CHAPTER 2

At 1:26, the front doors finally opened. Sheriff walked inside. He didn't even glance at the dinner. His footsteps were steady as he crossed the marble floor. Then I smelled it. Jasmine. Marie. The scent clung to his shirt. My stomach twisted.

He stopped several feet away from me. For one foolish second, I thought he might apologize. Instead, he pulled a thick envelope from inside his coat and dropped it onto the table. "Marie isn't feeling well." His voice was flat.

I stared at him. "She's staying here tonight?"

"For a few days."

My fingers curled beneath the table. "Of course."

Sheriff looked toward the staircase. "Pack your things."

I blinked. "What?"

"Your things." His eyes finally met mine. "Move to the east suite by morning."

I almost laughed. The room suddenly felt unreal. "You're moving me?"

"Don't make this difficult."

My eyes burned. "I've been sitting here waiting for you."

"I know."

"You knew?"

His jaw tightened. "There's a gala. Reporters. Marie isn't well. I don't have time for this tonight."

This. He called our anniversary dinner this. My fingers moved instinctively toward my stomach. I wanted to tell him. Right then. I wanted to pull the ultrasound from my pocket and throw it onto the table. Instead, I asked quietly, "Does she matter that much to you?"

He went still. For the first time, something flickered across his face. Then it disappeared. "She's important to me."

Four words. They were enough. I swallowed the ache rising in my throat. "And what am I?"

Sheriff didn't answer. He simply turned away. "The east suite will be cleared before morning. Her doctor arrives at nine."

He walked toward the doors. I stared after him. "Sheriff."

He stopped. My heart hammered. The ultrasound pressed against my skin. I opened my mouth. But the words wouldn't come. He waited only a second before leaving. The doors closed behind him. Silence swallowed the room.

I looked down at the untouched dinner. Three years. Three years of trying to make this marriage work. And tonight, my husband had chosen another woman without even knowing that I was carrying his child.

I slowly pulled the ultrasound from my pocket. My fingers trembled as I looked at the tiny image. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I didn't know whether I was apologizing to the baby, to myself, or to the man who had just walked out.

Then my eyes fell on the envelope Sheriff had left behind. Something about it felt wrong. I reached for it. My fingers had barely touched the seal when I noticed the name printed across the front. Not mine. Marie Laurent.

I froze. Why had my husband left Marie's documents on our anniversary table? I opened the envelope. And the first page made my blood run cold.

It wasn't a medical report. It wasn't a doctor's appointment. It was a legal document. A marriage agreement. With Sheriff's signature already at the bottom. And Marie's name beside it.

I stopped breathing. The date at the top was three weeks from today. Sheriff hadn't just brought Marie home. He had already planned what came next.

I slowly lowered the paper. My hand moved to my stomach. For the first time that night, I wasn't afraid of losing my marriage. I was afraid of what my husband had been planning behind my back. And suddenly, telling him about my pregnancy didn't feel like the safest thing to do. It felt like the most dangerous.

The next morning, I went to the hospital. I hadn't slept. The marriage agreement Sheriff had left behind was still folded inside my purse, but I refused to let it change what I needed to do. Before I confronted him, I needed certainty. I needed the doctor's confirmation. I needed proof that the two tiny lives growing inside me were really his.

The elevator doors opened on the third floor. I stepped out, one hand gripping my purse and the other holding the appointment slip the receptionist had given me downstairs. Then I stopped. Marie was waiting. She stood beneath the harsh hospital lights, holding a yellow envelope in one hand. Her hair was perfectly styled. Her makeup was flawless.

My stomach tightened. "Rosalie," she said, almost gently. "I was hoping I'd catch you."

I stared at her. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she lifted the yellow envelope slightly. My eyes dropped to it. My name was printed across the top. A cold feeling crawled down my spine. "How did you know I was coming?"

Her lips curved into a small smile. "I know more about you than you think."

I instinctively tightened my grip on my purse. The real results were still inside—the ultrasound order, the bloodwork request, the proof that the twins inside me belonged to Sheriff. Marie took one slow step closer. "I know," she whispered.

Two words. The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. I stared at her. "You know what?"

"You're pregnant."

