Oops I Am My Bully's Bride

Chapter 10

“You… to the bedroom. The rest of you, out.”

Marceline turned toward the stairs, one hand still resting on the banister.

Her legs felt heavier than they had all evening.... Despite trying to see if she could dance while pregnant recently. She had pushed herself more than she could count.

She felt the weight of every word spoken downstairs sit on her shoulders like something she could not shrug off.

And as Victoria’s heels clicked sharply across the marble, she hurried forward and stepped directly into Marceline’s path, blocking the way withw her arms crossed on her chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Victoria asked, voice rising with sudden energy. “He clearly meant me. Not you. Don’t start pretending you’re the one he wants upstairs tonight.”

Marceline stopped. She did not try to move around her. Instead she looked past Victoria and straight at Adrian, who still stood near the bottom of the stairs with his hands in his pockets.

“Who did you mean?” she asked. The question came out quieter than she intended, but it still carried across the foyer.

Adrian’s mouth opened. For half a second the name “Marceline” seemed ready to leave his tongue. His eyes flicked from her face to Victoria’s expectant expression and then to the three women still lingering near the door. The moment passed.

“Victoria,” he said.

The single name landed flat but commanding.

Marceline’s shoulders dropped a fraction. She did not argue or demand an explanation. She simply turned away from both of them and started toward the front doors instead. Behind her the club women began moving as well, their earlier silence breaking into low, amused laughter.

“She actually thought it was her,” one of them said, not bothering to lower her voice.

“Pregnant and still reaching,” another added. “That’s almost sad.”

Victoria stayed exactly where she was, chin lifted, as if the exchange had confirmed something she already believed.

Adrian watched Marceline’s slow progress across the foyer. Something restless moved behind his eyes. He exhaled through his nose and spoke again before she could reach the handle.

“Wait.”

Marceline paused with her hand on the door but did not turn around.

“I feel merciful tonight,” he said. “You’re coming upstairs with me.”

She finally looked back over her shoulder. “Why?”

“Because I said so.” His tone left no room for discussion. “Victoria, you too.”

Victoria’s expression brightened at once. The three women from the club exchanged quick glances and slipped out the front doors without further comment, still smiling among themselves as the night air rushed in.

Marceline’s feet felt leaden as she climbed the stairs without a word. Each step reminded her of the dull ache in her lower back and the constant pressure of the babies shifting inside her. She kept her eyes on the carpet runner and tried not to listen to the soft, satisfied sound of Victoria’s heels following close behind.

Inside the master bedroom Adrian closed the door with a quiet click. He shrugged off the black leather jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. The room felt larger than usual and somehow colder despite the warm lighting.

Victoria moved closer to him immediately, sliding an arm around his waist as if she belonged there without question.

“Sit,” Adrian told Marceline, nodding toward the armchair near the window.

She sat because standing any longer felt impossible. Her hands rested on the arms of the chair. She kept her gaze fixed on the dark glass rather than on the bed, where Victoria was already settling in.

Victoria wasted no time. She leaned into Adrian, fingers trailing lightly along the front of his shirt, voice dropping into something softer and more intimate.

“You were tense all night,” she murmured. “I could feel it. Let me help with that.”

Adrian did not push her away.

He let her settle against him on the edge of the bed, one of his arms resting loosely around her shoulders. His eyes, however, stayed on Marceline.

“Comfortable over there?” he asked her, the question edged with something that was not kindness.

Marceline’s throat worked once before she answered. “Why am I here, Adrian?”

“So you can see exactly where you stand,” he replied. “No more confusion. No more quiet little requests that make everyone uncomfortable.”

Victoria smiled against his shoulder and pressed closer, clearly aware of the audience. Her hand moved in slow circles against his chest. Marceline’s fingers curled tightly against the fabric of the chair.

The room suddenly felt too warm. The soft sounds of Victoria shifting nearer to him filled the quiet in a way that made her stomach twist.

She wanted to stand and leave. She wanted to tell them both that none of this mattered. Instead she stayed seated, spine straight, eyes still turned toward the window, because any other reaction would only give them more material.

Adrian’s voice cut through the silence again, quieter this time but no less deliberate.

“Look at us, Marceline.”