Chapter 6
I woke up in the morning and my husband had gone to work, so I decided to shower and get some breakfast.
I cleaned around the house and prepared the menu for later today, and suddenly the bell rang.
I went to check the door and it was Nathan’s mother and his father.
I let them in the house as I greeted them and I went to sit down on my couch.
“What do I owe this pleasure?”
She looked around the house.
“You know its basic manners to give someone something to eat or drink, if they are visiting your house.”
My father in-law said softly.
“If the guests are welcomed in my house then I would do so of course but you are neither welcomed nor are you my guests.”
I said in a sharp voice and they looked like I had thrown cold water on them.
Before they could speak there was another bell ring, I got up to check and it was Remy!
Carrying so much food.
“Good morning Mrs. Cullen, your husband asked me to bring you these.”
He smiled at me.
“Please place them in the counter for me and please wait for me in the balcony.”
He nodded his head and did as he was told, he walked pass my husband’s without a glance nor a greeting.
“So how can I help you?”
I turned my attention back to them, she pulled out a silver envelope and she laid it on the table.
“This is a contract stating how we want our grandbaby to be raised, which schools the will attend, what they will become and that you will give this child to me and my husband to raise, of course we will give you visiting rights.”
I started laughing hysterically.
“Have you lost your minds!!? This is my child! Not ours! And if anything,
Nathan has more rights over this baby then you!
I WILL ONLY EVER OBEY THIS CONTRACT IF MY HUSBAND WANTS IT SO!”
I started feeling dizzy and then I blacked out.
When I came too, I was laying on the couch with a towel on my head with Remy watching me in the far corner.
“What happened?”
I asked softly.
“You fainted, your husband is on his way.”
I nodded my head.
“Do your in laws always treat you like this?”
I nodded my head.
“By choice.”
I whispered.
“What do you mean?”
He asked curiously.
"My husband is ready to cut ties with them but I don’t want that,
contrary to what you might think I love Nathan’s mother, she reminds me of my mother.
My mother was like her a little unstable but she’s a polished version of my mother,
and knowing my husband he would cut ties with them forever and I don’t want that.
My husband has been through a lot because of me, and I don’t want him to lose his parents over minor things.”
He nodded his head.
“Give me your phone number.”
He said suddenly and I felt flustered.
“Why?”
I asked softly.
“Your husband’s here.”
He gave me that damn smile.
“Give me your phone.”
I whispered, I took it and punched in my number.
“Don’t overuse it!”
He chuckled and he smirked.
My husband walked in and Remy left.
“Are you okay, what happened?”
He looked so worried.
“Nothing, I am fine just got a little upset.”
I whispered.
“A little?”
He noticed the envelope, he took it and he opened it.
The more he read it, the more puce his face became.
“I will be right back.”
He said angrily, I grabbed his hand.
“Don’t, not when you are angry! You need to calm down first! I am not going to let you drive in this condition.”
He sat down.
“Baby I’m tired of this! I am tired of them treating you like this in fact I’m so over it, I am done! No more going to them, no more seeing them! I don’t want them near you or our child.”
He whispered softly.
“Okay baby.”
He kissed me softly.
“I’m not going back to the office now,”
Nathan said firmly, pulling me into a gentle hug.
“Nothing is more important than you right now.”
I looked up at him, surprised. “But you had meetings.”
“They can wait. You fainted, Amela. That scared me. I want to be here, take Care of you… just be with you.”
Tears welled in my eyes, but I smiled.
“You always know how to make me feel like the most important person in the world.”
“Because you are,”
he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“You and this little one.”
He reached out and gently placed a hand over my stomach, protective and tender.
“I’ll make us something to eat,”
he said, standing up.
“You rest, okay? Doctor’s orders.”
I nodded, lying back on the couch as he headed to the kitchen.
The warmth of his love wrapped around me more securely than any blanket,
and for the first time in a while, despite everything,
I felt safe.
As my husband was making us food, my phone vibrated.
When I checked it, it was a text message from Remy.
Remy: Amela do you always smell like cinnamon and cotton candy?
I stared at the text message but I chose to ignore it, after a few minutes it vibrated again.
Remy: Do you think I won’t text you just because you are ignoring me?
Again I didn’t answer him.
My husband came with a plate filled with food, it was smelling so good!
My husband sat next to me and we started eating.
“Baby, how is Remy doing at work?”
