My legs wouldn’t stop trembling, no matter how tightly I pressed them together.
My fingers kept tapping against the velvet box beside me, restless and unable to stay still. I inhaled slowly, trying to calm the nervous energy crawling under my skin, then looked down at the box.
It was small, wrapped in soft black velvet and tied with a satin ribbon I had redone three times before leaving the store.
Inside, it held a gold-plated rattle I bought an hour ago from a boutique downtown. There wasn’t a card or bouquet of flowers—just this tiny gift and the hope that it might spark something good again.
Hope that maybe—just maybe—this child would bring us back to the beginning.
“Surprise him,” my best friend had said over the phone. “Make it sweet. Remind him why he chose you.”
But deep down, I wasn’t sure he even remembered why he had.
My phone buzzed in my lap, pulling me from my thoughts. I reached for it quickly, expecting a promotional text or another message from my mother reminding me to stop slouching or criticizing my lipstick shade.
But the name on the screen made me freeze.
Killian Wolfe
I stared at it, confused. We had never texted each other before. Not once in five years. Even during holidays, when we sat across from each other at long marble dinner tables, we barely exchanged a glance, let alone a word.
I tapped the message open, heartbeat quickening.
“I’m coming home. Don’t tell Tobias.”
My stomach clenched. I read it again, then again, hoping the words would rearrange themselves into something more innocent. But they didn’t.
Killian was Tobias’s older stepbrother. He had always carried himself with a kind of deliberate distance—refined, unreadable, and colder than the rooms he walked into.
Everything about him felt razor-sharp, from the cut of his suits to the way he stared at people like he already knew how the conversation would end.
He never smiled at family events. He never stayed long. And yet his presence was heavy.
Tobias rarely spoke about him, but when he did, his jaw would tighten and his voice would drop an octave.
Killian’s name always arrived with tension—especially whenever inheritance or power was mentioned.
Now, out of nowhere, he was coming back?
Without a single explanation or context? Why did he feel need to warn and most importantly why wouldn’t he want his brother to know that he was coming back?
“Ma’am,” the driver said, slowing the car. “We’ve arrived.”
I looked out the window.
The Sinclair Tower stood tall and gleaming, forty floors of polished glass and unshakable power. Outside, two girls were laughing as they posed for selfies in front of the marble pillars.
Their excitement was familiar—painfully so.
I used to be that girl. The one who thought buildings like this held magic. That wealth meant safety. That love, when given by a man in a tailored suit, would never rot.
Until Tobias picked me. Kissed me. Promised forever— only to give me a cage wrapped in gold.
I stepped out of the car and smoothed my dress. Tonight, I would tell him. About the baby. About everything. And maybe, just maybe, we’d start over.
I released a shaky breath - this has to just work. God alone knows just how much I love Tobias and even though things have been rough these past couple of years,.. there’s nothing I want more than to get back to those years he’d smile at me and actually mean it.
So I’ve never given up on him - on what we had because I believed we could fix our marriage.
Perhaps this baby would be the way.
The elevator ride to the penthouse dragged. I didn’t check my phone again. My thoughts were fixed on him—on the look in his eyes when I told him. On the smile I missed. On the pieces of us I still hoped could be recovered.
The doors slid open and I stepped into the penthouse but frowned at how quiet the house was.
Too quiet.
No music. No TV. Not even the low hum of the AC.
I stepped into the penthouse slowly, my heels soft against the floors. I set my coat down and moved forward, scanning the room.
“Tobias?” I called out, voice low.
No answer.
Maybe he was asleep. Or maybe—
A woman’s laugh floated down the hallway and I froze.
I knew that voice - that laugh.
What the fuck was she doing here?
The laugh came again, followed by a breathy sound that made my skin crawl.
Then I heard him—Tobias. The sound he made was too familiar and it had me moving forward before my mind could register what was going on.
When I got to the door, it was slightly open so without thinking I pushed it the rest of the way.
