling across my skin.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked, walking close to me.

I stared at her like I had seen a ghost, which freaked her out. How was I going to deliver the news to her? What would happen once she realized the child wasn't Ryan's?

"I... I…" I stammered, the words stuck in my throat.

"You are?" she asked, growing impatient.

"She's pregnant!" the nurse interrupted.

My mother-in-law heaved a sigh of relief, walking close to me and hugging me. She wasn't as cruel as I thought she was; she was simply kind-hearted and loving.

"You don't need to be afraid, young mothers. You'll get used to it," she said dismissively, leading me out of the room.

I felt tears burn my eyes, and I held them back as I climbed into the car. My mother-in-law tried a lot of things to cheer me up, but none of it worked.

A few minutes later, we pulled up at my house, and I got down, my shoulders slumped. If Ryan found out, I would definitely be kicked out of the house, and my family wouldn't accept me.

"Mother, can you keep this secret between us?" I asked, my voice cracking a bit.

"Why?" she asked calmly, halting in her tracks.

"Let's just say I would want to…"

"Keep it a secret?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Not happening," she whispered, walking into the sitting room.

I walked into my room, dropping the test results on the nightstand, allowing the tears which had clouded my eyes to fall freely down my cheeks. I was going to experience torture and pain. I felt like running away before Ryan came home, but I couldn't think of where to run to.

"Think, Bella," I cried bitterly, wiping the tears with the edge of my palm. Sadly, my brain was as blank as my fate.

The clock taunted me with its continuous ticking, minutes turning into hours. And slowly, twilight came knocking on the door.

I stood beside the curtain in the dimly lit room, my heart pounding as I stared through the window. Sweat dripped down my temples as my eyes fixated on the sleek black car driving into the garage. He was home.

My lips quivered, and I tried hard not to pass out. This was going to be a long night. My eyes shifted back to the doctor's test report on the nightstand. I was pregnant, and I didn't know how he would react to the news.

He stepped out of his car, walking arrogantly into the mansion, unfazed by the raindrops falling on his suit.

I took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat, then walked over to the bed and covered myself with a blanket, tears rolling down my cheeks. My breathing came in short, haggard gasps as I squeezed the bedsheet, hoping it would absorb the fear clouding my mind.

An unnerving silence settled over the mansion, and I was certain my mother-in-law, Kate, had broken the news to him.

"Where is she?!" His voice thundered through the house, filled with hatred. I curled up in the blanket, my breathing hitching. I wanted to disappear into thin air.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and a cool breeze rushed into the room, snuffing out the candle. I felt his gaze pierce through me, and I shut my eyes, my heartbeat nearly deafening.

He stood at the threshold, his domineering presence saturating the air as he observed my pathetic form.

"There you are," he whispered in a low, unforgiving tone that made my stomach churn with fear. My body trembled as he strode into the room, the soles of his shoes echoing off the polished marble floor.

"R...Ryan," I gasped. "Y...You're home?" I stammered, adjusting myself on the bed.

His cold gaze shifted to the table, spotting the test results. He walked over, picked up the papers, and stared hard at them before tilting his head up to meet my eyes.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he walked toward me, his jaw clenched.

"Ryan… D...Darling, I can explain. It's not what you think. I…" I stammered, almost pleading for my life. But my words had no effect on him.

He narrowed his gaze, his eyes blazing with fury. His cologne mixed with his intimidating, masculine aura.

"Tell me one good reason I shouldn't rip you apart," he asked, shaking his head in disgust. "A lowlife like you cheating on me is something I will not tolerate in the Walters family," he sneered.

Tears streamed down my face, my eyes pleading with him, but my voice failed me. All I could do was stare, my lips quivering.

"Wait until I tell them what you really are!" he shouted, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling, threatening to rip it from my scalp.

"Ryan, please," I begged, my voice shaking. He dragged me out of the bed, and I hit my stomach on the floor, writhing in pain, but he didn't care.

"Ryan, you're hurting me," I begged, tears racing down my face. He didn't listen, didn't even flinch at my words. He dragged me to the mezzanine, forcing me to look down at everyone gathered below.

"Tell them the truth, Isabella. Tell them the damn truth!" he shouted.

Everyone looked shocked.

"The child doesn't belong to him. This baby…is not his," I whispered bitterly, shutting my eyes and letting the tears fall freely, without restraint.