Chapter 2 0002
Lexi's POV
My hands would not stop shaking as I sat in my old Toyota in the Stallions' parking garage and kept replaying the press conference. I was his wife, and I was crying alone in a car that only started half the time.
A sharp knock on my window made me jump. Ronald Holloway stood beside my car in his perfect suit and looked impatient as he pointed at the passenger door. I wiped my cheeks and unlocked it, and he climbed in without asking if he could sit down.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," he said as he dropped a brown envelope in my lap. "There's half a million dollars in there. That's enough money for the procedure, a new apartment, and a fresh start somewhere far away from here."
Nausea rolled through me right away. "You want me to kill my baby?"
Ronald did not even blink. "I want you to understand the consequences of your decisions."
I shoved the envelope away, but he caught my wrist before it hit the floor. "My son cannot afford a scandal about a secret marriage and a surprise pregnancy."
"Then he should not have married me," I said.
"That marriage was a mistake. Divorce papers will come, and you will sign them, and this whole situation will go away. You should be grateful I am offering you a generous settlement instead of letting this get ugly."
"Generous?" I laughed even though the tears kept coming. "You're paying me to get rid of my child."
"I'm offering you a way out," Ronald said.
I tore open the envelope and pulled out the check. The number blurred through my tears, so I ripped it in half. Ronald's eyebrows rose as I tore the pieces again and dropped them right onto his polished shoes.
"I grew up in a trailer park, Mr. Holloway. I know exactly what half a million dollars buys. It buys a house and every bill paid and everything I never had. And I still do not want a single cent of it if it costs me my baby."
"You'll regret that," he said, and he almost looked amused.
He got out of the car and then leaned back down. "One more thing. If you go to the press, my lawyers will handle it. Nobody will believe a girl with your background over the Holloway family."
He shut the door and walked off. I drove home crying the whole way.
I dropped my handbag on the kitchen counter. The pregnancy test was still inside, wrapped in a tissue, and I set it beside the sink. Two pink lines stared up at me.
I had pictured telling Chase in his mansion while the two of us argued over baby names. Instead I had watched him kiss another woman on television.
My phone rang with Chase's name on the screen, and I let it ring out twice because if I heard his voice I might beg him to take everything back. The call ended and a voicemail notification popped up. I pressed play and set the phone on the counter while I gripped the edge with both hands.
"Lexi, listen to me." He sounded annoyed with me. "I'm serious about what I told you. Get rid of it. I'll pay for the clinic, whatever it costs. You don't have to worry about the money. If you don't, I'll tell everyone it's not mine. I'll say you were seeing somebody else and tried to trap me. And if you think you can run to the press, think again. I know people at every station in this city. You'll never work here again."
He paused and his voice went soft, and somehow that felt even worse. "Don't make me do this, Lexi. You know how much I love you. Just handle it, and we'll talk when things calm down."
The recording ended. He had threatened me, blamed me, and then said "I love you" like those words could erase everything he had just said. I played the message twice more. By the third time I heard it clearly: he was already getting ready to deny our child before the baby was even born.
My thumb hovered over the delete button because hearing it made me sick, but one day Chase would pretend none of this ever happened and I wanted proof. I saved the voicemail, backed it up, and emailed a copy to myself.
I rested both palms on my stomach. "Whatever happens, I won't let him hurt you."
The knock came at nine that night. It was three firm knocks. Chase always knocked like that when he forgot his key. My stupid heart still jumped as I yanked the door open.
He stood there with damp hair and a leather travel bag on his shoulder. Then I smelled a woman's perfume on his collar, and it was sharp and expensive. He walked right past me into the apartment.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"Getting my things." He dropped the bag by the couch and headed straight for the bedroom. "My father said you tore up the check."
I followed him. "Your father offered me money to kill our baby."
He stopped in the bedroom doorway. "Don't make it sound like that."
"Then what should I call it?" My voice cracked. "You told me to get rid of our child. You threatened to deny the baby. What am I supposed to call that?"
He sighed. "Lexi, I don't have time for this."
"You had time to announce your engagement."
His eyes narrowed. "Madison is a business arrangement that helps both families. You know how this works."
"No, Chase. I know how marriage works. I know what you promised me in Las Vegas."
He turned his back on me and yanked clothes out of the closet and stuffed them into his bag. Those were the shirts I had washed and folded, the jackets I had bought him with money I saved from my part-time job, and the framed photo of us outside our college stadium. He dropped the photo into the bag without even looking at it.
"Please." I grabbed his arm. "This is our baby."
He jerked free so hard that I stumbled back into the dresser. His face twisted. "You trapped me in Vegas. You're not trapping me with a baby."
I could not breathe. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." He shoved another shirt into the bag. "You knew who I was. You knew what my career meant. You agreed to keep it secret, and now you want my whole future."
"You asked me to marry you!"
"And I was twenty years old!"
"So was I!"
For one second I thought he might apologize, but instead he just zipped the bag shut. "I have a contract to protect, Lexi. I have Madison, my family, and millions of people watching every move I make. I'm not throwing all that away because you got pregnant."
He carried what was left of our life together toward the front door. I followed him and kept crying. "Chase, please."
He reached for the handle. A knock sounded on the open door, and we both turned around.
Zeke Monroe stood in the doorway wearing a Stallions training shirt with a thick playbook under one arm.
The linebacker had been Chase's best friend since college. He had toasted our secret wedding with cheap champagne and sworn he would keep it quiet. His eyes moved from the packed bag to my wet cheeks and then over to Chase. His mouth flattened into a hard line.
