The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

I can’t stop yawning lately, good old pregnancy fatigue has been my worst enemy and I can’t even imagine trying to work like this. All I do is sit around, eat, sleep, or have sex. It really is awful when I think about the person I used to be. I know people often talk of baby-brain, but I didn’t think it affected someone this early. Jake has ruined me for the real world and going back to it will be absolute hell. It’s strange, I never imagined I would ever submit to being some pampered billionaire’s girlfriend … fiancée, but Jake is the king of pampering. He really does treat me like his queen.

God, I love that man.

I know it’s temporary though, once this little bundle comes and gets a little older, I have every intention of pursuing a new dream, a new career. I have no reason to live life this way, indefinitely. There is still a huge part of me that wants my own achievements, my own worth proven to myself by myself. I want to leave some worthwhile mark on the world and a legacy for our children. I want to be more than just a billionaire’s wife. I think I owe it to myself.

I get upstairs and pad toward our bedroom, clapping for the lights up here but they don’t come on. I’m stood in complete darkness with little light coming through into the hallway of doors, the moonlight peeking through the bedroom windows of one open door, splashing little slivers of light through but not enough to see much. I kick my shoes off by the top of the stairs and leave them lying there to feel my feet along the ground, trying to find my way while my eyes adjust. I clap louder, trying to remember where the sensors are in case, I’m not close enough.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I snap and clap again, but nothing happens. I haven’t got a clue to where the manual switches are up here. I’m standing in the hall between doors to various rooms and no windows in the hall in front of me. It’s too dark up here to try running my hands around the walls and I’m internally cursing these God forsaken workmen. It’s just my luck to finally have the house done and empty for a stupid fault like this to show up. Jake is going to have to call them back here tomorrow to fix the damn things and I’ll have to endure another day of them invading my space.

Carefully treading my way across the carpet, my palm runs along the smooth walls slowly until I reach the handle of my door and slide my palm round it to grip it. In the room, I know there are switches by the door and at least four lamps, plus, the huge picture window will be allowing the moon to cast some light and I’m sure it’ll be a lot better than standing in a dark hall.

“Don’t fucking breathe.” A harsh heavy growl lashes into my ear, hot breath assaulting my face and the metallic smell makes me gag as I freeze like a stone cold statue; an arm comes around my throat at lightning speed and my mouth is covered cruelly, blocking out my ability to squeal. Everything inside of me thuds with a sickening terror and my blood turns to ice in my veins.

A rough hand crushes my face painfully, bruising my lips against my teeth. I’m pushed forward against the door with force, my body pinned hard and heavy with a thud so that I don’t have any time to react. The solid weight of a big man crushing against me cruelly and restricting my breathing brings sheer fear and consuming panic through my hazy brain. I’m imprisoned with a dead weight and can’t move a single muscle. My feet planted on the floor are pushed far apart with a kick and the disgusting wide body and legs of a man are forced right against me from toe to head. His erection forced up against my ass, making me still and complaint with sheer feint fear. I can sense the aggressive violence pulsing in the air around me, crackling like stars in my vision.

I can’t breathe, or see, or move but I can smell, all my other senses in utter chaos. My heart thudding hard as my hands claw at the wood in front of me, instinctively, looking for anything to grab. But my sense of smell invokes a memory that has my knees trembling and bile lifting from my toes, a cold sweeping wave of panic and realization hitting me hard.

I smell him.

I know him.

own terrified tears as it

here with me all

shock from the fear and I can’t move, his rough hands painfully and cruelly

assault and the way he exerted power over me in Chicago. My body trembling, involuntarily, and my mind constantly racing to the miracle inside of me and my maternal need

devastate my mind emotionally, but I can’t give

I know he would beat my child from within

have some catching up

for some sixth sense to make him feel my need for him; mentally calling for help, attempting to keep my body from unraveling at the panic building

me, even if Mathews is heading back. This will take

little Mia, maybe … Mommy is going to protect you, my sweetheart. We’ll hang

the one thing I must protect no matter

you want?” My voice is small and shaking as his hand uncovers my mouth while he changes his grip position, my palms are flattened to the cold door in front of me, and I’m trying my hardest to claw back some

going to be

makes my choke, as his dirty mouth comes to my cheek. I try to recoil from him, but the biting grip on the back of my neck pushes my face hard against