I asked softly.
My husband smiled.
“Honestly,
he works much more than Alex and he is a perfectionist!
I like the way he works and how he pays attention to detail.
I think that I’m a couple of months,
if he continues to do well, I will promote him.”
I nodded my head.
“Why do you ask?”
He asked softly.
“I just wanted to know if I did a good job orientating him, and if that’s the case I believe his boss, owes me a salary.”
My husband chuckled.
“You know, you are right he does owe you.”
He said as he got up and he returned with his wallet.
“Here.”
He gave it to me.
“Baby, what are you doing?”
I asked.
“That’s your salary.”
He smiled.
“You know, I will spend all of your money and make you broke!”
He caressed my head.
“You can only wish too, even if you do; you could never make me broke.”
He said sweetly.
My phone vibrated and it was Remy again.
Remy: Amela do you prefer that I call you? Why aren’t you replying?
My husband took my plate and he returned with two glasses of water.
“I will go work in the study for a little bit and then I will come cuddle you.”
He kissed my forehead gently and then he went away.
I grabbed my phone looking at Remy’s texts,
I decided to delete them but then my phone rang and it was him.
I stared at it until he dropped the call,
for the sake of my peace and sanity;
I blocked his number and I placed my phone on flight mode.
I touched my stomach and I smiled,
feeling joy settling over me at the thought of having Nathan’s child.
I really wanted to have a glass of wine right now but my lovely husband would freak out.
Eventually I drifted off to a peaceful slumber.
Nathan’s lips were on my shoulder before I was even fully awake.
“Good morning, Mrs. Cullen,” he murmured against my skin.
His hand slid over my waist, fingers splayed protectively over my stomach.
“Is it morning already?”
I asked, voice still husky from sleep.
“Mhm. But I figured I’d start the day with a little theatrics ,” he whispered, kissing the curve of my neck.
I turned in his arms, meeting his warm brown eyes, still heavy with sleep but darkening fast with hunger.
“Theactrics?”
I teased, brushing my nose against his.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
He chuckled, low and deep.
“It’s the premier. I’m the star of the show.”
Before I could laugh, his mouth found mine, and just like that, I melted.
There was no hesitation, no slow build. Nathan didn’t just love me — he claimed me.
His hands traced every inch of my body like he was reacquainting himself with a masterpiece he already owned. And I let him. Gladly. Eagerly.
The Intimacy between us wasn’t just physical — it was sacred. He kissed my stomach, whispered to our baby, then climbed back up and made love to me like it was the only thing in the world that made sense.
By the time we collapsed together, tangled in the sheets, I could barely breathe from the high of it all.
“I love you,”
I whispered, my forehead pressed against his.
“I’ll never stop loving you,”
he whispered back, voice hoarse with sincerity.
We stayed wrapped in each other a while longer, until the morning sun demanded attention.
He rolled out of bed with a groan and padded to the closet.
I watched him dress — tailored black pants, a crisp white shirt, cufflinks I’d gifted him last year. Man, he was beautiful.
He turned to me as he buttoned his sleeve.
“Baby, before I forget,”
he said. “Remy’s coming over this afternoon.”
The air thickened instantly.
I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. “Why?”
Nathan grabbed his watch, strapping it on casually.
“I want you to go over that acquisition proposal with him. His instincts are improving but still a bit green. You see things others don’t. Teach him to see it your way.”
I tried to keep my voice even.
“Can’t it wait until you’re back?”
He smiled gently.
“I trust you both. And besides…”
He crossed over to me, kissed my temple.
“You’re the best business mind I know, and I want our companies in good hands.”
Our companies.
He meant that. Every word.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He grinned. “That’s my girl.”
Then, with one last kiss, he grabbed his keys and left.
The door clicked shut.
And just like that, the warmth of the morning drained into something colder.
I pulled on a robe and stood in front of the mirror,
brushing my hair as I stared at my reflection. My heart beat faster, dread blooming in my chest
.
Remy was coming.
And this time, I wouldn’t be deleting his messages.
After Nathan left, the house settled into silence — the kind of silence that feels a little too loud.
I sat at the edge of the bed for a long time,
letting the sheet slip from my shoulders as I stared at the sunlight crawling across the floor.
I could still feel Nathan’s hands on me… the warmth, the intimacy,
the way he made me feel like I was everything.
