Chapter 75 Bewitched
CHAPTER 75: Bewitched
Vera
I saw his hands reach out, and my breath ceased in my throat. My heart beat wildly in my chest, my body tingling with anticipation.
His hands didn't settle on my waist; instead, his palms reached to my front, and flattened against the velvet covering my lower abdomen…the pelvic area the doctor had discussed.
“What are you doing?” My voice came out breathy.
“Do you really want the answer to that question, Vera?” he replied, his voice a dark, gravelly rasp. “The doctor did say to be mindful of your comfort,” he continued in a thickened voice. “I’m simply ensuring the fit is correct.”
Everything else seemed to vanish.There was an intensity and fire in his gaze that made my knees weak.
Suddenly the spell was shattered when the curtain rustled. Ivanka stepped back in.
She stopped briefly, a brief embarrassed look on her face. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”
Silas didn't make a move to step away. I flushed with embarrassment.
Ivanka recovered, shifting back into professional mode.
“The emerald is definitely the winner, wouldn't you agree? I’m certain of Mrs Rutherford turning heads at the event.”
Finally, Silas stepped back, his mask of indifference snapping back into place instantly.
“I think we're done here. Pack it all,” he ordered. “Every piece she tried on today, including the one she is wearing and the others she’s yet to try on. We're taking everything.”
I looked on without saying a word, but I could feel that my husband was pissed at something.
The ride home was quiet, but the air felt lighter… less hostile, yet still tense.
We reached the mansion and the car stopped, but Silas didn't move to get out, instead the driver opened my side of the door.
”Thank you,” I looked at him. “For today…for everything.”
“Don't get used to it,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual bite. “Go inside. Someone will be coming to see you shortly.”
My brows snapped together. ”Someone?” I started to ask, but he simply signaled the driver to move.
I watched the car disappear from sight before I walked up the stone steps and through the front door, making my way into the living room, feeling the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to me.
Claudia was there, pacing with a phone pressed to her ear. The conversation she was having was so intense that she was yet to register my presence.
Her voice was raised in what sounded like a heated, jagged argument.
“Hell would freeze over before I let you do that!” she hissed into the receiver. “I'm warning, if you try to—” She stopped abruptly when she saw me, her eyes widening. Promptly, she ended the call, and tucked the phone away, her face instantly smoothing into her usual, look of sharp edged teasing and smugness.
“Oh. You’re back.”
She noticed the envelope in my hand. “Well? How did the doctor’s appointment go?” She raised a perfectly groomed dark brow, crossing her arms across her chest.
“He came,” I blurted out.
Confusion crossed her features, then disbelief.
“You’re telling me that Silas Orion Rutherford actually left his work and managed to sit through a doctor’s appointment with you?”
I didn't answer. I simply nodded, then handed her the ultrasound pictures.
She took it and opened it, her usual mask of teasing arrogance slipping. Claudia stared at the tiny, grainy image, and for the first time since I met the fiery Rutherford beauty, she became solemn, emotional…almost wistful.
She traced the outline of the baby with a quiet, unexpected reverence.
“A son,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly soft. But I could detect something else in her voice. Something I couldn't place at the time. “My brother actually has a son.” Her eyes met mine with a rare, quiet sincerity and respect. “I guess congratulations and thank you are in order.”
I smiled stiffly, feeling sick to the pit of my stomach. I was lying to her face.
“He looks... Well, he looks like a Rutherford. Heaven help us all,” she smiled softly, handing back the pictures. “Especially if he turns out like his father.”
I could almost imagine it: a little boy who was an exact replica of Silas.
Claudia looked past me as a line of maids began carrying in the boxes from Ivanka’s.
Her eyebrows shot up. “You went shopping?” Her eyes widened when she saw the brand name on the boxes. “Ivanka’s? Don't tell me your husband took you there? Personally?”
I nodded. “He said I needed a change of wardrobe,” I muttered.
She let out a dry, sharp laugh. “Vera, my brother hasn't stepped foot in a clothing boutique in five years.”
But he took me to Laurent.
“He has people for that. Even for his own clothes. If he took you there himself, then you must be really special to him,” she leaned against the sofa, a smirk returning to her lips.
A maid appeared from the hallway. “Excuse me, Madam.”
“Yes?”
“A team from the Medici spa has arrived for your massage. And your new dietitian is waiting in the study.”
I frowned, very confused at the information. I didn’t remember booking a spa session, nor did I hire a new kitchen staff.
“Are sure you're not mistaken.”
“No. They were sent by the boss.”
They must be the people he was talking about.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely audible as the maid walked away.
“I think you might have actually bewitched him. This is too good to be true,” Claudia laughed.
"It's not like that, Claudia,” I began, knowing the reality between us.
“You have him good, sis,” she teased, walking toward the stairs. “He’s really going all out. A dietitian, a massage team, and a new wardrobe? Deny it all you want. But it's the truth.”
I watched her go, finally alone in the foyer. I stood there, surrounded by boxes of clothes I didn't feel I deserved.
Just as I turned to head up, Elena appeared, handing me a massive, overflowing bouquet of white lilies.
“These arrived for you.”
I took it, surprised and confused.
There was no card. No note. I stared at the flowers, confused.
Who would send these?