And what I saw froze me to the floor. I’d have bet my eye balls were almost out of my face as I stared at MY HUSBAND, laying completely naked in bed with his body entangled with pale, skinny and annoyingly flawless skin that was naked too.
Veronica. His ex - wife.
Her legs were wrapped around his waist like she never left. Her hands were tangled in his hair, and her lips were curved in a lazy, satisfied smile.
I stood frozen, unable to make a sound, for five whole seconds watching the love of my life drive deep into his ex wife on our matrimonial bed.
Watching her nails drag his hair as she moaned recklessly.
For five whole seconds till I felt my stomach churn over like it was just about ready to empty its whole content.
It was Veronica who saw me first over his shoulders.
But to my shock she only grinned, “Oh look,” she said, not missing a beat, “she’s early.”
Tobias stopped moving and twisted to look at me with a frown. He didn’t startle - didn’t act shocked of at least scared that I had caught him cheating on me with his ex.
The bastard didn’t even have the decency to cover himself.
“Emery,” he said casually. “Didn’t expect you back this soon.”
I stepped into the room, glad that my muscles could still move but every breath I was taking felt like my insides were burning, “What is this?”
He sighed “It’s not what it looks like.”
I stared at him, disbelief clawing at my throat. “You’re serious? Because it looks exactly like you’re having sex with your ex-wife in our bed.”
Veronica pulled the sheet across her chest, though the smirk on her face remained. “God, you always did have a flair for the dramatic.”
I turned my eyes back to Tobias. The man I had built my life around. The one I had believed in even when he gave me nothing to hold onto.
“What is going on, Tobias?”
He left the bed, walking to the bar like we were just having a late-night drink. He poured himself something brown and expensive.
“You weren’t supposed to see this yet.”
“See what?” I asked, feeling my voice crack. “That you’ve been cheating on me?”
He shrugged in response and a heavy breath left me. Words failed me and all I could do was stare at Tobias in shock - the way he was non chalant about the whole thing. The absence of remorse in his eyes.
The way he was acting like this was just an every day occurrence.
My eyes blurred with unshed tears but I blinked them away angrily.
“Why?!” I whispered brokenly, “how could you…”
“Tobias..” Veronica’s whiny voice interrupted me and we both turned to look at her, “I warned you about this but you promised me she wouldn’t get angry. You know the last thing I want is to be the reason you are fighting with her.”
He promised I wouldn’t get angry?
He promised I wouldn’t what?!
Tobias set down his cup and moved to hold her hand, and seeing that made my blood boil more.
“You don’t have to bother yourself baby. It’s just Emery. She reacts like this but she will come around. She always does.”
“Excuse me?!”
“You know, you do not have to stand here and act like you have the right to question any of my actions, Emery.” Tobias hissed staring daggers at me.
“I don’t have the right? I just saw you…fucking your ex in our matrimonial home?”
“So what?”
I staggered back, blinking hard.
“What?”
“So what if I was fucking her? What are you gonna do about it? Leave me?” His laughter mixed with Veronica’s giggle as if there was something funny about the thought of me leaving him.
“You know damn well that you can’t leave, Emery. You cannot survive without me and you know it. That’s why you have been nothing but a desperate house slave for the past five years cos you know that you need me - you need the life I offered you on a platter of gold. So when you are done throwing silly tantrums, go downstairs and make us something to eat. I’ve burnt lots of calories.”
Each word out of his lips teared at my heart like the edge of a double sided sword and before I could hold it in I felt a tear roll down my cheek followed by smother.
I have been nothing but desperate? For the past five years - five years of hoping, wishing for something more he just thought it was me being desperate cos I cannot survive without him?
I shook my head, “why are you doing this to me? I thought…”
“Again I do not owe you an explanation, Emery. You are nothing more than a worthless trophy I keep at home just for the news.”
I clenched my fists refusing to let those words hurt me but they did anyway - with a force that almost swept me off my feet.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked again and promised myself that was the last question I’d ask. I needed to know because perhaps that would make whatever comes next easier.
He shrugged, “I never stopped seeing Veronica.”
The words shattered something inside me.
