finding myself

Chapter 3

Finding myself

I didn’t allow the tears in my eye to drop.I let my body respond just enough to satisfy him while my mind sharpened into something cold and focused. Every grunt, every brutal thrust made me remember what I meant to him.

“a breeding vessel”

That was the only value I held in his eyes. When he finally finished and rolled off me without saying a word, I turned on my side, facing away, pretending to fall asleep until his breathing deepened.

I knew within me that the next seven months are going to be hell wrapped in silk and lies.

I became the perfect wife on the surface. I smiled when he glanced at me, cooked his favorite meals, and spread my legs without complaint whenever he wanted. But every spare second I had, I worked. I siphoned small amounts of cash into hidden accounts. I contacted shady brokers using burner phones I bought with grocery money. I studied new identities, memorized escape routes, and whispered promises to the baby growing inside me every single night.

“You will never belong to him,” I would murmur, hands robbing my swelling belly. “You are mine.”

Damien noticed the bump, of course. He even seemed pleased in his cold way—his heir was developing as expected. But he never asked how I felt. Never touched my belly with anything resembling warmth. I was still just the vessel.

I realised Victor Kane began to watch me more closely. I caught him staring a few times with an unreadable expression. I was terrified he would expose me, but he never did. Not until the night everything changed.

My water broke at 2:17 a.m.

Damien was in Hong Kong. I doubled over in the kitchen, pain ripping through me, and dialed the only number I had prepared for this exact moment.

Victor answered immediately.

“It’s time,” I gasped.

“Service entrance. Four minutes. Black SUV. Do not take anything traceable.”

I didn’t ask why he was helping. I managed to grab the go-bag I’d hidden behind the false panel in the closet, changed into loose dark clothes, and slipped out like a shadow while contractions tore me apart.

The private clinic was small and discreet. No questions. No records under my real name.

I labored for hours, biting down on screams, sweat pouring off me. When the final push came, I let out one raw, broken cry.

And then–he was here.

A baby boy.

The nurse placed him on my chest, and the entire world narrowed to this little cute creature with a mop of dark hair and eyes that already looked like mine.

I couldn't be happier than I was at that moment.

“Jordan,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face as I kissed his damp forehead. “My light. My everything.”

He was so small, so warm, so alive. In that moment, every piece of my shattered heart fused back together around him. I knew I would burn the world down before I let Damien turn him into another pawn.

Forty minutes later, Victor walked into the recovery room.

“Your window is narrow,” he said quietly, handing me fresh documents. “New passports. Money I multiplied and cleaned. The car is waiting.”

I clutched Jordan tighter, with so much suspicion cutting through me . “Why are you betraying him?”

Victor’s jaw flexed. “Because some lines should never be crossed. And because a boy raised in that penthouse would only become another monster like his father. Move, Elara. He lands in six hours.”

I didn’t thank him. I simply nodded, changed into plain clothes, carried Jordan to my chest, and walked out of that clinic without looking back.

Every mile we drove away from the city felt like shedding dead skin. The girl who had signed that contract died somewhere on that dark highway. By the time the private jet took off, Elara Thompson no longer existed.

Damien’s POV

I was still in Hong Kong when it happened.

The deal had dragged on longer than expected, but it was worth it. Another billion-dollar contract locked down. I stood on the balcony of my suite, whiskey in hand, city lights sprawled below me, when my phone rang. Victor’s name flashed on the screen. Late hour. He knew better than to call unless it was important.

I answered. “Talk.”

“Sir… she went into labor tonight. Water broke around 2 a.m. New York time.” Victor’s voice was steady, professional. “I got her to the private clinic like we arranged. Everything went smoothly. It’s a boy.”

A boy.

I froze, the glass halfway to my lips. A son. My heir. Something tight and possessive clenched in my chest. For the first time in months, a real smile tugged at my mouth.

“Healthy?” I asked.

“Perfectly Sir. And cute as hell.” She named him Jordan”

My smile sharpened. “Of course she did. Keep your eyes on both of them. I want updates every hour. I’ll be on the jet in the morning. Tell Elara I’m on my way.”

“Understood sir.”

He responded as he should

I ended the call and stood there, staring at the Hong Kong skyline, chest swelling with something I rarely felt—pride. A son. Finally, I already pictured him in the penthouse, groomed from birth to take over everything I’d built. Elara had done her part. Now I’d make sure my boy grew up exactly as he should.

I barely slept. By dawn I was wrapping things up and boarding the jet back to New York.

The call came in while we were somewhere over the Pacific.

Victor again. This time his voice was different.

“She’s gone.”

I sat up straighter in the leather seat. “What the fuck do you mean, gone?”

“After the birth. She took the baby and disappeared. Used a go-bag she’d hidden. New documents. No trace yet. I… I tried to contain it, but she moved fast.”

Rage exploded through me so violently I threw the glass across the cabin. It shattered against the wall.

“You were supposed to be watching her!” I roared. “My wife. My son. And you let her walk out with him?”

Victor stayed quiet for a beat. “I’m already mobilizing. Every contact, every camera, every favor. We’ll find them.”

“Find them,” I snarled, voice shaking with fury. “I don’t care what it costs. Burn it all down if you have to. She belongs to me. That boy is my blood. My heir. Get the jet ready to land—I want to be in the penthouse by midnight.”