Page 2 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

As I glance up at her again, I am reminded of the night I found out: the family gala that should have been a perfect night. I had noticed that he’d drifted away from the party for a while, so I went out on the balcony to find him. Which is where, of course, I stumbled across him on a video call to Lisa. I saw her face on the screen first, which was confusing enough. But when he turned around and I saw the complete and utter guilt etched on his face, I knew she was something he had never intended for me to find out about.

"Well, I think we have a few gold pieces that might make a good match," I tell her as I lead her to the accessory display at the far side of the store. "Here, what do you think of this? It’s simple, but it works with plenty of different styles. You can really dress this kind of necklace up or down, depending on what you’re looking for."

I bite back tears as I go through my normal spiel, forcing myself not to give this woman the satisfaction of seeing what she’s doing to me. Because it wasn’t even really about her, not really. No, she could have my damn, cheating ex if she wanted him; she could get engaged to him and run off on tropical vacations with him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. But what she doesn’t know is that I am carrying his child, and I don’t know where the hell that leaves me.

I manage to convince her to purchase a few pieces and head back to the counter so we can settle up. Becky emerges from the back room, and when she sees who’s standing there at the counter, she stiffens for a second. I shoot her a look, silently imploring her not to turn this into any more of a humiliation ritual than it already is, and finish ringing up Lisa’s pieces.

"Thanks," Lisa tells me as she grabs the bag from the counter.

"Enjoy your trip," I reply, and she grins.

"Oh, I know we will," she replies. And with that, she heads over to the door, leaving me to grab the counter as I try to steel myself against the flood of emotion that is rushing through me right now.

"Holy shit, was that…?” Becky blurts.

"Yeah, it was," I reply as I lean my head down, catching my breath. "Lisa. The woman he was cheating on me with."

"Was that an engagement ring she was wearing?"

I nod. Becky rests a hand on my shoulder, brows knitting together with concern.

"You know, if she wants him, you should just let her have him," she tells me, mistaking my distress for being focused on the new relationship over anything else. "They deserve each other, after what they did to you."

"Yeah, I know," I reply, lifting my head and feeling the pinch of tears at the back of my eyes. Not here. Not at work. Please.

"What’s going on?" she asks. "You want me to close up the shop for a while, and you can⁠—"

"I’m pregnant."

The words escape my lips before I can even really think about the enormous weight I am dumping on Becky’s head right now. They just hang there for a moment, neither of us really sure what to do with them, and then Becky springs into action.

"Oh my God, Rose!” she exclaims. "Sit down. Let me get you a chair. When did you find out? Is Petar the father?”

As she peppers me with questions, I do my best to keep up, but it’s hard to make sense of it all as it jars into place. Now that I have said it out loud, there is no taking it back, no getting away from it, no pretending that this isn’t happening. I tip my head back, but it is too late, and I can already feel the tears starting to leak down my face.

Muttering a curse under my breath, I pull my purse out from where I had stashed it at the start of my shift and pull it open, hoping to find a tissue or something I can tidy myself up with. But instead, my eyes lock on something buried there at the bottom of my belongings, and I freeze as the memories rush through me once more.

Chapter 2

Rose – Six Weeks Earlier

I stare down into the drink on the polished table in front of me, the whirr of the engine below me as the plane whisks me back home. Really, I should be enjoying my first time on a private jet, but all I can think about is the asshole who forced me to flee like this in the first place, and I want nothing more than another drink.

I take a sip of the vodka on the rocks, wrapping my arms around myself as I sit there in the large leather seat in the dress I picked out for the masquerade. I haven’t taken it off yet, though I feel entirely ridiculous just sitting around in it like this. I haven’t even bothered to remove the mask I chose for this evening, either: a beautiful blue peacock one that obscures my features, leaving only my mouth and one eye on display. I thought I looked so pretty when I left the hotel room earlier this evening to attend Petar’s family function, but now I just feel like a goddamn idiot.

The moment I saw him on that call with that woman, I knew something was wrong. And it didn’t take long to get it out of him, just what it was he had been getting away with right under my nose while he was here. In fact, she filled me in with great gusto, like this was the chance she had been waiting for to prove that she was the better of the two of us.

He had flown her out there to join him for the gathering, putting her up in a room in the same hotel as us. And once he had her safely stashed away, he had been sneaking off twice a day to meet with her and fool around in her room. He had me on his arm at the ball, but that didn’t mean a goddamn thing when he was treating me like a fucking idiot right there behind my back.

"Rose, come on, you need to listen to me," he had pleaded with me as I had rushed down the stairs of the balcony, trying my best to escape. I couldn’t stand to be in there for another second, knowing that his family was nearby, wondering if any of them had been in on it. Had everyone known all this time and been clucking their tongue sympathetically behind my back while I got cheated on?

"I think I’ve heard everything I need to from you, Petar!” I had yelled back up at him as I rushed for the main exit. I didn’t even know where I intended to go. Finding some way back to Chicago was the first thing on my mind. Out here, across the state, at one of his family’s luxurious homes in the woods, it felt like I was a million miles from anything or anyone who might be able to help me. I didn’t even have my phone on me; it was back at the hotel, because I had been so sure that it would have been the height of rudeness to bring it with me when I was supposed to be spending the night with family.

I planted my hand against the stone doorway and caught my breath, shooting a look behind me to make sure that Petar wasn’t following me. He surely couldn’t have thought for a moment that anything was going to come of it if he did—I didn’t want to lay eyes on him again, not after Lisa had spilled the beans. He had hooked up with me a couple of times on the trip, too—had that been before or after he had taken his fill of her? Ugh, the thought alone was enough to make me⁠—

"Hey, what’s going on?"

I looked up to find a man stepping out of the front door, a cigarette in one hand, a concerned expression on his face. I recognized him at once as Ilya, Petar’s uncle. The head of this family—in fact, the one who commanded the family fortune, though I knew little of where that came from. I have hardly spoken to him till now, but in this moment, I would take whatever help I can get.