“What?”
“She was always the one. You were just there until we could make it work again.”
I felt the room tilt beneath me.
“What?
“You were safe and easy to manage. For the media most especially because I couldn’t show Veronica as my wife after the whole scandal.”
I took a step back, nausea threatening to rise. “So none of it was real?”
He shrugged. “Not everything was fake. I cared about you. Still do, in a way.”
I stared at him through tears I hadn’t realized were falling. My voice came out quieter than I expected.
“I’m pregnant.”
His hand stopped mid-motion as he reached to grab the glass of drink.
Even Veronica froze.
“I found out this morning,” I said, barely holding it together. “You’re going to be a father.”
Tobias turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “Is it mine?”
Pain hit me like a slap. “You think I’ve been with someone else?”
“You’ve been distant. Secretive.”
“I was planning a surprise,” I said, my voice cracking. “I thought this would bring us closer again.”
“Well,” he said, setting his drink down, “you were wrong.”
I took a shaky breath. “I’m keeping the baby.”
“No,” he said, his tone final. “You’re not.”
“What are you talking about?”
He looked at Veronica. “Get the pill.”
My entire body turned cold. “You’re not serious.”
“She’s not having it,” he continued, like I wasn’t even standing there. “It’ll ruin everything we’ve built.”
Veronica moved toward the drawer without question and pulled something out.
“Tobias—please. Don’t do this.”
He turned back to me, face hard. “You don’t get to decide this. You don’t get to trap me with a child.”
“I’m not planning to trap you. You can do whatever you want - you will never hear from me again.”
“No,” he said sharply. “What do you think the media will say about that? Yoh are just going to put my whole reputation in jeopardy. Get the fucking pill and give it to her!”
My chest felt like it caved in.Veronica returned with a foil packet and a bottle of water.
“Take it,” Tobias ordered, voice like ice.
I backed away. “No.”
He lunged, grabbing my wrist and forcing me down onto the mattress.
“Tobias—stop!”
“Take the pill, Emery!”
I struggled, fought with every ounce of strength I had left. But his grip was firm. Veronica shoved the packet into his hand and tilted the water bottle toward him.
“Please,” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t do this.”
He pressed the pill against my lips. Veronica poured the water.
I gagged. Tried to spit it out. But it slid down my throat before I could stop it.
When he let go, I curled into myself, shaking uncontrollably. My body felt hollow. Violated.
Tobias adjusted his reflection in the mirror, brushing his fingers through his hair.
“That was necessary,” he said with maddening calm. “You’ll understand someday.”
Veronica scoffed and pulled the sheet back over herself. “You always did overreact.”
I stood slowly, my entire frame trembling.
“I will never forgive you,” I whispered.
He didn’t even turn. “You always say that. And guess what? You always come back like the pathetic excuse of a woman you are.”
Tears spilled down my eyes and I didn’t try to stop it.
I had done this to myself. Somehow in the past five years o had reduced myself to nothing more than a ‘pathetic excuse of a woman’ giving Tobias and perhaps everyone else the freedom and power to play around with me.
