A Contract Wife

“Get out!” I exclaim in fear, backing into the room. He steps toward me, preventing me from leaving, and gives a hard, sly grin: “Running away again? Don’t worry—I just came to talk. For now.”
“There’s nothing to talk about!”
“Nothing to talk about? Maybe you’ll tell me about your son?”—he snarls. In a second he’s right beside me, pressing his hand against my throat: “Maybe you’ll tell me how you stole him from me?”
“He’s not your son,” I insist, staring into his black eyes.
“I know the truth,” he smiles with a terrible smile. “I’ll take him from you. And neither your husband nor you—no one—will stop me.”