"Test me," Emily smiled. "See what happens."
Fear finally took root in Sloane's eyes.
Emily straightened her posture. She knew she wouldn't actually blow up the Sinclair empire—she had to protect her boys. Getting rid of Sloane completely wouldn't solve the problem either; Ryan would either hunt Sloane down, or he would simply replace her with someone new. It was vastly better to control everything with the devil she already knew.
Emily turned on her heel to leave.
"He loves me too," Sloane called out behind her.
Emily stopped.
"He doesn't say the words," Sloane continued, her voice gaining a desperate strength. "But I know he loves me. I feel it in the way he touches me. By everything he does for me. The way he acts when we are alone, the things we do together that aren't just sex. That is love."
Emily swallowed hard, the bitter truth burning her throat. "I know," she said.
The memory crashed over her. A night mere days after Ryan had looked Emily in the eye and sworn he didn't love Sloane.
Emily had been lying awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling since Ryan slipped out of their bed twenty minutes prior. Driven by a morbid need to see the truth with her own eyes, she threw on a robe, went down the stairs carefully, out the door, and crossed the dark lawn to the guest house.
She punched the code into the keypad and slipped inside without making a sound. The air conditioning hummed, masking her footsteps as she moved down the hallway.
Then, she heard it. Feminine moans drifting like a melody, accompanied by the deep, guttural grunts she knew so intimately.
Emily crept closer, peering around the edge of the living room archway.
Sloane was lying back on the plush sofa, propped up on her elbows. Emily watched, mesmerized and horrified, seeing Ryan kneeling between Sloane's legs, giving her unimaginable pleasure.
"I can’t get enough of you,” Ryan murmured against her skin.
Emily pressed a hand to her own belly, which was more than eight months pregnant at the time. A sharp, physical pain radiated through her chest. Hearing those words gutted her because he did and said the exact same things for her.
"I love you," Sloane gasped, her head falling back.
Ryan didn't say it back, but he didn't pull away either. He intensified his actions, consuming her completely, and Emily couldn't force herself to look away. When Sloane finally shattered into an orgasm, Ryan stood up. He reached down and gently scooped Sloane into his arms, kissing her mouth ashe carried her toward the bedroom, murmuring that he wanted her to be comfortable enough to take all of him.
Unable to resist the self-inflicted torture, Emily followed them down the hall. She arrived at the bedroom doorway just in time to see Ryan finishing the task of removing Sloane's dress. Sloane's belly was much larger than the last time Emily had seen it.
Ryan dropped to his knees. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss to the swell of Sloane's stomach. He whispered something against her skin. Emily couldn't hear the entire sentence, but the final words carried across the room.
"...Daddy’s little girl.”
A girl. Sloane was giving him a daughter. The realization cut Emily to the bone.
Sloane giggled, tangling her fingers in Ryan's hair. He stood up, kissed her deeply, and carried her to the mattress. He entered her carefully, his movements restrained and deeply considerate.
"God, it feels so good to be inside you," Ryan groaned. "You're so fucking tight.”
Sloane moaned with a level of uninhibited bliss, and he groaned in response—a sound of thorough undoing that Emily didn't ever remember him making for her. He increased the rhythm of his thrusts but remained incredibly gentle. He took the peak of her breast into his mouth, suckling her while his free hand mapped the curves of her body, his fingers tightly intertwined with hers.
Emily’s feet felt rooted to the carpet. She was experiencing a soul-deep hemorrhage with every second that passed. When they finished, the room filled with the sound of their ragged breathing.
"I love you," Sloane whispered again into the dim light.
Ryan nuzzled his nose affectionately against hers. He kissed her mouth with breathtaking tenderness. Then he lay down, pulling Sloane tightly against his side. He kissed her forehead, closing his eyes in complete contentment. They stayed exactly like that, their bodies seamlessly intertwined, his hand covering hers where it rested over his heart.
Standing in the dark hallway, Emily finally understood. Ryan might never actually say the words to Sloane. But words were cheap. She had just witnessed the truth. The gentle touches. The unguarded adoration in his voice, as if he could never get enough of her. He didn't turn away after sex; he wanted her close, continuing to touch her, continuing to hold her. That was love.
A desperate sob fought to claw its way up Emily's throat. She turned and fled down the hallway, moving toward the front door as quickly as her enormous belly allowed, trying desperately not to make a sound.
