Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (11 page)

BOOK: Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint)
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I try to take the papers from him and he snatches the binder away. His eyes widen in surprise. Until this moment he saw me as an impressionable young woman. He hasn’t lived as much life as I have- even my innocence is jaded. He looks at me with an expression of disbelief and a small amount of grudging respect.

“Sign it, Miss Regal. I will throw you to the streets.
Every time you get back up I’ll knock you down farther than you were previously. No matter how long it takes, I will make you hit bottom. Save us all a lot of grief and stow your pride and sign the contract.”

Mr. Daniel Whittenhower Sr. and I lock eyes. My green
eyes glare into his blue. I know that Grant, Ade, and Whitt have his eyes, but theirs are a soft sea shade; right now his are as dark as the pits of hell with all the horrid things he has planned for my future. I don’t need a psychic to know that I will not win. I do as he says- I stow my pride. I harshly grab the expensive looking pen from his fingertips.

I do the
stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I sign the paper without reading it first. I know that whatever it says there will be no negotiating between us. I have nowhere to go but the streets thanks to them. I roughly sign the paper. The pen-tip skates across the document snagging as I gash the paper.

“Thank you, Miss Regal. I will leave you to discuss your duties. Kristal is preparing your room for you. I had my wife and Adelaide pick out things for your stay. Welcome to Whittenhower Estates, Regina
,” He says proudly as he stands. He presents his hand and I shake it firmly.

I
‘ll find something to wipe the smug from his face. I have at least nine months to accomplish it- I’ll bide my time.

I stand frozen in shock in the middle of a room that at any other occasion I would find fascinating. The only sound I hear is my labored breath and the rapid tattoo my heart
is impressing inside my chest.

“I’m sorry, Regi
na. Please sit with me and we’ll talk. You aren’t going to like what I have to tell you.” Grant’s voice is somber.

I
instinctually know that he’s telling the truth. Growing up as I have, I’ve learned to read people. The naive don’t live long in my neighborhood. I can tell that Grant isn’t smug and gloating as his father is right now. It helps me relax and release the tension that has been with me since my father’s death. I have no other options than the one I’m living right this very minute. I accept my circumstances. It’s all I can do.

I follow Grant to a seating area and pick out a
Cordova
n
leather chair. I rub my hands down the buttery smooth arms thinking how it’s the color of dried blood. I choose the chair because I want to face Grant while we talk. I didn’t want him to be within touching distance. When he’s too close to me my mind goes hazy and I don’t react as I should.

He clears his throat several times and still he doesn’t speak. We sit for what feels like hours in total silence. My mind reels as I come up with
scenarios about what my “duties” are. I looked up what surrogacy meant. I know it’ll mean doctor’s appointments, growing his child inside of me, and ultimately giving my child up at birth. The agony behind my eyes returns as the tears refuse to fall. I take a deep breath- one right after another trying to calm my emotions.

“This will not be a traditional surrogacy.
It’s why my father went about this as he did. It isn’t legal in that way. However it isn’t illegal.” He stresses the word illegal and I begin to sweat.
“No pretense, Grant. Just say it and get it over with. It’s too late now, isn’t it?” I glare at him- loathing him.

“The child you’ll carry
be yours and mine, but no one will know it. As soon as you’re pregnant Cora will announce her pregnancy. The child will be born here and everyone will think she birthed it. Surrogacy will not work, neither will adoption. My father wanted his legacy to remain in the Whittenhower name. It had to be between a married couple and he forbids my divorce. In essence, the contract you just signed is to give up all your rights to any children born between you and me. It’s also a confidentiality contract. You will never be able to speak of this with anyone who isn’t already privy to the agreement.”

He looks at me sadly and it annoys me. I lean forward in my chair and pin him with my stare. He flinches as if s
truck by the force of my gaze.


So, let me get this straight. I’ll bear you a child and you’ll take it from me and that’s it.” I say with incredulity. 

“No,” he says so quietly I can hardly make out the word. “It’s a five-year-agreement.” He puts his
head in his hands and groans.

“What if I can’t have kids? Maybe you should have tested me like you failed to
do with Cora.” I say snottily.

“It’s a five-year-agreement. You have to try for those five years unless you have a medical ailment.” He rests his head on his knee and I can tell that it only gets worse from here.
The lost expression on his face makes me scared to hear any more.

“It’s not just one kid is it? It’s however many I can pop out in five years?” I mumble in shock
with the realization that if I’m a very fertile person I’m handing these freaks my children. I think I’m going to be sick. The back of my hand covers my mouth trying to hold the nausea at bay.

“Yes,” he
groans out. He sounds like he’s going to be sick too.

“I don’t want to say this because I know it will incite you. Every child will net you a million dollars. I know that you won’t take money for selling your children. I wouldn’t want you to. But my father doesn’t think like we do, nor does Cora. I did set up an account for your services that they don’t know about. And it isn’t Whittenhower money. It’s money I’ve earned working. It isn’t tainted by my father.
Look at it as a thank you. I know you will be helpful to my mother and Adelaide and Whitt. You’ll be good for us- a grounding force. I’ll only be able to access the account to deposit money. It’s your account. I also paid off your Mother’s medical expenses with my own money- not my Father’s. I understand you better than you think, Regina.”

I fall back against the chair in disbelief. I don’t know if I
can do this. I start to panic, rapidly sucking in air between my clenched teeth.