Grace takes her first wobbly step toward Killian, and time stops completely.The boardroom goes silent. Twelve executives freeze mid-conversation as our eleven-month-old daughter lets go of her play mat and lurches forward on unsteady legs, arms stretched toward her father with pure determination.“Did she just—” Tom starts.“Shh,” Killian whispers, not taking his eyes off Grace as she takes another wobbling step.One step. Two. Three steps before she topples forward into Killian's waiting arms.“She walked!” he announces to the room, his voice cracking with emotion. “Did everyone see that? Grace just walked!”“We saw,” Loretta says, grinning. “That was beautiful.”“First steps during quarterly review,” another board member observes. “Should we put that in the meeting minutes?”“We're putting that in the family history,” Killian says, kissing Grace's head while she babbles proudly in his arms. “She chose to walk to Daddy during an important business meeting.”“She chose to walk becaus
The UN Secretary-General wants Emery's input on global women's initiatives, and Grace comes along for the ride.“Mrs. Wolfe, the Secretary-General will see you now,” the aide says, glancing nervously at the stroller Killian is maneuvering through the UN security checkpoint.“Is the baby accompanying you to the meeting?” she asks carefully.“The baby goes where we go,” Killian replies with the tone that signals non-negotiable family policy.“Of course. Right this way.”I watch our ten-month-old daughter take in the marble corridors and international flags with the serious attention she brings to all new environments. Grace has been traveling with us since she was old enough to leave the apartment, accumulating passport stamps like other babies collect toys.“She's very alert,” the aide observes as Grace studies the passing diplomats and security personnel.“She's very curious about everything,” I say. “Especially new faces and voices.”“How does she handle diplomatic meetings?”“Better
The trust fund documents are thicker than most novels, and Grace can't even walk yet.I stare at the stack of legal papers spread across our dining room table while Killian reviews each page with the same intensity he brings to major acquisitions. Grace sits in her high chair nearby, methodically destroying a piece of toast while her parents plan her financial future.“Education trust is fully funded through doctoral level at any accredited institution worldwide,” our attorney says, pointing to specific clauses. “Medical trust covers any health needs, including experimental treatments not covered by standard insurance.”“What about security provisions?” Killian asks.“Comprehensive personal protection funding, residential security allowances, transportation safety requirements. Everything you specified.”“Housing trust?”“Properties in New York, London, and any additional locations she chooses as an adult. Plus maintenance, taxes, and staff as needed.”Grace drops her toast and claps
At six months old, Grace has Killian wrapped around her tiny finger.I watch from the nursery doorway as he lies on the floor beside her during tummy time, making ridiculous faces and sounds to encourage her attempts at rolling over. Grace pushes up on her arms, wobbles for a moment, then collapses with a frustrated gurgle.“Almost, beautiful girl,” Killian says encouragingly. “You are getting stronger every day.”“She's six months old, not training for the Olympics.”“She's developing core strength and motor skills. This is crucial foundation work for crawling, walking, and eventual athletic coordination.”“Or she's a baby playing on a blanket.”“Same thing, different perspective.”Grace makes another determined effort, this time managing to hold herself up for several seconds before toppling over. Killian immediately celebrates like she's just won a gold medal.“Did you see that? Six seconds! That's three seconds longer than yesterday!”“You are timing her tummy time?”“I'm document
The boardroom has been converted to accommodate a bassinet, and nobody dares comment.I stand in the doorway watching twelve board members pretend that having a sleeping baby in the middle of their quarterly review meeting is completely normal. The portable bassinet sits between Killian's chair and the presentation screen, complete with its own noise machine and temperature monitor.“Revenue projections for Q3 show steady growth,” Tom reports, gesturing carefully around Grace's sleeping form. “ ”Asia-Pacific markets have exceeded expectations.“ ”Grace makes a soft sound, and every head in the room turns toward her before quickly snapping back to attention.“Excellent,” Killian says, making notes while simultaneously checking the baby monitor app on his phone. “What about the Henderson merger timeline?”“On track for December completion, assuming no regulatory delays.”“Good. Contingency plans if there are delays?”“Fully developed and ready to implement.”I settle into the chair they
The nursery feels sacred as we carry Grace across the threshold for the first time.Killian holds her like she's made of spun glass while I trail behind, still moving carefully after yesterday's marathon labor. The room looks exactly as we planned—soft cream walls, elegant furniture, and enough security equipment to protect a small nation's leader.“Temperature is perfect,” Killian announces, checking the digital readout on the climate control system. “Humidity levels are optimal. Air filtration running smoothly.”“She's not a hothouse flower Killian.”“She's our daughter. Same thing.”Grace sleeps peacefully through her father's environmental monitoring, apparently unbothered by the transition from hospital to home. I settle into the rocking chair while Killian performs what I'm starting to recognize as his security sweep—checking camera angles, testing motion sensors, ensuring everything functions according to his specifications.“The crib placement is wrong,” he says suddenly.“Wro