ログインEmily’s POV My phone buzzed softly against the edge of my easel, and I set my brush down carefully before answering, already knowing who it was. Kara had promised to keep digging for any trace of Alex, and every call from her felt like holding my breath until she spoke. “Hey, Em. How are you holding up?” Her voice came through quiet and gentle, like she was afraid the answer might break me. “I’m… managing,” I said, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my tired eyes. “I have three paintings to finish as contest samples, so I’m trying to keep busy. It helps, a little. How about you? Any news?” There was a short pause before she replied, heavy with disappointment. “Nothing yet, I’m sorry. I asked everyone on the hockey team—all the people who’d know his habits, his usual spots. No one saw him after the day he left from Arena. Except Jonathan, but even Jonathan hasn’t been able to get hold of him since then. His number’s dead for everyone, not just you.” My chest tightened, but I for
Emily’s POVDoes he know?That single question circled endlessly in my head, sharp and unrelenting, as I stood before my canvas in the quiet studio. My brush hovered mid‑air, forgotten, while my mind raced through every moment from the day before. I replayed Will’s visit to my hospital room over and over—every word he spoke, every look he gave, every pause that lasted just a little too long. He hadn’t said one thing about why I’d fainted. Not a single question about my health, not a hint of concern for anything beyond the gallery and our work together.The doctor wouldn’t tell him, I told myself firmly, pressing one hand lightly to my stomach through my loose shirt. Patient privacy rules are absolute. There was no reason for any staff member to mention something like that to a man who’d only introduced himself as my business partner. But then… Will knew everything else. He knew exactly when I searched his name online. He knew every threat I made against him. He knew things about
Emily’s POVA whole week had slipped by since I put my name to Will’s contract, and every single day felt heavier, longer, and more exhausting than the one before it. I dragged myself out of bed at dawn every morning, forcing myself to eat something small before the nausea rose, then made my way first to the new studio near the gallery, then to the gallery itself, where I spent hours smiling for visitors, answering questions about my work, and pretending that everything was fine. But beneath all the polite words and practiced smiles, bone‑deep tiredness clung to me like a second skin—an exhaustion no amount of sleep could chase away, no matter how early I went to bed or how long I rested.I kept my pregnancy locked tight as my most precious secret, hidden under loose, flowing dresses and thick cardigans, never letting my hands stray to my stomach when anyone was looking. Pierre, Mrs. Anderson, the gallery staff, even the regular visitors who’d come to know my face—none of them susp
Emily’s POVI stood outside Will’s apartment door for what felt like an eternity, my hand raised but trembling so violently I couldn’t bring myself to make contact. My breath came in short, ragged bursts, and my free hand pressed tight against my stomach, a silent promise to the life growing there that I was doing this for us. The thick folder tucked under my arm felt impossibly heavy, like it held not just ink and paper, but my entire future, every choice I had left to make, every scrap of freedom I still possessed. Every time I pictured Alex—cold, hungry, alone, hurt somewhere I couldn’t reach him—my resolve wavered, then hardened all over again. This isn’t for me. This is for him. I would sign anything, give anything, just to know he’s safe.I finally knocked, three slow, shaky raps against the wood.The door swung open almost immediately, as if he’d been standing right behind it waiting, counting the seconds until I broke. Will stood there, wearing that same easy, practiced s
Emily’s POVI stumbled back into my apartment, my legs feeling like jelly, and slammed the door shut behind me before fumbling with the locks until both the deadbolt and the chain clicked firmly into place. Leaning back against the wood, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the feeling of Will’s gaze on me, the memory of his hand brushing my cheek, the cold, hungry way he’d looked at me like I was something he’d already bought and paid for. My heart hammered so hard against my ribs I could hear it in my ears, and my breath came in short, ragged gasps. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was obsessed, twisted in a way I couldn’t begin to untangle, and he knew things he had no right to know.I couldn’t just stand there shaking, waiting for the next threat to land. I had to understand. I had to find out who he really was, where he came from, what he had against Alex, how he’d gotten this far into our lives without us ever noticing. If I knew his weaknesses, his secrets, the things he wa
Emily’s POV Arranging my days back in Paris felt like learning to walk all over again. Every street corner, every cafe, every stretch of the Seine held memories of Alex—his warm laugh echoing off the stone walls, the way he’d tuck my hand tight in his pocket when the wind turned cold, the quiet stillness of him sitting beside me while I painted late into the night. Walking through this city without him felt like wearing clothes that were too big, like something vital had been cut out of my daily life and left a hollow space I couldn’t quite fill. And beneath that aching silence lay another secret, heavy and precious, something I’d held close to my chest since that day in the hotel bathroom: my pregnancy. No one knew. Not Mrs. Anderson, not Pierre, not even Kara. I’d wrapped it tight in my heart, too scared to speak it aloud until I knew exactly what I was doing, too afraid that saying it would make it feel even more overwhelming than it already did. But I couldn’t just drift fo
Emily’s POVMy legs felt loose and heavy at the same time as I stumbled back toward the bar. The music pulsed louder in my ears, each beat slamming against my skull. Kara’s warning from moments ago still rang in my head, but I pushed it away. “Another one,” I told the bartender, slapping my hand
Emily’s POVMy body moved on its own, hips swaying harder than I ever had before, arms raised like I could push the pain out through my fingertips. The bass thumped inside my chest, matching the angry beat of my pulse. Sweat clung to my skin. The black dress rode up my thighs with every sharp turn
Emily’s POVI stared at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the girl looking back.The tight black dress Kara lent me hugged every curve, short enough to make me tug at the hem nervously. My eyes were still puffy from crying, but I’d managed to cover most of the redness with makeup. Lip glo
Emily’s POVMy laughter died the second I pushed open the café door.There he was, Lucas, my boyfriend of thirteen months with another girl on his lap, kissing her like he was starving.His hands gripped her waist exactly the way they used to grip mine. Her long chestnut hair spilled over his shoul







