I studied her.
After everything Ashton had done to her, how could she still believe she had a chance? Even back in my high school days, when my infatuation with Rhys was at its peak, I would have turned against him instantly if he’d tried to make sleep with another man pretending to be him.
Yet here was Genevieve, confronted with my marriage to Ashton and my carrying his child, still utterly convinced she would win him over one day.
Was she that arrogant, or just profoundly delusional?
‘I want you to leave.’ My hand hovered over the call button.
‘Wait! Don’t you want to know why Ashton has always protected ?’
My hand stilled. That question had been a thorn in my side for a long ti, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing it bothered .
Genevieve leaned forward. ‘I’ll tell you. My brother died for Ashton. Ash gave his word that he would take care of .’
Her statent only spawned more questions. Who was her brother? When did this happen? How did he die? And what exactly did ‘taking care of’ entail? Did his promise include marrying her?
Genevieve crossed her arms, looking smug. ‘If you don’t believe , go ask Cassian. He knows all about it.’
‘Why are you telling this?’
‘I want you to know that no matter what happens, Ashton will never hurt . He always keeps his word.’
‘That doesn’t an he’ll be with you,’ I said, though the statent sounded weak even to my own ears.
Genevieve shrugged. ‘Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. To be honest, I don’t even like him that much. But I will have him. The title of Mrs Laurent will be mine. His money, his houses, his assets... everything he has will eventually be mine.’
‘So you’re just after his money.’
She smiled. ‘Now you’re finally catching on.’
‘You won’t succeed.’
‘Just watch .’ Genevieve glanced around the room. ‘Quite a nice setup you’ve got here. A private room, a fridge, a minibar, even security at the door. All of this should have been mine. My brother died for Ashton. If it weren’t for him, Ashton wouldn’t even be alive today. He owes .’
She gritted out the last sentence with such venom that I believed her. Not that I believed Ashton truly owed her anything, but I believed she was utterly convinced of her own entitlent.
‘Were you behind the kidnapping?’ I asked before I even realised the question was on my mind.
Genevieve paused. ‘Didn’t Rhys Granger confess to that? He and your father orchestrated the whole thing, or so Ashton told .’
Ashton had told her? Had he been eting with her without my knowledge? The thought left a sour taste in my mouth.
‘Maybe I had sothing to do with it, maybe I didn’t,’ she said smugly. ‘But you’ll never know for sure.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Get out.’
I rested a hand on my stomach.
The gesture seed to trigger her. Genevieve’s face hardened, and she spat out a vicious warning. ‘Ashton is mine. Mirabelle, my advice is to get out of the picture before you get hurt. Truly hurt. You got lucky this ti, managing to escape and snag another man to help you. But now you’re pregnant... you should be extra careful. Otherwise, next ti it might not just be you in danger, but that baby as well.’
I slowly got up from the bed, my eyes scanning the bedside table until they landed on the fruit knife.
Was she so arrogant because she was certain Ashton would never let harm her? Because she thought I was powerless?
I reached for the knife and pressed the cool blade against her neck. ‘Genevieve, don’t mistake my restraint for weakness. I’m not soone you can push around.’
Her eyes widened in panic. With the blade at her throat, she didn’t dare move.
‘If you hurt , Ashton will never forgive you!’
‘Shall we test that theory?’ I murmured, my voice a low threat.
Genevieve shrank back, too scared to speak, her gaze locked on the knife in my hand.
‘Tell the truth!’ I demanded coldly.
‘Never!’ she hissed.
I applied a little more pressure, and the blade nicked the skin behind her ear. A bead of blood welled up, then another, dripping onto the tip of the knife.
‘If you don’t start talking, the next cut will be across your face.’
‘You... you bitch!’ Genevieve was on the verge of tears, her voice trembling. ‘You wouldn’t dare!’
‘Do you really want to find out if I would?’ I gave a light, almost playful laugh.
‘No, please, don’t!’ Genevieve flinched as she felt the blade break skin again. She was shaking uncontrollably. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll talk, I’ll tell you! Just please, let go.’
I scoffed.
My eyes flicked towards the door. I clenched my jaw, shoved Genevieve away, and threw the fruit knife into the bin.
The mont she was free, Genevieve grabbed the nearest chair and swung it at .
There was a loud thud as the heavy chair connected with my body, followed by my pained grunt.
‘Mira!’ Ashton burst through the door and rushed to my side, pulling into his arms. ‘Are you all right?’
His eyes were full of a cold, murderous fury.
I could have dodged the chair when Genevieve swung it. But the mont I saw Ashton in the doorway, I changed my plan. I wanted to see if he would still take her side after watching her try to hurt .
‘Call a doctor!’ Ashton barked at the guards by the door.
I shook my head. ‘No, it’s fine.’
I got to my feet. The chair had smacked my shoulder, and it stung, but it was nothing serious. As for ending up on the floor... well, that part was for show.
‘Genevieve, what the hell is wrong with you?’ Ashton’s voice was a low, dangerous growl.
Hearing his anger, Genevieve panicked. ‘Ash, she started it! She cut with a knife! Look at my neck!’
She pointed to the scratches on her neck. They were there, but they were shallow.
Ashton didn’t even look at her. ‘I don’t care. You hurt her.’
‘She hurt first! Why can’t I defend myself? Ash, how can you bla ?’ Genevieve whined, her lips trembling as she fake-cried.
‘I told you to stay away from her!’
Genevieve’s crying hitched. Then she amped up the sobs, pouring on the misery. ‘Fine! If you don’t want here, I’ll go!’
She spun around, snatched her bag, shot a look of pure hatred, and flounced out of the room.
The door slamd shut, leaving a sudden quiet.
Ashton looked over, his hands on my shoulders. ‘Are you all right?’
I pulled myself together. ‘I’m fine.’
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