“You can do this, Regina.” Grant says as if reading my mind. “I don’t want to cut you off from your future either. You can go to college until your pregna
ncy is noticeable and then we’ll work something out with the Dean so that you may continue here at home. You’re extremely bright and have a lot to offer. I won’t harm your future. Had I known this was to happen I wouldn’t have allowed Adelaide to bring you to dinner. I’m so sorry,” he pleads.

“And your apology and gifts of money are supposed to make it right?” I seethe. I don’t scream the words even though I want t
o. Instead I get deadly quiet.

“No, nothing will ever make this right for either of us,” he cries back at me.

“You could have stood up to him and told him no,” I yell at Grant.

“And you don’t think I did that?” He yells right back at me. “I fought him. It didn’t matter. I’d think you’ve learned that lesson by now. My father does as he wishes. You either comply or he drives right through you. You have to accept defeat and try to make the best of it,” he says sadly. 

“I’ll never accept defeat. It’s not in my nature to lie down and die. He’ll regret this, Grant. I promise you.”

“I know,” he grins at me. “I’m counting on it. I’m counting on my father underestimating your drive, Regina.” He smiles at me fondly with glittering eyes.

His beautiful face charms me. The hope in his eyes traps me. And I hate him for it.

“So life as I know it, the life that I
’ve worked so hard to build for myself, is over,” I say blankly.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Regina.
Don’t be angry with me, but I knew that you’d want Fate with you. She signed a confidentiality agreement of her own this morning so that she may keep in contact with you. I want you to maintain your friendships and your schooling. I, however, do not want you to interact with Roman Alexander. He is an absolute no. I hope that after the five years are over that you’ll remain with me and not seek him out.”

“What, like I am some kind of IVF Mis
tress or something? Grant, you’re married and I’m not your Mistress.” Grant cringes at the venom in my tone.

“When’
s my first doctor’s appointment?” I say wanting to get to the heart of the matter. If I’m to be an incubator for the Whittenhower offspring, I may as well get it started. I’ll try to remain detached. It isn’t my child even though it’s my egg- it’s Cora and Grant’s child. I’ll have to repeat this mantra constantly for the next five years.

“Regina,” he breathes out with regret. “There will be a doctor who makes house calls and a midwife. You will not step foot into a hospital since it will be incrim
inating. Everyone has to think it’s Cora’s child.”

“How then?”
My eyes bug out in confusion. All the information I could find said that it was a complicated procedure. I can’t fathom how they could do it here unless they’ve installed their own clinic. It wouldn’t surprise me. The rich do as they please.

“In a bed, Regina.
Our children will be made the old fashioned way.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

I have the decorum not
to run from the room, but I do leave rather swiftly.

I don’t want to face Ad
elaide with her knowing that I’m to be her brother’s mistress- whore. It’s one thing to sell your body on the street to survive. Not only am I selling my body, I’m selling my unborn children as well. I’m worse than a whore. They do it to survive another day on this earth. Grant is right: I will never take payment for my children. I’m doing this for my future at the expense of my children. I think I’m going to be sick.

I rush to the powder room that’
s just off the dining room. I barely make it to the toilet before the dry heaves start. Now moisture floods my eyes. It stings like acid after concentrating in my ducts for weeks. It isn’t a real cry, so it doesn’t count. I gain no cathartic release from it. Psychology or not, no one can stop tears from rolling uncontrollably down their cheeks as they retch into a toilet. It’s an impossibility.

Midway through a heave I idly wonder if Grant is gagging over what his father and wife are making us do.
He’s a whore, too.

I wash my
face and promise myself that I’ll do this on my terms. I’ll find something that Grant will stand up for. Naively, I wonder if the birth of his children will garner him a backbone to stand up to his wife and father- doubtful. I just have to find something that he values more than money.

I have the ability to be ruthless and bru
tal. I’ve always held it in. I’m a good person and I will do good things, but that doesn’t mean that my mind doesn’t know how to preform those evil acts. It’s a choice. I will be ruthless to survive my stay at Whittenhower Estates.

“Regina,” is called out behind
me as I leave the powder room.

“Cora,” I say snidely.

“Mrs. Whittenhower,” Cora says with obvious annoyance and haughty arrogance. “You’re an employee- nothing more. Do not get visions of you and Mr. Whittenhower falling in love and running off. It’ll never happen.” She smirks at me and looks me over from head to toe. The expression on her pinched face says that she finds me lacking.

“I believe that since you
r husband will be fucking me in his bed that it’s a bit too formal to call him Mr. Whittenhower, Cora.” I stress her name on purpose.

I blame her more than anyone else- even Grant’s father. I feel bad for her inability to have children, but I doubt she even wants them other than to secure her hold on the family fortune.

“Cora, don’t look at me with that expression. If you find me ugly than why would you want to raise a child as your own that will undoubtedly look just like me?” I get into her face. My four years at Hillbrook taught me some lessons other than academia. I can’t let her see the smallest fissure in my resolve or she will pounce on me.

“Your vulgarity isn’t surprising, Regina. And highly distasteful,” she says snidely. “You’
re an employee and you will call me Mrs. Whittenhower, Regina.” She says my name distastefully.

“Cunt,” I hiss underneath my breath. “This poor, white trash will be contributing half of your child’s DNA,” I
taunt her and she ignores me. She continues to talk as if I hadn’t just called her the c-word.

“I don’t care what you
call Grant while you’re availing yourself to him, but in my presence only Mr. Whittenhower will fall from your lips. Do you understand me? I’m the one who will pay you,” she threatens.

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