The Superstar's Runaway Wife With Triplets

her teeth clenched against a gasp. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. It was too soon for this. It was a warning. A punishment fo

pilling a sliver of dim hallway light across the floor. Julian stood in the doorway, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was a dark, imposing shadow. He walked into the room, his movements unnatu

er cramp seized her, and she winced, her hand pressing against her stomach. He saw the movement. A cruel smil

wn, his face close to hers. The stench of whiskey was overpowering. It churned her already queasy stomach. She turned her head away, a wave

ke a twisted, possessive desire. "You took something from me, Chloe," he whispered, his voic

k pajama top. A button popped off, skittering across the hardwood floor. "No, Julian, stop!" she cried, her hands flying up to push again

face. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by an even colder cruelty. "This is you

makeshift rope and bound her wrists together, lashing them to the ornate headboard. Her ability to fight back was gone. Tears fin

As he violated her, Chloe's mind detached. She stared at a crack in the plaster on the ceiling, focusing on its jagged lines. She poured every ounce of her consciousness into her womb, creating a mental shield, a silent, desperate pr

ants. He didn't look at her. He walked to the door, pausing only to untie the sweater from her raw wrists. "You're disgusting," he mut

f bed and stumbled to the bathroom. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it, scrubbing at her skin until it was red and r

ly. The cramping had stopped. She looked at her reflection in the fogged-up mirror. Her eyes were swol

tion, to the three souls nestled inside her. "I swear on