The swine Branson Deluca engaged in sex with his new bride on and off, literally, for five months and then they struck it lucky - pregnacy.
Was the father-to-be-happy? Yes but for a totally callous reason: the day Branson confirmed he'd sired an heir, accomplishing the reason for duping Trinity into marriage, he hunted out a new boyfriend at the gym. He found acceptance in Sylvester.
The pasty-faced and mincing Sylvester owned a string of florist shops and never bothered with the pretence of marriage to shroud him in an attempted deception. He projected himself a feminine and, as many people know, women find it quite acceptable if their hairdresser or male florist appears to be gender confused.
Branson continued to occasionally sharing the marital bed to keep up appearances and posing as the husband/father as he was a wide-shouldered and blonde police officer. But from the time of conception he studiously avoided body contact with his wife except for the occasional chaste kiss in public to be noticed as an attentive husband. He occasionally pushed his son in the baby buggy through the park, thus ensuring the most critical of the city's child-bearing-age women accompanied by their mother or mother-in-law could spread the word that Sergeant Deluca was a doting father.
The gullible Trinity accepted the assertion that he had no wish to squash their unborn progeny to death in the womb and immediately after the birthing she appreciated her sensitive parts not being probed, sucked or whatever. So, for the time being the scumbag was safely running a secrete life of appearing to be a doting father and attentive husband while at other times and unnoticed, busily fingered and whatever Sylvester Jamieson into ecstasy to thus achieve his own feeling of sexual fulfillment.
* * *
Eventually mommy wanted her ration of excitement through repeated pounding in bed restored and drove Branson into a corner.
Her husband said, "Sorry Trinity; there's someone else."
"The guy who owns your hairdressing salon."
Trinity, then still the shy-girl-from-next-door type, fainted.
Branson thoughtfully laid the infant next to her and went off to play squash with his lover and then to grab a hamburger after they showered together.
Branson arrived home expecting a marital scene of disbelieving stupor but instead Trinity greeted him perfectly normally, made him coffee, smiled and said it was his turn that night to feed little Stephen. Her expressed milk was in containers the fridge and she would be sleeping in the guest room.
Well, as most people are at least a little afraid of a big, sardonic policeman it was understandable for Branson to assume Trinity knew the score and would adjust her thinking according. Little did he realize Trinity had been blown out of her defensive shell and was preparing to fight back.
Two nights later after Trinity encouraged Branson to down two whiskies before dinner and a bottle of wine while eating, he awoke just before midnight to find himself handcuffed to the brass bed-head and Pamela, wife of Senior Judge John B. Muggeridge, sprawled over his lower legs, all 210 pounds of her.
For a moment the sleep-confused Branson thought a groupie was on; Pam was Tina's best friend. Well, he was handcuffed and the bed clothing removed to exposed his nakedness. He grinned with pride knowing Pam would now be seeing more meat than John B. could ever expose to her even after the most erotic of simulation.
But then he saw the butcher's knife from the kitchen. 'Trin' had obviously plunged it into the mattress and the blade now rested against his balls.
"Back off Trin," he gasped.
Trinity's father was a attorney and she told her despicable husband she had two legal documents for him to sign and date: The first one was to undertake to pay the total costs of Stephen's upkeep, social welfare and education until the day he turned fifteen. The second document was Branson's legal undertaking to take no action or cause no action to be taken whatsoever against Pamela Jill Muggeridge who acted as independent witness to the signing by Branson Thomas Deluca of his pledge to totally fund all reasonable requirements for the upbringing of his child and heir Stephen Robert Deluca until the day the boy turned fifteen.
"This is extortion," Branson growled. "And if I don't sign?"
"With one little twist of that knife and Trinity will raise your voice an octave," Pamela giggled.
Branson signed both documents.
"Don't bother ordering your subordinates to come looking for these documents," Pamela said authoritatively. "Within very short time they will be deposited where outsiders will never find them. And hear this: attempt to punish Trinity for ensuring the security of your child then her father and my Stephen will make sure you're incarcerated, disgraced and left inside till you almost rot."
Branson snarled; "You bitches."
Trinity, holding the knife unlocked both sets of handcuffs and then calmly handed Branson the knife and remained standing right by him, staring his down.
"Fuck off you bitches and don't bother me again."
Trinity had earlier than evening shifted her clothes and accessories into the guest room and never again would set foot into that main bedroom. Twenty-four hours later Branson announced he'd cooled down and would resume doing things around the house as he'd always done and share in caring for the baby. It obviously suited him to keep up appearances.