CHAPTER FIVE

He glanced at the room. Derrick’s smirk, Lucian’s thinly veiled eye-roll, Vivienne’s narrow smile. Helena’s patience masked ambition. Howard and Margot nodded politely, but their eyes glittered with calculation.

Everything his grandfather had built, everything he had fought to uphold, was suddenly alive in the tension that filled the room. And Adrian knew marriage or not, these people would try to take what they could.

The lawyer paused. “And finally, should Adrian Vale fail to meet the condition of marriage within the three-month period, his shares shall be redistributed equally among the other children.” The words landed like stones. Silence followed, heavier than the chandeliers above.

Adrian’s fists clenched. Seraphina hadn’t replied to his calls. And now, the clock wasn’t just ticking it was screaming.

The burial of his grandfather was done in private with just family members and few of the board members. And everyone went their way planning to ensure he is left with nothing.

Elara POV

Elara hated herself for it.

Not him.

Not the night.

Herself.

The morning after, she had walked away with her head high, but inside, something burned with shame, anger, disappointment tangled into something sharp and unbearable.

You knew better, she kept telling herself.

He wasn’t supposed to matter. He was just a man who paid her fees. A mistake wrapped in a suit and silence.

And yet she had let herself forget everything focusing on her brother in the hospital, her mother depending on her, her future hanging by a thread.

For what?

A moment.

Life didn’t pause for regret.

Elara threw herself back into routine like survival depended on it because it did.

Morning lectures.

Afternoon hospital visits.

Night shifts at work.

She barely slept. Barely ate. She moved through her days like a machine, ignoring the lingering weight in her chest every time she remembered his face… or the way he had looked at her after.

Cold.

Like she was something he needed to erase.

“Focus,” she whispered to herself constantly. “Just focus.”

But her body was starting to betray her.

The exhaustion deepened. Her head spun more often. Food made her nauseous. She blamed stress—what else could it be? Her life was already too much.

Until the day everything stopped.

She was at work when it happened.

The café was busy, voices blending into noise, the smell of coffee thick in the air. Elara gripped the edge of the counter, blinking hard as dizziness washed over her.

“Are you okay?” someone asked.

“I’m fine,” she murmured.

She wasn’t.

The room tilted.

Her vision blurred.

And then—darkness.

When she woke up, the world felt quieter.

Too quiet.

White walls. A faint antiseptic smell. A soft beeping sound somewhere close.

Hospital.

Her heart dropped instantly.

Her brother.

She sat up too quickly. “My brother…. ”

“He’s fine,” a nurse said gently. “You’re the patient.”

Elara froze.

The doctor came in shortly after, calm, professional, holding a file that suddenly felt like it contained her entire life.

“You’ve been overworking yourself,” he began. “Your body is under a lot of stress.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “I just need rest, I’ll be fine….”

He shook his head slightly.

“There’s more.”

Something in his tone made her chest tighten.

“Elara,” he said carefully, “you’re twenty six days pregnant.”

The world didn’t just stop.

It collapsed.

“No,” she whispered.

The word came out weak, broken. Like if she said it enough times, it would undo itself.

“That’s not possible.”

But it was.

Her mind raced back to the unwanted, uninvited incident at the club. The car. The mistake she had tried so hard to bury.

Her hands began to shake.

“No… no, I can’t…” Her voice cracked. “I have school. I have bills. My brother….”

Her breath hitched painfully.

“I can’t have a baby.”

Tears spilled before she could stop them. Not soft tears. Not quiet ones. These were desperate, terrified, overwhelming.

She pressed her hands to her face, shaking.

“How am I supposed to do this?” she cried. “How am I supposed to carry a child when I can barely carry my own life?”

Fear wrapped around her throat.

Disappointment settled deep in her chest—heavy, suffocating. Not just in the situation, but in herself.

She had worked so hard to stay in control.

And now everything was slipping.

Her education.

Her future.

Her stability.

All hanging by a thread she didn’t know how to hold.

And the worst part?

Adrian didn’t even know.

She laughed weakly through her tears, the sound hollow.

“Of course,” she whispered bitterly. “Of course this would happen to me.”

For the first time in a long time, Elara felt truly lost.

Not tired.

Not overwhelmed.

Lost.

And this time, there was no simple way out.