I decided to take a shower and I took note that I had bite marks on my body,
my body hummed at the pleasure of knowing my husband knows how to handle me.
I got dressed and I went downstairs to make some food,
honestly I don’t know what I was craving so I just ate cereal.
Around 9 O’clock, Remy showed up to the house.
Carrying a tablet and some files,
I didn’t want us working inside the house so we went to the garden.
“So you blocked me.”
He said with a smirk.
“I told you not overuse my number.”
He was staring intently at me, his index finger tapping against his lip.
“Are you afraid of falling for me and that your husband might be upset?”
I chuckled.
“Falling for you? You’d have to be my type first.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes and he sat down.
He was pouting now, actually he was sulking like a little kid.
“Let’s get to work.”
He said coldly.
I grabbed the files that he arrived with and I looked through them, then I started going through them with him.
After about three hours of speaking business, my baby and my stomach decided that they were hungry.
“Would you like something to eat?”
I asked politely and he nodded his head.
I went to the kitchen and started preparing some food for us,
To be honest I was grateful that Remy was quiet.
His silence wasn’t making me uncomfortable, and it made easy for to think rationally.
As I was lost in thought I felt, strong steady arms wrapping around me.
Immediately I started wriggling out of his arms but he held on tighter.
“Don’t move.”
He whispered in my ear and I shivered.
He was tracing the length of my neck but he wasn’t quiet touching me,
my heart was beating erratically and I could feel it pulsing through my ears.
“Remy let go of me, this is my marital home! You don’t get to disrespect my husband like this.”
He turned me around, picked me up and placed me on the kitchen counter.
He stared at me from beneath his lashes, still caging me between his arms as I sat frozen on the counter.
“I know this is your home,” he said softly. “That’s why I’m not touching you.”
His voice was like dark velvet, low and unshaken, even though I could feel the tension rippling through his muscles.
And then, just as suddenly as he’d caged me, he stepped back.
“You can lie to me with your words,” he muttered,
“but your body, sweetheart—it’s saying something else entirely.”
“You know nothing about my body,”
I shot back, trying to sound firm,
but my voice betrayed me, coming out as a shaky whisper.
He tilted his head, studying me.
“So you’re telling me,”
he said slowly,
“that if I tore through your clothes and bound you to this counter… you wouldn’t
feel a thing?”
My breath hitched. I narrowed my eyes, trying to silence the electric pull crackling between us.
But before I could say a word, the front door swung open.
Everything happened too fast.
Remy yanked me off the counter with practiced speed,
but in the scramble, my foot twisted beneath me—I stumbled, pain shooting up my leg.
“Dammit,”
I gasped, clutching the counter for balance.
“I told you to be careful, Mrs. Cullen,”
Remy said crisply, his tone snapping back into professional coolness.
“Mr. Cullen will fire me if he comes home to find you injured.”
My eyes widened in shock—but then I saw her.
Nathan’s mother entered like she owned the air in the room,
draped in elegance and carrying shopping bags that probably cost more than my car.
She didn’t seem to notice—or care—how
close I’d just come to disaster.
Remy helped me onto the couch with a tight grip, leaning in close.
“You better unblock me,”
he whispered against my ear,
“or next time I see you… you and this couch will be the same color.”
He straightened and walked away like nothing had happened.
“Senior Mrs. Cullen,”
he said coolly, shifting into assistant mode,
“is there something you need? As far as I’m aware, you’re not supposed to be anywhere near Amela without Mr. Cullen present.”
“I’m just here to check on her,”
she replied airily.
“She is carrying my grandbaby, after all.”
“Then should I call Mr. Cullen and let him know you’re here?”
Remy offered, already reaching for his phone.
“No, it’s fine,”
I cut in quickly, voice low.
“Remy… you can go home.”
He didn’t look back. He grabbed his tablet,
And with one last click of his polished shoes against the marble floor,
He was gone.
The silence he left behind wasn’t peaceful this time.
It was loaded.
Nathan’s mother eased herself onto the couch across from me, folding her legs like she was settling in for a polite visit.
“I believe I owe you an apology for last time,” she said softly.
“I wasn’t considerate of your feelings… Now will you tell Nathan to speak to me?”
Her voice was measured, the kind people use when they want to sound kind but don’t quite care enough to mean it.
Still, I nodded.
“I’ll let him know.”
Her eyes flicked to my ankle.
“Want me to get you an ice pack for that?”
