ILLICIT DESIRES | 18 +

20: The Aftermath

HELENA

Slanderous Intentions linger in the Air.

The atmosphere is thick with tension, interspersed by my poor baby's cries. Each wail drives the Drakon within me closer to the surface. I was not raised to kill. Yet my husband claims it's in my blood to be violent.

And perhaps it is — when my child is harmed.

The rage in my eyes is almost superficial. I want to behead her, just as my ancestors would have done. Her audacity — her pretending ignorance and hollow apologies — makes me want to throw her at my husband's mercy.

But then I remember. She is pregnant.

I take a slow breath, searching for a way to get her out of this mess alive. I know my husband. If he finds out our daughter is hurt and crying because of her, he will kill her.

And I really want him to.

If she weren't carrying Roman's child, I would have already stepped aside and let him finish this bitch.

"When will she stop crying? Can't you pacify her? It's grating on my nerves," she snorts, rolling her eyes, acting so done, like my patience.

Annoyed, my hands twitching with the urge to choke her.

I tell myself to calm down. That I'm not a murderer.

She needs to be put in her place — just not by my husband. He'd put her in a grave.

"Why is her leg red?" he asks, irritated, taking our daughter from my arms to inspect her.

His gaze locks with mine. His anger evident.

"What happened to my daughter?"

"Oh, that was me!" Margarita says. Her eyes skim my husband, shamelessly.

"I—I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt her, of course. It was just... a little accident."

She licks her lips and openly checks-out Antonio from head to toe before giving me a brief, knowing look. "Now I get why you have so many kids. With a man like that... I mean, who wouldn't want to be the baby machine for that kind of input?"

Before I can tell her that she is shameless, the situation spirals out of my control.

"What the hell happened?" Antonio roars in a thunderous voice. "Give me an answer!"

His outburst echoes through the room, shaking us both to our core. It jolts me out of my daze, but my mind is foggy; I don't know what to do next. I have a feeling she's going to die... like the universe predicted.

Before either of us can say anything, Lilly bursts in, an ice pack clutched in her hand. "I have," she says, but her words trail off as her gaze falls on Antonio, who is standing angrily in the middle of the living room.

"Come here," he commands in a deep, menacing voice, which makes Lilly hesitate and approach him. I tense up, my mind racing.

He's going to ask what happened — and she can't lie.

She wouldn't dare. If she did, he'd silence her for the rest of her life. But he wouldn't hurt me. If I lied, I could protect her.

Lilly hesitates, fear flickering across her face, as she takes a step forward and stops just in front of him. She glances at me, her eyes asking if she should tell the truth.

"What the hell happened?" His voice was sharp, deadly, cutting through the air like a blade and forcing her to look back at him. "Explain it!"

"Margarita spilled her tea," she blurts out, her gaze lowered.