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The scent of antiseptic filled the small hospital room. Tessa’s hands trembled as the nurse smiled, holding the ultrasound report like a fragile promise.
All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. Months of pills, hormone injections, and doctor visits had drained her both physically and emotionally. And now, maybe… a flicker of hope. Maybe, finally, a chance to give her fiancé what he wanted: a child. Their child. “Congratulations, Miss Quinn.” The nurse smiled. “You’re pregnant.” “Yes!” Tessa squealed. “I’m finally pregnant with Grayson’s baby!” A shaky breath escaped her lips and her eyes sparkled with hope. Finally. After all the heartache and desperation, she could give Grayson the baby he wanted so badly. The baby who would secure his place as heir to Thorne Industries, just like Grayson’s father’s will had demanded. This wasn’t just about her anymore. It was about survival. She clutched the report close, imagining Grayson’s smile, the relief flooding his face. This was their future, her future. Tessa grabbed her purse and jolted out of the hospital in a hurry, excited to share the news. The elevator dinged open to their high-rise apartment floor. Her heart raced as she fumbled with her keys. She stepped inside, expecting silence, peace, and maybe a smile from Grayson. Instead, laughter spilled from the living room. Grayson lounged on the velvet couch, an arm wrapped possessively around a woman Tessa knew too well — his secretary, Sofia. Tall, sleek, with an amused smirk curling her lips. “Grayson,” Tessa’s voice cracked like glass. “What’s happening?” He didn’t even look up. “You again. What are you doing here?” Her fists clenched. “You think I’m stupid? I should be asking you. After everything I’ve put myself through? The pills, the appointments I dragged myself to even when I was shaking, the sleepless nights wondering if this would finally be our chance — and this is how you repay me?” Grayson shrugged, cold and unapologetic. “You’ve been nothing but a disappointment, Tessa. I don’t even think you can get pregnant.” The words hit her like ice water. “No,” she hissed, stepping closer, her voice low but fierce. “I’ve done everything. Every damn thing. How can you treat me like this?” Sofia chuckled, sharp and cruel. “Maybe you’re just not the right one, Tessa. Maybe I’m the one who can actually give Grayson what he wants.” Grayson smirked. “She’ll give me my heir,” he said, rubbing Sofia’s belly. “You’re nothing but a broken failure.” “How dare you speak to me like this?” Tessa snapped. Sofia stood, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Don’t pretend you were ever enough for him.” Grayson laughed darkly. “You’re dried up, Tessa. You’ve been lying to me the whole time. You can’t bear my heir. No baby is coming. At least not from you.” Her hands balled into fists. “How dare you? I’ve done everything for us. For you.” He smirked. “And look where it got you. Get out of my sight. Just looking at you makes me sick.” Her voice grew sharper, fueled by anger and heartbreak. “You fucking bastard. How can you do this?” she demanded, dragging at his shirt. Before he could reply, the front door swung open. His mother — Eleanor — stepped in, regal and cold, her eyes like daggers aimed at Tessa. “Get your filthy hands off my son. How dare you question him for you not being able to carry his baby? You sterile piece of junk.” Tessa’s breath hitched. “That’s not true.” Eleanor’s lips curled. “I’m not wrong. You’re weak, incapable of giving us what we need.” Sofia leaned in, her voice silky and cruel. “I will give Grayson the heir he deserves. You’re just a broken woman.” “Would you shut up, you home wrecker?” Tessa snapped, lunging at Sofia, rage blazing in her eyes. But Grayson caught her, shoving her backwards. Before she knew it, his hand flew across her face, giving her a burning slap. His mother’s eyes narrowed in approval and Sofia smirked. “Grayson. How dare you? How dare you hit me?” Tessa sniffed. “That’s enough, Tessa. I am done with you. Now get out of my house.” Tears blurred her vision as pain and humiliation washed over her. “Fine. I see who you truly are now. And I never want to have anything to do with you again. I hope this home-wrecker can give you babies.” “Yeah. Yeah. Get out!” He chuckled, brushing her off. Furious and broken, Tessa pulled the crumpled report from her purse. “You think you know everything? You don’t.” She tore it in two, the pieces fluttering in the air before she shoved them into his face. “See that? That’s the truth you refuse to accept.” Grayson sneered, wiping his cheek. “You’re delusional.” She spun away, her heart pounding, tears burning her eyes. The apartment door slammed shut behind her. “Silly girl,” his mother said as Tessa stormed out of the room. “What’s this nonsense now?” Eleanor bent down, her fingers brushing the torn pieces of paper scattered on the floor. Her eyes scanned the shattered report and widened in realization. “Grayson.” A slow, satisfied smile curled her lips. “What is it, Mom?” He turned to face her. “She’s pregnant,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “She really is pregnant.” Sofia narrowed her brows. Her knuckles turned white as Grayson grabbed the piece of paper from his mother’s hand. His eyes scanned the page. His heart thudded in his chest as he saw the pregnancy confirmation. “Go after her,” his mother scowled. “She’s carrying your heir — and that baby will change everything.”Davin’s flashlight beam swept the spare bedroom again, slower this time, taking it all in.The wall was a nightmare mapped out in photographs and red markers.There were so many photos. Roman leaving the hospital after the shooting—his arm in a sling, his face grim.Tessa was on the terrace steps, newspaper in her lap, oblivious.Grayson clutching his side the night he was stabbed, blood staining his shirt.All private moments. Impossible angles.The will reading at the Thorne estate—grainy zoom through a window.Liam’s pregnancy announcement dinner—candlelight reflecting off glasses.Tessa and Roman on the rooftop, tangled under the blanket, fairy lights glowing.Nandini being rushed into the ER, and Roman carrying her.“What the fuck?” Davin murmured, voice barely audible.Each photo had a thick red cross slashed over the face.Everyone, except Salima’s.Her picture was pinned dead centre, unmarked.Davin’s skin crawled. He figured she was the next target.His mind raced. Who the he
