Second Vows Adored by the Billionaire novel Chapter 11

She didn't shout or interrogate him in public. Because she refused to resemble Anita, who had made herself a spectacle.

Eloise played the role of a restrained, dignified victim.

The calmer she remained, the more guilt would hollow him out from the inside, and the more he would suffer when she finally walked away.

*****

On the way home, Victor held Eloise's hand the entire time, his gaze fixed on her as though his attention could keep her from thinking.

The calmer Eloise was, the louder the panic beat inside his chest.

Anita bit her lip and complained repeatedly about discomfort, claiming her waist hurt, her stomach hurt, her head hurt.

Victor, for the first time, didn't even look at her.

The moment they arrived, Anita stormed into her room and slammed the door.

Victor followed Eloise into the bedroom.

Eloise changed into pajamas, lay down, and looked at him standing there stiffly.

"It's late," she said in her usual soft voice. "Go shower and sleep."

"Eloise." Victor's eyes were dark and uncertain.

His voice came out rough. "Tonight was hosted by Mr. Dean from Seafort Group. He arranged for a model to drink with me. I lost my sense of boundaries, and that is on me.

"Ms. Sterling tried to stop me from drinking too much, and she scratched me by accident. Then the model collapsed and started foaming at the mouth, and her people filed a report. That's all it is. Don't overthink it."

"I understand," Eloise replied quietly. "I trust you, and I trust Anita."

Victor froze.

From the moment he saw Eloise outside the station, he had rehearsed countless outcomes in his mind.

He had prepared himself to endure any punishment she threw at him because she would definitely discover the truth.

He had not prepared for this. Eloise wasn't even mad at him.

Her calm was more frightening than any anger, especially with the scratches on his face.

A strange unease slid across Victor's chest, and the sense of impending disaster grew heavier with every second.

Eloise didn't ask a single question. She simply said she trusted him, and that made him feel exposed and unstable, as though the ground beneath his feet had begun to shift.

He stepped closer and grabbed her hand again, stubbornly attempting to force the argument into existence.

"Eloise, if you want to yell, if you want to hit me, do it. Tonight was my fault—"

Eloise withdrew her hand calmly and raised her fingers to his face instead, tracing the red scratches with a light, careful touch.

"It's already over," she said. "I have an ointment that helps with scars. I use it when I get scratched. I'll get it for you."

She got up and went to retrieve it.

"And you?" Eloise asked.

Victor pressed his fingers to his brow. "What do you mean, me? I live here. This is my home. You're thinking too much again."

He smiled and pinched her cheek lightly, as though the gesture could restore normalcy. "Eloise, I'm your husband. That is a fact that will never change."

Victor took her silence as proof that her calm had been an act, and that she was still attached to him. His panic eased just enough for him to breathe.

Before Eloise could speak again, he turned and went into the bathroom.

Eloise watched his back and pressed her lips together in quiet restraint.

Victor, what I asked about was your heart.

At dawn, the villa filled with Beatrice's piercing cries.

The moment Victor heard Beatrice crying, he sprang out of bed and rushed into Anita's room, scooping the girl into his arms.

"Daddy," Beatrice sobbed, clinging to him, "are you and Mommy having a baby boy? You don't want me anymore, do you?"

"Sweetheart," Victor soothed gently, "who told you that?"

Anita grabbed Victor's sleeve, her eyes red. Her voice trembled.

"Victor, Eloise is frightening. She told Beatrice that I'm pregnant, and she said we won't want her anymore. Beatrice was terrified."

Victor frowned. "Eloise said that?"