“No, it’s fine,”
I said, sharper than I intended. “If you’ve said what you needed to say, please leave.”
She nodded, as if this had all gone according to her own little script.
“Oh. I bought you some maternity clothes. I hope you like them.”
Her tone was stiff, formal. She placed the bags beside the couch, then turned and left without another word.
The moment the door shut, my whole body sagged in relief. Finally alone.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, letting the silence wrap around me again.
I was hungry and far too tired to unpack anything that had just happened.
The day felt like a dream that kept slipping sideways.
I reached for my phone and opened the food delivery app, ordering something warm and greasy—something that didn’t ask anything of me emotionally.
While I waited, my eyes drifted to Remy’s contact, still sitting at the top of my messages.
His words echoed.
“You and the couch will be the same color.”
I frowned.
What did he mean by that?
It was cryptic. Threatening. Or… was it a promise?
Nope.
I wasn’t doing this. Not tonight.
I was too tired for overthinking, for dissecting innuendo, for guilt wrapped in heat.
I tossed the phone face-down on the coffee table just as the doorbell rang.
I limped over, took the food, and curled up on the couch with a blanket thrown over my legs. I didn’t even remember eating all of it—just the warmth, the salt, the fleeting comfort.
By the time the last bite was gone, I was barely holding on.
Sleep took me quickly.
But not quietly see in see.
Sleep wrapped around me like silk, thick and dangerous.
In the dream, I was no longer in our home.
I was pressed against the kitchen counter — his hands gripping my waist, his mouth trailing along the curve of my neck.
Remy.
His voice was low, sinful, brushing over my skin like heat.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured. “Lie to me again, sweetheart.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.
My back arched, chasing the friction, chasing his breath — his hands were rough in the most delicious way. The tension between my legs burned hotter than fire, my skin hypersensitive. I was dripping, desperate.
Then suddenly, I was on my bed — bare, exposed — and Remy was everywhere. His mouth, his teeth, his growl.
“You’re mine in this moment. Say it.”
I moaned, shameless, clawing at the sheets. “Make love to me…”
But it wasn’t Remy’s voice that answered.
It was Nathan.
“I’m here, baby.”
I didn’t wake up.
Not yet.
I only felt warm, real hands cupping my thighs.
Lips kissing reverently down my body. A body that knew me, loved me.
But in the haze, I still saw Remy’s smirk.
Nathan’s mouth found the place that throbbed for him, and I gasped — trembling, hips bucking up into his face.
He devoured me like I was his last breath, his fingers gripping my thighs apart as he made love to me with his tongue.
My eyes suddenly opened on their own accord and I saw Nathan buried down there in.
“Nathan.”
I moaned, his lustful eyes looked at me.
“Don’t make love to me, take me to the play room.”
His eyes darkened and the desire intensified.
“Are you sure?”
He said breathlessly.
“Take me.”
I whimpered.
The door creaked open, and the room welcomed us like a secret — dark-lit, warm, laced with the scent of leather, candle wax, and something more primal.
Nathan’s hand didn’t let go of mine.
He pulled me inside with purpose, flicking on a single switch. Dim amber light spilled across the walls, revealing velvet ropes, padded cuffs, and the polished gleam of well-loved restraints.
The shadows danced like they were watching — silent witnesses to every sin.
“Strip,” he commanded, voice low, deep, already unraveling.
I obeyed, fingers trembling slightly — not from fear, but anticipation. My body responded to his authority, but my mind…
My mind wandered.
Remy.
The way his voice curled around me like smoke.
The way he dared me to deny him.
Nathan came behind me, bare now too, and ran his fingers down my spine, slow — claiming.
He pushed me to the padded bench, locking my wrists in place, kissing the back of my neck like it was sacred ground.
“You’re mine here,” he whispered.
No, my body screamed. I’m his in my head.
I gasped when the first slap landed across my ass — sharp, perfect. Pain laced with pleasure.
Nathan knew every reaction, every moan I’d ever made. But tonight they weren’t his. Not really.
Every flick of his fingers, every tightening of the restraints, every time he touched me where I needed it most — I felt Remy in the heat. In the tension. In the imagined voice growling,
“You belong to me, even when you’re not mine.”
Nathan took his time, dragging the orgasm from me like he was painting a masterpiece.
His hands were firm, his rhythm merciless. He didn’t kiss me. He claimed me. And I let him.