Chapter 2: The Contract’s Funeral

Valkyrie's POV

The plastic test strip was in my numb fingers.

Two pink lines.

I pressed my back firmly against the wall of the darkened shopfront, my chest rising and falling as the icy rain kept on beating down around me.

My hand moved instinctively downwards and came to rest with my palm flat on my lower abdomen.

Under the damp fabric of my coat, under my shivering skin and muscles, a secret was taking hold of Kaelen's blood.

Our baby.

A sob was about to burst free and tear through my throat, but I pushed it down, suppressing the sharp, metallic taste of pure panic.

Only three hours earlier had I practiced exactly how I would tell him.

I had imagined his eyes growing gentle, that rare and stunning smile which, as a rule, took weeks of persistent persuasion to get out of his quiet, serious manner, the way his big, warm hands would cover mine when I gave him the news.

We were meant to be building a real life on the foundation of the ashes from our paper marriage.

Rather, he looked at me as though I had been a venomous snake that he had by mistake let into his house.

The loud crash of the door closing behind me reverberated in my ears, more intense than the sound of the thunder above.

The contract was over; my marriage was over.

The man who had kept me in the dark and had whispered to me promises of a genuine future beyond our temporary situation had buried us both without even thinking about it.

A sudden and sharp vibration hitting my thigh pulled me out of the thought.

The phone in my pocket was buzzing.

I took a breath, and my heart suddenly shot up into my throat.

Has Kaelen checked the server logs once more? Has he worked out that the digital signature was a copy? Has he come down to look for me?

I took the phone out my hands trembling, the light from the screen shining on the raindrops gathering on the glass.

It wasn't Kaelen.

The number was restricted and untraceable.

As I slid my thumb across the screen, I felt my blood grow colder than the storm raging around my ankles.

You pushed me out sooner than I had anticipated. It was good of you to have kept quiet.

Just something to remember, Valkyrie: Chloe's heart monitor is controlled from a distance by our main facility.

If my son gives a single word about our little arrangement, her room will go silent.

Below the text was a sharp, high-resolution photograph showing my sister, Chloe, lying still in her hospital bed at the private care facility in Melbourne.

Her face was pale, and her hair was spread out over the white pillows, with the gentle blue light of the ventilator blinking in the background.

A person was standing near the bottom of the bed whose face had been deliberately cut off, and this individual was holding a tablet interface that was directly connected to her life-supporting IV line.

My knees gave way almost entirely as I held onto the edge of the cold stone bench that I wouldn't collapse onto the wet pavement.

Victoria Vance.

That manipulative and ruthless monster had planned every single move in this trap.

She was aware that I had discovered the shell companies which she was using to drain funds from Kaelen’s flagship subsidiary and that I was getting too near to exposing her, so she forced me into a corner.

She carried out the fake leak, copied my digital credentials, and then gave me an impossible choice: either take the blame and let Kaelen hate me or speak up and see my bedridden sister die.

I didn't choose to be silent; I was paying the price for my sister's life.

“I'm sorry, Kaelen," I whispered to the deserted alley as my tears finally broke free, flowing hot down my cold cheeks before being instantly wiped away by the downpour from above. "I'm so sorry."

I believed he saw me as a mercenary who had sold his corporate secrets for money.

He would hate my name for the rest of his life and swear revenge against the day he signed the contract with me.

And I had to accept that. I had to wear his hatred as armor, since if I had tried to get rid of it to prove him the truth, Chloe would have paid the price with her life.

When I opened my banking application, my hands began to shake.

Although Victoria's shadow reached a great distance, she had not taken all of the money yet. I accessed my private ledger, which was a small, hidden account that I had kept under an alias long before I had met Kaelen Vance.

If I handled the situation properly, the funds in it would be sufficient to pay for a cheap rental and for Chloe's basic, untraceable medication for a few months.

I wasn't able to remain in Melbourne, since Victoria had half of the city and Kaelen the other half; should either of them discover that I was pregnant, the illusion would break down, and the consequences would be fatal.

I wiped the water from my eyes, moved my suitcase towards me, and got up.

My body was filled with fatigue, and every instinct was telling me to lie down and give in to the cold.

Yet when my hand again settled over my stomach, a quiet and strong warmth flared up in the deepest part of my chest.

They took my husband and had stolen my reputation, but they left my child and did not kill my sister.

I took the handle of my suitcase and started towards the Southern Cross train station, turning my back on the shining, hollow towers of the Melbourne skyline.

I advanced three steps when my phone shook in my hand for the second time.

I looked down, anticipating yet another cruel threat from Victoria, but my pulse stopped in my veins when I saw the caller ID on the screen.

The message was an automatic alert sent out by the Melbourne Central Health Network.

Critical alert: The patient Chloe Callender has been urgently transferred out of the St. Jude Facility pursuant to an authorized family request. Her present location is unknown.

I stopped breathing altogether as the phone nearly slipped out of my wet fingers.

Victoria had not merely blackmailed me; she had, in fact, transferred my sister, who was dying, to a secret place.

And then my screen flickered, receiving a short text from a completely different unknown number: If you want to keep her heart beating, then you should not leave Victoria’s grid; I am watching you, Valkyrie.