A massive pickup truck swerved directly into his lane.
"Watch out!" Mark scread, slamming on the brakes.
The tires shrieked. The sll of burning rubber filled the cabin as the car fishtailed, missing the truck’s bumper by an inch.
The pickup honked a long, deafening blast and roared past, leaving Mark shaking in the middle of the dark road.
He sat there, chest heaving, staring at his trembling hands. He was losing it. He was losing Lyvana, he was losing the Montclairs’ respect, and now he was losing his mind.
He grabbed his phone to call Lyvana, to apologize, but he stopped.
If he called now, she wouldn’t even talk to him.
Mark threw the phone onto the passenger seat and shifted back into drive. He didn’t need to apologize. He needed to win. He needed to find out who Julian Blackwood really was.
He pulled up twenty minutes later to Clarisse’s building. He didn’t knock; he pounded on the door until she opened it.
Clarisse stood there, blocking the way. Her eyes were cold. "What do you want?"
"What do you an, what do I want?" Mark snapped, his voice tight with exhaustion. "I’ve had a long day. Let in."
"Go away, Mark."
"Are you mad at ?" He tried to step forward, but she didn’t budge.
"You are behaving strangely for a man who used to be all over ," Clarisse mocked, crossing her arms. "Go be with Lyvana. Go play house with your perfect fiancée."
The ntion of Lyvana snapped the last thread of Mark’s patience. He didn’t ask. He put his shoulder to the door, forcing his way into the apartnt.
Before she could protest, he reached out and grabbed her firmly by the waist, pulling her flush against him.
"Stop it," she hissed, though she didn’t pull away.
"You know it’s you I love," Mark growled into her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Not her. Not that cold woman who can’t even give children."
He grabbed her neck and started kissing her back and rubbing her wet pussy with his hand. At this point, she was soaked. He said,
"Are you ready to be fucked? " He ripped her shirt off and pulled her skirt and panties down. He pushed her unto the sofa.
She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close to her, opening her legs to get him as close as possible.
His lips circled her nipples, while his fingers dug into her. She felt his hardness press against her pussy. Before long, Mark entered her.
Yes, yes," Clarisse managed to whimper.
Hearing her words, Mark upped his pressure and speed.
"Yes, fuck , fuck , fuck ." She reached between her legs to massage her clit in tight circles.
But after a few seconds he stopped thrusting into her.
She groaned. "Why?"
"Wait." He didn’t say another word as he strode into the bedroom. A mont later, he erged holding a thick, black dildo.
He walked back to the sofa and looked down at her like a predator.
"Mark?" she whispered.
"Stay still," he commanded.
He knelt back down between her legs, and inserted the toy into her and as she was already wet it entered easily.
He began to move it in and out with a fast, rough rhythm. He didn’t slow down, even when she gasped. He kept one hand clamped firmly on her leg, pinning her down so she couldn’t move away.
"Mark—!" she cried out, her back arching off the cushions.
He didn’t stop. He pushed the toy into her again and again. Soon a loud, broken cry escaped her throat as a massive wave of pleasure crashed over her. He tossed the toy aside and quickly inserted his shaft into her.
Within minutes he was done.
"Am pregnant."
Mark froze. He slowly pulled back, his hands shaft still in her pussy, searching her eyes.
"What?" he whispered, his voice breathless.
"I’m pregnant, Mark," Clarisse said again. "Six weeks."
A slow, wide smile spread across Mark’s face. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he pulled her back into a tight hug. For the first ti all night, the heavy weight of the dinner and the humiliation from Julian disappeared.
"Are you serious?" Mark asked, laughing softly against her neck. "You’re sure?"
"I’m sure."
Mark let out a long, shaky breath of relief. All night, he had felt like he was losing everything. He had felt small and useless next to Julian. But now, he had sothing Julian could never have with Lyvana. A son.
"This is perfect," Mark murmured, pulling back to cup her face in his hands.
Clarisse lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. She hadn’t planned to get pregnant now. But she felt like she was losing Mark, and she needed a way to keep him.
Mark was so happy when she told him. He thought this baby was his "victory."
But as Clarisse held her stomach, she felt a chill of fear.
She and Alex have been fucking like crazy.
Now, Clarisse was doing the math in her head over and over.
Is this Mark’s baby? Or is it Alex’s?
If Mark ever found out the baby belonged to his brother, he wouldn’t just leave her—he would destroy her. But if she played her cards right, she could have everything she ever wanted.
....
"Shit!"
Lily took a sip of coffee from the paper cup. She didn’t even know how long she had been glued to the screen.
So she had been working on finishing the report for the company. It was late and she knew she had to go to sleep. Just then an email popped up. One of her people had been investigating, Andrew Thorne. Lyvana had asked for information on him.
She scrolled through the pictures sent, then read the report attached to it.
Lily rubbed her eyes, the caffeine barely holding back the fog in her brain. She leaned closer to the bright screen, scrolling past the boring academic history.
"Okay, Andrew Thorne... 33 years old. dical engineering lecturer. Yada, yada, yada," she muttered, her voice raspy from lack of sleep.
On the surface, he looked like a golden boy. Prestigious university, high-level research, a clean record. But Lily kept scrolling, looking for the cracks in the armor.
Suddenly, she stopped, and her eyes flew open.
"What the fuck," she muttered. She picked her phone to call Marco.
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