My breath caught. She knew. I hadn't told Sheriff. I hadn't told my family. I hadn't told anyone. So how

"And you're going to tell him today, aren't you?" she continued. Her voice was soft, almost sympathetic. "You'll show him the pictures. Tell him you're carrying his children. Maybe you'll even beg him to keep you."

My face burned. "Stay away from me."

Marie smiled. "He will never choose you."

I froze. "Not while he still believes I pulled him out of that wreckage."

Her fingers lightly touched the bracelet around her wrist. The silver lotus. My stomach twisted. "Not while I wear the bracelet he gave me."

For three years, I had watched Sheriff treasure that bracelet. For three years, he had looked at Marie as though she were the woman who had saved his life. He had never known it was me. And Marie had never corrected him.

I stepped around her. "I have a doctor's appointment."

"Of course."

Her smile didn't disappear. That was what frightened me. I pushed through the consultation-room doors.

The doctor was waiting. I needed the official confirmation in black and white before I faced Sheriff with the truth. Marie didn't follow me inside. For the next ten minutes, I answered questions, underwent the examination, and gave the blood sample the nurse requested. When the doctor confirmed the pregnancy—and the twins—the words should have filled me with joy. Instead, fear settled heavier in my chest.

I had two babies to protect now. And a husband who had already planned to marry another woman.

I stepped back into the hallway. Marie was gone. So was the nurse who had drawn my blood. I looked around. The corridor was strangely quiet. Then I noticed it. A thicker yellow envelope sitting on the counter of the nurses' station. My name was written across it. My heart began pounding.

I walked toward it slowly. I hadn't seen anyone leave it there. I picked it up. Then tore it open. The first page made my blood run cold.

A termination report dated three weeks ago. I stared at the words. "No…"

The second page was worse. A paternity panel linking the pregnancy to Elias Crowe, an architect I had barely spoken to in years. My fingers began to shake. This wasn't possible. I had never been with Elias. Never.

Then I saw the third page. Marie's handwriting. Neat. Deliberate. Cruel.

He already knows. I told him this morning. Guest wing until the end of the month. After that, you're on your own.

The corridor spun. Sheriff knew? No. That couldn't be true. I had only discovered the pregnancy yesterday. Unless—

My eyes snapped toward the stairwell. Marie. I ran.

I found her on the landing between the third and second floors, leaning against the railing as if she had been waiting for me all along. "Give them back," I said. My voice came out raw. "The real results. Now."

Marie looked at me. For the first time, her soft mask slipped. The sweetness drained from her face. "There are no real results left," she said quietly. She lifted the yellow envelope. "Only the ones that matter."

I lunged for it. She jerked it away. Then she grabbed both my wrists. Hard. I barely had time to react. Marie threw her body backward down the stairs, dragging me with her.

We fell. The first impact slammed the air from my lungs. The second sent a violent burst of pain through my abdomen. Pain exploded white-hot through me. I hit the landing on my side. The world tilted. Then I felt warmth. It spread between my legs, soaking through the fabric of my dress. Blood. My blood.

My hands flew to my stomach. "No…"

Marie landed several steps below me. She rolled onto her side, clutched her wrist, and screamed. The sound bounced off the concrete walls. "Help!"

Footsteps thundered from above and below. Nurses. Orderlies. Voices. Shouts. I tried to push myself up. My arms wouldn't hold. The pain in my belly pulsed in sick, crushing waves, and the blood kept coming. I pressed both hands to the spreading stain and looked up at Marie.

Two orderlies were already helping her to her feet. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Perfect tears. She clutched her wrist and pointed at me. "She pushed me!"

My heart stopped. "No."

My voice was barely a whisper. "She tried to kill me!"

"That's not true," I gasped. But nobody was listening.

Marie sobbed harder. "She found out I knew about the affair. She went crazy."

An orderly looked at her wrist. Another knelt beside me. "Ma'am, don't move."

I pressed both hands against my stomach. The warmth wouldn't stop. Neither would the pain. And as the emergency alarm began screaming somewhere down the corridor, I realized the terrible truth.

Marie hadn't come to the hospital by accident. She had known exactly where I would be. She had known about my pregnancy. And she had prepared everything before I ever stepped through those elevator doors.