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The door opens to an elegant suite. Even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined myself walking into a room as expensive and as elegant as the presidential suite. My eyes light up with awe when I see a baby carrier on top of a coffee table. It's the one I wanted for Christian, but I had to settle for a secondhand one from the thrift shop.
"This way, Miss," a maid call. She opens another room, and a beautiful crib is next to a large bed.
A smile spreads across my face when I see my son sleeping comfortably. If Nicholas is correct that some millionaire fathered my son, this is how my baby should live. Brand-new and comfortable crib; heated room; sun beaming from the window. Wake up, Ally. Christian is nothing but a liability to his father. That man will not extend such kindness as Mr. Smith had.
Can he... I shake my head. I’ve been thinking that Elijah Smith was the man who raped me. The man in my dreams almost has the same feature as him. The eyes and the hair, but the face is still a blur to me. There must be a hundred gray-eyed, curly-haired men in Houston. Also, if it was him, he should have known me. It’s only been about sixteen months. He can’t forget the face of the woman he raped that fast. Unless... he didn’t have the heart.
“You need to leave now,” Terrence tells me. “I will send all this stuff to your apartment. Just tell me the address.”
“Oh. You don’t need to. I appreciate...”
“You probably know right now that Mr. Smith isn’t fond of being turned down,” I look at the stuff Mr. Smith bought for Christian. It’s a gift. My son deserves some goodness from a good man. Unlike me. I nodded before telling the assistant my address.
“May I know where Mr. Smith is? I want to thank him personally.”
“He’s going somewhere for the night,” Terrence tells me.
Tonight. I also have to go somewhere for the night. Delilah’s, a private club uptown. Ronda said that only the rich and the privileged can go there. I wanted to change my mind, but Ronda convinced me to go through with it. I look at my son again. He deserves better than what I can offer. He can only have it once we are far from the people who wish to harm us.
“Please thank him for me,” I smile and take my son out.
“Allyson Henry isn’t your real name, is it?” Terrence suddenly asks me.
I pause for a moment. Terrence is half-right. Allyson is my given name, but Henry is my stepfather's name. The latter adopted me, so technically, I'm Allyson Henry. But when I went back to Empire, Louisiana, I assumed my real father's family name – Stevenson.
“You’re not married, too,” Terrence adds.
“Why the sudden interest in my life?” I try to act offended to hide my fears.
“Nothing. Mr. Smith just wants to make sure that everyone that works for his wife is clean. You understand, don’t you?”
Lucky bitch. Kelly is so lucky to have everything that a woman like me could only dream of. She has a wealthy husband who’ll do anything and everything for her. I look at my son. There’s one thing she doesn’t have that I do. I smile softly. She can have everything I dreamed of but not my son.
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