The conference room on the forty-second floor of the new Blackwood Hotel overlooked the frozen Chicago skyline. The space was all glass and dark wood, sleek and imposing—just like the man at the head of the table.Roman Blackwood leaned back in his chair, his hands loosely clasped, a faint, genuine smile on his face for the first time in days. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that Cross Corp chose to partner with us on this,” he said, voice smooth and confident. “Giving Blackwood Hotels this opportunity—it means more than I can say.”Damien Cross, the younger brother, nodded with an approving smile. “You earned it, Roman. The numbers spoke for themselves. And frankly, we like working with people who don’t waste our time.”Sebastian, older and sharper-edged, leaned forward. “We’ve watched your moves. They’re impressive. Aggressive when it needs to be, smart when it counts.We’re looking forward to seeing what you do with this property.”Roman inclined his head. “I know we’ll be
Salima stepped into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her with a soft thud.The house was silent, the kind of heavy quiet that pressed in after a long, draining night.She slipped off her earrings, setting them on the dresser, then reached for the zipper of her emerald blouse.A knock echoed through the empty hallway—three sharp knocks on the front door downstairs.She froze, hand still on the zipper. It was late. Too late for visitors.Salima pulled a scarf tight around her shoulders and walked downstairs, bare feet silent on the marble. At the door, she paused, listening.“Who is it?” she called, voice steady but edged.“It’s me,” Victor answered, low and familiar through the wood. “Victor.”She hesitated for a long second, then unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to see him standing on the porch, coat collar turned up against the December chill.“What do you want, Victor?” she asked, her tone cool, arms folded.He looked tired, the lines around his eyes deeper
Two Months laterThe nursery was quiet except for the soft creak of the rocking chair Tessa refused to sit in.The street lamps spilt through the curtains, creating stripes across the half-finished crib.A mobile with tiny stars and moons Roman had hung himself—moved gently in the air.Tessa stood rigid, one hand resting on the smooth wooden rail, the other cradling the swell of her belly.She was five months pregnant now and she hadn’t been able to sleep for days, not really. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Roman’s blood on the pavement, or heard Salima’s voice:“You may be carrying the heir—but now you’re players in the game.”She leaned down, her fingers brushing the place where her baby moved.“I won’t let them touch you,” she whispered, the promise fierce and fragile at once. “Not Eleanor. Not anyone.”Her phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting the room blue.It was Roman.She picked up immediately.“Hey,” she said, her voice soft, trying to keep the exhaustion
Salima swallowed as the knock came again.She ended the call and sent a single text to Roman.“He called. I think he’s outside.”She set the phone down on the kitchen island and reached for the knife rack. Her fingers wrapped around the handle with practised calm. No shaking. No hesitation.She moved toward the door, every step measured, the blade steady in her palm.“Who is it?” she called.But no one answered.Her jaw tightened. She unlocked the door and swung it open in one sharp motion.“Victor?” She gasped.Victor stood there, his grey hair falling across his face, dressed too neatly for the hour. His smile came easy—too easy.Salima took a step forward. “What…what are you—”“Hi, Salima,” Victor said lightly. “You look… worried.”Her grip on the knife didn’t loosen, but she lowered it just enough to keep it out of sight.“Sorry,” she said coolly. “I thought you were someone else.”His eyes flicked down—then back up. He noticed the knife.Victor’s brows lifted just slightly. “I se
Davin stared at the man in front of him, his gaze sweeping over his brown-skinned torso once again.“So… what’s the explanation for that?” Davin asked. “You’re as fresh as the day, yet I have a video of a knife going through you.”Arjun looked at him, his spine straightening.“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he murmured.Davin sighed. “Look, Arjun… I’m not here for you. But I am looking for someone else—and I know you’re working with them.”“Once again,” Arjun said, unyielding, “I have no idea what you’re saying. I have nothing to hide.”“Okay,” Davin said evenly. “Then you won’t mind me taking you in for questioning.”Arjun exhaled—and before Davin could blink, he bolted.“Hey—!” Davin lunged forward, instinct kicking in as Arjun shoved past him and tore down the narrow hallway.“Stop!” Davin barked, already chasing him.Arjun didn’t look back.He took the stairs two at a time, bare feet slapping hard against concrete, the sound echoing like gunshots in the stairwell.Davi







