His Greatest Redemption [REUPLOADED]

65

Samantha

I never really had the chance to think about the day I'd get married, because truthfully, that scenario was completely out of the question. Growing up, I watched my father pawn at my sister like she was anything but human, prepared to marry her off to some asshole who, in the end, would end up benefiting him more than her.

Whether or not the guy he gave my sister to treated her right wasn't my father's concern.

I thought weddings were a were a waste of time, but I wasn't the type of person to make decisions and generate opinions based on other peoples experiences, and so watching my parents toxic relationship build over the course of my whole childhood never really had any affect on my opinion about marriage. I was too worried about other things to pay any attention to their bullshit, because how they acted was normal to me.

It was all I knew.

But I was old enough to realize that my father and his wife were just fucked up. They had no love for each other, no respect, nothing besides the rotting feeling of hate. He loathed her and she couldn't stand being around him. Sometimes if he was around too long, she'd use more than usual. He made her uneasy. Unhappy. Scared.

My view on marriage had nothing to do with them, but the mere fact that I didn't think there'd ever be anyone I'd actually want to get married to. Someone who, when I thought about being with for the rest of my life, didn't make me want to flee in the opposite direction.

Soulmates existed, and how many times in your life will you get the chance to say you've found yours for the first time? That you've found your person?

Once.

You only get to say that once, even if you come across multiple soulmates in your lifetime. The one you meet first, they'll be your first forever. Spade was that and so much more. He was my forever. My home. My safehaven. And I was supposed to be by his side, like he said, as his queen.

I could do that.

Our love wasn't anything similar to the mushy, comfortable shit demonstrated on TV. It was intense, so savage and overwhelming that it made my heart pound with adrenaline whenever I thought about it. We were just the right type of chaos for each other.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

He consumed every part of me, and if someone were to tear my chest open, there would be no heart there. The blood I'd bleed would have Spade's name all over it. My heart, however was locked away in a box that only Kade Luciano Vitali had access to. He was my poison, and there was no antidote.

But even despite all of that, I couldn't stop myself from shaking as droplets of water slipped down the cracks of my fingers and slid down the glass I was holding, leaking past the band of the large diamond pear-shaped engagement ring around my finger. I glanced down at it for what felt like the one hundredth time, and I was still stunned.

It was definitely the most expensive thing I'd ever been given, and the weight of it on my finger alone was unbelievable. It had a beautiful black gemstone in the center that was encircled around several diamonds that also adorned the band. It was so perfect, and I had no idea how Spade managed to get this to me in that matter of two days, but I loved it. Everytime I looked at my ring, it was as if a shot of novocaine was whooshing through my bloodstream, paralyzing me, much like how I felt whenever Spade was around me.

Chris Brown's "Under the Influence" was blasting through my house, though not loud enough to solidify my nerves. After hearing about the 'engagement', the guys did what they did best— threw a party and invited a whole bunch of people I didn't know. Spade wasn't a sociable person, but he loved the commotion parties brought with them.

I chewed on my lip nervously as I bounced my knee up and down, reaching for my phone again to check the time.

Only a few minutes had passed, but I couldn't find it in myself to actually get up from the treadmill and move. My skin was hot and clammy, my breaths were coming out in short gasps, and another wave of nausea was rolling in when Dove shoved through the gym doors, halting the minute her eyes found mine.

She shut the door behind her and rushed towards me, dropping her handbag on the floor as she crouched down. "Sam?" Her eyebrows pulled together. "What's wrong?"

"I..." My blood turned to slush. "I missed my period." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the tears almost started again. I licked my lips, tasting the saltiness as I scrunched my face up.

She straightened, a deep frown causing her eyebrows to dip. "How is that possible?" She murmured to herself. "You were just on your period the other day...right?"

"I was spotting, and I thought my period would eventually come. It didn't. I'm so fucking late, Dove." I wrapped my arms around my legs, drawing them in closer. In the few minutes that I'd been sitting in this gym, isolated, I took the time to run the dates over and over again in my head.

There was a small gasp. "You think you might be pregnant?"

I licked my lips again. "I don't know. I really don't, but I'm on birth control. I take that shit religiously." I could barely hear the music playing outside over the sound of my barely beating heart.

She reached out and rubbed my back. "It's okay, just breathe. How late are you?"

I looked up at her through my wet lashes, trying to get my chest to stop aching. "5 whole fucking weeks, if that app on my phone is right." I took another sip of water from my glass, ignoring the way my throat tightened as I swallowed. "This can't be happening." I closed my eyes, knowing I was seconds away from having a complete breakdown.

Or did I have one of those already? I couldn't fucking remember.

"Well we aren't about to assume and play the guessing game. If you're pregnant, you're gonna find out tonight." She reached down and grabbed her Prada handbag, digging inside of it for her iPhone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling Frankie so that he can go run to the store and get you some pregnancy tests." She dialed someone's number before pressing her phone to her ear and proppering her hand on her hip, tucking her handbag under her arm.

I didn't even have the energy to ask who Frankie was, or how Dove knew him, or if I could trust him.

"Yes? Hi, Frankie—" The gruff voice coming from the other line cut her off, causing Dove to pause and roll her eyes. "Francis, I mean. I need a favor."

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