After the Kneeling

Summary

Seven years of marriage, and my husband had slept his way through half of Hollywood.

I was thirty-nine weeks pregnant when his latest pet, a starlet he was bankrolling, offended a major client at a gala. To save the deal, Julian demanded that I kneel and apologize on her behalf.

I stared at him in disbelief. "I'm pregnant, Julian. How can I kneel? What if I hurt the baby—"

He cut me off, his voice laced with ice. "It's just kneeling. Since when did you become so fragile?"