Chapter 5: Chapter Five

Dante's POV

"Six weeks pregnant," I repeated.

The doctor nodded slowly, his curious gaze fixed on me. He must have been wondering why I was shocked instead of being happy at the news of becoming a father.

But all I felt was fury.

He continued, his voice just a little louder than a whisper. "She has been stressed, but we've managed to stabilize both mother and child for now."

Mother and child.

A bitter laugh almost slipped past my lips. My body stiffened, my skin was clammy. This wasn't part of my plan. This—this thing growing inside her—threatened to ruin everything.

I couldn't find my voice, so I just nodded, extending my sweaty hands to him for a meaningless handshake before the doctor left. The moment he was gone, my knees buckled, and I sank onto a bench in the hallway. My breathing came in sharp, shallow gasps as I tried to process this mess.

No. No. No. Elena can't be fucking pregnant.

The purpose of this sham marriage was to break her, punish her and make her feel the weight of her father's sin. She was nothing but a pawn, a tool to balance the scales of justice that has long been over. But now, with a child?

My grip tightened on the edge of the bench. My mind raced through different options. Should I abort the baby, get rid of it? Make sure she never carried it to term. A small push, a well timed accident, and this problem would disappear before she even knew about it.

Then another counter thought came in. I knew I had done a lot of cruel things for survival, but this? Killing an innocent child? That's inhumane and evil.

"No....I can't do that," I whispered absentmindedly. "The little creature is innocent."

Elena, however, was not.

And again, why should I be bothered about her pregnancy? The baby isn't mine and that doesn't mean I can't break her the way I want to. I'll proceed with my plans.

Elena Carter is mine to break.

Mine to punish.

And nothing was gonna stop that.

No one was gonna stop that.

I stood up, turning to leave but from the transparent glass I saw her stirring awake. I should still leave. Maybe one of my men can come stay with her. But I couldn't. I knew I needed to be the one to tell her.

I walked towards the door, stepping inside the hospital room, the pungent smell of antiseptic suffocating me.

I hated hospitals. The place traumatised me a lot.

My parents' who were barely alive when rushed into the hospital died, because of the negligence of the doctors on duty. It was a small private hospital nearest to the accident site and when they were supposed to be treated, we were told the doctors weren't on seat: they had gone out for dinner.

What kind of hospital would all the doctors go out for dinner all at once?

My parents grew weaker, lost a lot of blood and passed away even before those bastards could begin treatment. Maybe they wouldn't have died if they had been timely treated.

Years later, I made sure the hospital went bankrupt and now it was no longer functioning. That's how much I'm willing to go for anyone who dares cross me. And Elena, is no exception.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath and the emotions swirling inside me. I strolled towards her, and stopped just in front of her—her eyes were filled with fear, her body pale. She looked.... quite different from the woman who had gotten married to me just this morning.

The moment she noticed me, her expression shifted from exhaustion into something else, something darker. Hatred? Annoyance?

Good. Let her hate me.

But she didn't say anything. Good. I like that she could read the room, because I was already on the edge and the last thing I wanted to hear was her disgustingly sweet voice.

I reached out, trying to touch her forehead to test her reaction in a mocking concern but before I could, she slapped my hands away. The slap was a bit hard for someone who had collapsed. I could literally feel all her emotions —pain, anger and frustration in it. Really, now. I was trying to be nice and this is the way she treats me.

"Don't you ....dare," she snapped, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "Don't you dare touch me with those filthy hands of yours. "It's not your damn business whether I live or not."

Filthy hands? She was feisty. I like it. It would make the process of breaking her more.... exciting, more satisfying.

My jaw tightened as I raised my left hand, showing her the wedding band. "Have you forgotten, Elena. We are married. You belong to me now."

"Belong to you?" A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Is that what this is all about? You stalked me, tricked me into marrying you, all for what? I want to know." Her voice rising as she sat up, her arms crossed.

I was silent. The tension thick between us. She was desperate for an explanation, but she would get nothing from me. No. I won't give her to luxury. Let her keep being speculative, keep being restless.

Something unreadable that made me hesitate for a brief moment.

But just as quickly as it came, my heart hardened and I reminded myself of one single goal that had kept me awake through those cold nights, and the night when my parents' dying face haunted my dream.

My lips curled into a smirk. "You need to get some rest, wifey," I murmured, my voice mocking. "But just so you know you're in this marriage to suffer. We aren't partners. No. I'm your master and I do with you, whatever I please."

She sighed, her fingers curling into the blanket. "I'm in this marriage to suffer? For what exactly?" Her expression had shifted —she was no longer defiant, instead her voice was now trembling, and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Don't you think I should know? I married you because I thought I’d finally be safe, but you—you’re worse than them."

Her words tugged at me, unsettling me so much. Yes. She trusted me. More than anyone else. She had married me for protection, and freedom but yet I was giving her the exact opposite of everything that I had promised. Here am I, proving to be worse than those she was running from.

I stepped closer to her, lifting her chin up and a smirk playing on my lips as I revelled in her pain. "You don't deserve to know. Because it won't change anything." She tried to free herself but she couldn't as I made sure to tighten my grip, not tight enough to hurt her but enough to hold her in place.

"I want a divorce," she spat between gritted teeth. "Let's get a divorce, you bastard."

"Divorce?" I left her grip, shoving my hand, deep into my pocket. "Divorce," I repeated, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "Do you really think you can divorce me so easily? Don't waste your time trying. No lawyer in this country would even take up your case. Get ready to be my prisoner."

She didn't say anything, all she did was fix me with a murderous glare.

Then I turned away, attempting to go outside. "I suggest you stop wasting your energy challenging me. You would need it to protect that baby."

Before I could take a step, her voice stopped me. "What baby?"