His Ring Her Rules

Ethan Blackwood is not fazed by many things.

The paparazzi? No.

Corporate sabotage? Not very likely.

After one crazy night, I became pregnant with his child? Apparently not.

But I swear his entire soul shriveled a little when he said, "My mother's coming over," after checking his phone.

I froze in the middle of my croissant mouthful and shouted, "Wait," "your mother as in mother-mother?"

He mumbled, running a hand over his already immaculate shirt, "She's... complicated."

It's complicated, my ass. She entered the penthouse an hour later as if winter had come two seasons early.

tall. Perfect. A scent that might stab a man.

"Ethan," she said, giving him a surgically precise air kiss on both cheeks.

She then faced me.

and grinned.

Not in a friendly manner. Not icily. No. That smile was the kind that made you want to look at your wallet and pulse.

Blackwood cold is different from other types of cold.

This was definitely Ethan's mother. She came to the penthouse as if she owned it and everyone in it, with sharp edges and harder words. Like an executioner wearing high-end shoes, I heard the elevator bell and then the tap of high heels.

With a fur-lined coat slung over her shoulders and not a hair out of place, she walked in and said, "Ethan." "I thought your timing would be better. Before me knowing anything, the media had this.

Wearing leggings and one of Ethan's old sweaters that was stretched over my expanding tummy, I stood next to the kitchen island. Of course.

Her gaze pierced me.

"And this has to be the cause." Her voice was poisoned and syrupy sweet.

Ethan took a step forward. "This is Grace Carter, Mother. My wife.

She blinked. "You married her?" She glanced at my bare feet and then at my unbrushed hair. "How charming."

I feigned a courteous grin. "Thank you, Mrs. Blackwood, for meeting me."

She hardly even acknowledged it. "Grace. What a common name. And Carter—any connection to the Carters of the oil company?'

"No," I replied, maintaining my smile. "Just the Carters, of the broke bookstores."

Evidently unimpressed, she hummed.

Beside me, Ethan stiffened but remained silent. Naturally, he didn't. I was merely the unwelcome wild card in this power play. Leggings and a scandal.

His mom turned back to him. "The media is having a great time. Are you aware of the potential impact this could have on your IPO prospects? to the name of the family?

"Mother, she's my wife," Ethan stated calmly. "My child is in her womb."

"Which exacerbates it," she yelled. "You married a girl, not just got her pregnant? Without a prenuptial agreement?

I almost bled from the force of my tongue bite.

I said pleasantly, "Thank you for your concern." "But I don't want your family's money."

She laughed. "Obviously not. You must have fallen in love with a broken condom and cocktails."

Ethan tightened his fists at his sides.

I took a stride forward, chin up. "Mrs. Blackwood, I might not be from your world. However, I am able to raise a child with integrity, love with ferocity, and stand my ground in a room full of wolves."

She appeared truly amused. "All well, then. I hope you can make it through the pack.

Suddenly, she pivoted on her heel and left, taking with her the aroma of wealth, influence, and newly honed discernment.

Only after the door closed did I let out a breath.

"She despises me," I stated bluntly.

Ethan rubbed his face and said, "She despises everyone." "But you—" she fears.

I was astonished by that.

"Fears?"

He said plainly, "She can't control you." "And that's worse than scandal in her world."