Chapter 3 - The Shattered Glass
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Grant turned his head toward me, his smile dropping instantly into a mask of pure annoyance.
“What is it now, Natalie?” he asked, keeping his tone hushed so the guests wouldn't hear.
“I’m having severe pain,” I rasped, cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. “My back... my stomach. I just need to rest in the bedroom for a few minutes.”
Grant took two steps closer, leaning in so his mouth was inches from my ear.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he hissed. “Every time the attention isn’t on you, you create a crisis.”
“I’m not—”
“We are ten minutes away from serving dinner,” Grant snapped, his voice rising enough to catch the attention of Robert Lang and Dana Brooks nearby. “You’ve been resting all week! Stop making a scene!”
“I can’t stand up, Grant!” I cried out, reaching for a nearby chair.
What happened next lasted less than three seconds, but it changed everything.
Grant’s patience snapped. He reached out to grab my arm to pull me upright, but his grip was harsh, and he shoved my shoulders back with brutal force.
“Get a grip!” he barked.
My foot caught on the chair leg. I lost my balance entirely, my hip slamming hard against the corner of the marble island before my seven-months-pregnant body hit the hardwood floor with a sickening thud.
Gasps exploded across the room.
“Natalie!” Dana screamed.
May you like
A sharp, unbearable agony flared through my lower back and stomach. I curled onto my side, wrapping both arms tightly around my unborn child.
“My baby...” I sobbed into the floorboards. “Oh God, my baby...”
