Page 42 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

A cold shock of horror rushes through me as he spits the words out, with more venom than any of the curses he has thrown my way in the time I’ve known him.

My eyes widen, and I shake my head, my first instinct to deny, deny, deny. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about⁠—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he snarls, stalking toward me, eyes not moving from mine for an instant. “That doctor who came to your house—someone saw him when he arrived when we were staking the place out. I thought he was just looking over you, but…” He shakes his head slowly. “He was confirming your pregnancy, wasn’t he?” he demands, closing the distance between us, shoving his face close to mine.

I draw back in terror. I’ve never seen him this angry in my life. It’s not the kind of anger where he’s punching walls, trying to intimidate me, it’s something worse than that. Something that seems to rise from somewhere deep inside of him, something I don’t recognize, can’t control.

“I…I don’t know…”

“Yes, you fucking do!” He yells in my face and I nearly jump out of my skin, tears pricking my eyes.

I hate how useless I feel. I should get to my feet and fight him on this, scream at him that he doesn’t know a thing about me and even if I was pregnant, what business would that be of his? I owe him nothing after the way he treated me, and I’m not going to let him try to scare me into feeling guilty about this. But instead, I just sit there on the bed, knees tucked up to my chest, too terrified to say so much as a word.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” he mutters, beginning to pace, hands twisting in front of him. “I can’t fucking believe this. You fucked my father, Julia?”

I don’t reply. I don’t need to. He has already made his mind up.

And it’s the truth, anyway. If he really intends to hold me here for as long as he says he will, then there’s no way that he won’t find out eventually. Maybe it’s better to get it out in the open now, though the thick atmosphere of fury in the room seems to suggest otherwise.

“You fucking whore,” he mutters, his voice edged with snarling rage. “You fucking whore, Julia. I should have known you would do something like this. Just desperate to use our family any way you can, hmm? Was that your game? Make sure he can’t get rid of you by getting yourself pregnant?”

I’m frozen as I listen to him speak, pure, unrelenting terror keeping me pinned to the spot. I know I should fight him on this, but I can’t. And anything I say right now, I know that it will just be twisted to pieces to try and justify whatever he’s planning next.

“Well, he’s dead,” he tells me bluntly, shoving his face close to mine again. “And trust me, I probably did that child a favor, sparing them from a life with him as a father.”

He sneers slightly, and I almost want to point out that he’s shitting on himself as much as Antonio—that he’s the product of that same fatherhood. But I know that he’s not thinking clearly right now, that he’s just throwing out whatever he can because he wants to hurt me, because he wants me to think that I owe him something because I let my feelings for another man turn into something more.

“There are plenty of men who would kill you for this, you know,” he tells me, and he’s almost mild in his tone—which makes it even more terrifying.

I stare at him. “Are you going to?” I ask. It’s almost a dare, something I’m willing to risk if it means getting out of this mess. But I have to live for my baby. My child is the most important thing right now, as hard as it is to believe.

Andreo eyes me for a long moment, as though considering his answer—and then shakes his head. “No.”

I breathe a sigh of relief as he draws back. That’s something, at least. Even if Antonio is—I can’t even think it, not even now, after days have passed. But even if he is gone, I still have a duty to protect his child in any way I can, and that means looking out for myself, as hard as it might be to do that right now.

“I’m going to need an heir, after all.”

It feels like cold water has been dumped over my head. My hands are shaking as I try to muster a response, and Andreo just stands there, watching me, as though enjoying the terror that’s coursing through every inch of me at the sound of those words coming out of his mouth.

“What—what are you talking about?”

He lifts his chin. “I’m going to need someone to pass down this business to,” he replies bluntly. “Once I have it consolidated. And this kid, they’re going to be my sibling. Might as well choose someone I have a blood relation to.”

“No,” I plead with him, finally finding my voice again. “Andreo, listen to me, this child⁠—”

“My child.”

I tense my hands in the sheets. The way he’s talking, it’s like the choice has already been made, and the idea that this might already have slipped past the edges of my control is more than I can take.

“They’re not your child, Andreo. They never will be.”

He smirks slightly. “We’ll see.”

“No,” I protest, pushing myself upright, getting to my feet, cold horror grasping at me at the thought of what he’s saying. “No, I’m not—this child, they’re not yours, Andreo. They never will be. I’m not letting you⁠—”

And then, all of a sudden, he grabs my face, sinking his fingers into my skin and silencing me in an instant. My blood runs cold, and I realize that there’s nothing I can say here, nothing that will get him to see sense.

“I don’t think you understand,” he snarls, lip curling with disdain. “You might have gotten yourself knocked up by the first man you met, but I’m not like you. I’m an honorable person. And I’m going to make sure this child has the life they deserve. Understand?”