Chapter Sixty Three
Vanessa’s POV
“Don’t even think about taking my car!” Damien bellowed from the top of the stairs.
I furiously threw open the front door and clutched my purse
+25 BONUS
“Oh, you mean that piece of junk in the driveway?” I screamed back. “I’d rather walk to the mall at four fucking, months pregnant, you unchivalrous asshole!”
The door slammed behind me with a resounding thud.
I stormed down the driveway, groaning in fury and frustration. That obsessive man had kept me up half the night arguing about Bonnie and his lameass car.
If I saw his face for a second longer, I’d claw his evo
out.
I smirked as I strutted past the cracked headlight and the scratched paint of Damien’s car. It felt good to put that self righteous bitch in her place yesterday.
Out of sight of the house, I slowed to a stroll–there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d walk so far in my limited edition Jimmy Choo’s. I dug through my purse for my phone to call a cab and smiled when I saw the fat envelope beside it.
Yesterday, I pawed off a few things around the house. I’d paid off my credit cards, and I had enough left over for a shopping spree and hair treatment today.
If Damien wouldn’t pay his dues, I’d take them.
eyes
As I neared a street corner, a sleek black Rolls Royce slowed to take the bend. My eyes widened as I saw Maximilian seated regally through the open back window.
“You’ve reached Elite Chauffeurs-”
I cut the call and stepped onto the rough tar road.
The driver slammed on brakes when he saw me, but he wasn’t fast enough. I threw myself onto the hood, releasing a bloodcurdling scream as I let myself fall to the ground. Car doors flung open as I clutched my belly and called tears to my eyes.
“Dios mío!” The driver let out with a thick accent. “Señorita, are you alright?”
Maximilian crouched to examine me.
“She’s pregnant.” He said, voice laced with worry. “Mr. Cruz, help me carry this lady into the car. We’ll take her to the fearest hospital.”
This lady? If this pompous jerk was too high and mighty to remember me after the exhibition, I’d use it to my advantage.
I grabbed his sleeve and shook my head.
“No.” My voice quivered desperately. “I need to see my obstetrician to make sure the baby is healthy. Please, take me to my private hospital.”
Maximilian nodded and then the men, both in their early fifties, lifted me into the car. I played the role of a polite yet frightened mother as I enjoyed the luxury and fuss on the ride to my hospital.
The moment the doctor’s door closed behind me, the pitiful expression fell from my face.
1/3
Chapter Sixty Three
“Ugh, what a drag.” I muttered, then pulled out the envelope from my purse. Thad plans for this money, but I’ll consider this an investment.
“Vanessa, please lie down.” My obstetrician said, concerned. “We need to-”
+25 BONUS
I tossed him the envelope, and he caught it with surprise. The young doctor opened it, mouth falling open as he pulled out the thick stack.
I plopped myself into his chair. “I’m sure studying for over a decade wracks up the student debt. How would you like to make some extra money?”
He stared at the cash, swallowing. “Do you need me to fake paternity test? You’ll be surprised at how many requests I get.”
I tucked that nugget of information in for later and explained what I needed from him.
When we left his office, my face was crestfallen.
Maximilian and his driver stood as they saw us approach, eyeing me anxiously.
“Vanessa has Gestational Placental Microvascular Disruption, also known as GPMD–an extremely serious and rare condition.” The obstetrician said gravely. “The physical trauma of the accident caused vascular tears in the placenta.”
Maximilian’s face turned ashen as he listened to the doctor.
“I’m unfamiliar with this condition.” He said. “What are the implications for the baby?”
The doctor listed our agreed upon symptoms. “GPMD puts the fetus at risk of intrauterine growth restriction, preterm birth, and placental abruption, to name only a few.
I covered my mouth to stifle a cry as he spoke.
Maximilian’s forehead creased. “Are there any treatments to fix these tears?”
“The mother will need imported prenatal anticoagulants, specialized monitoring machines, and high–risk check- ups for the rest of the pregnancy.” The doctor pursed his lips. “These treatments are ongoing and costly.”
They were a complete hoax. But I could see Maximilian’s concern–he was buying every word.
“Money is of no consequence.” He said, sincerely. “I will offer you financial compensation to pay for the treatments.”
“I can’t even feed us, nevermind afford the transport costs to the hospital.” I cried, dabbing at my eyes. “The baby’s father abandoned us and no one will hire a pregnant woman, even with a degree in jewelry design from a reputable college. My poor baby is doomed.”
Maximilian’s ears perked at my words.
“I can offer you an interview at Crown Luxe Jewelry Group. He said, taking the bait. “If your portfolio is impressive and you pass the interview, you could earn enough to support yourself and your baby.”
I caressed my belly, eyes glimmering. “Thank you for the opportunity and your kindness, Mr….”
“Maximilian Edwards.” He said, handing me a business card. “I deeply apologize for the distress I’ve caused you, Vanessa.”
I walked out of the hospital, pleased with the success of the first phase of my scheme. My mind raced, weighing my options and calculating my next move–passing that interview.
2/3
Chapter Sixty Three
Then it hit me.
1 dug my phone from my purse and dialed a number.
“I need you to do some digging into Rosemary.” I said, a devious smile curling my lips.
