Chapter 7

SLOANE

I didn’t cry when I left the hospital.

Not when the nurse handed me my discharge papers with a careful smile, not when I signed the final documents with trembling fingers, and not even when I stepped out into the open air with nothing but a suitcase and a future that looked nothing like what I had imagined four years ago.

Crying felt pointless now. There was no one left to see it, no one left to care.

The sunlight hit my face, warm and almost mocking, as if the world had the audacity to continue as though mine hadn’t just fallen apart. I tightened my grip on my suitcase and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, my other hand instinctively resting on my stomach.

It had become a habit, a silent reassurance.

“You and me,” I whispered under my breath, my lips barely moving. “We’ll be fine.”

Even as I said it, I didn’t know if I believed it.

I found a small café a few blocks away from the hospital, mostly because my legs refused to carry me any further. The place was quiet, tucked into a corner, the faint smell of coffee and baked bread lingering in the air.

I sat by the window, my suitcase beside me, and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu.

I needed to start thinking like this now.

My fingers wrapped around the warm cup as I pulled out my phone. I hesitated for a second before opening the news.

I already knew what I would see, but seeing it hit different. My breath caught in my throat.

“ARDENIAN HEIR SCANDAL: CEO DIVORCES WIFE OVER INFIDELITY.”

“INSIDE THE FALL OF SLOANE ARDENIAN — CHEATING ALLEGATIONS SURFACE.”

“MISTRESS PREGNANT, WIFE EXPOSED.”

A shaky laugh escaped me, low and bitter.

“Of course,” I murmured, scrolling through the articles, each headline more humiliating than the last. “Why wouldn’t they?”

There were pictures too. Old photos of me standing beside Killian at events, smiling like I belonged there. Like I was loved.

I looked like a stranger.

“They don’t even know the truth,” I whispered, my grip tightening around my phone.

But the world didn’t care about truth, they cared about stories. And right now, I was the villain in one that was spreading faster than I could even process.

I dropped my phone onto the table, my appetite gone. So this was it? This was what I had been reduced to.

Not Sloane, not a woman who had loved, sacrificed, endured.

Just, a cheating ex-wife.

Later that afternoon, I found myself sitting on a bench outside a bank, staring blankly at the receipt in my hand.

“That’s all?” I whispered, my voice hollow.

The numbers didn’t change no matter how many times I looked at them. It wasn’t much, but it wasn’t nothing either.

Over the years, I had quietly saved bits and pieces. Money Killian had given me, allowances I didn’t spend, gifts I converted into cash when I could.

I had never thought I would need it like this.

“This is it,” I said softly, folding the paper carefully and slipping it into my bag. “This is all we have.”

My hand drifted to my stomach again as I took a deep breath. It would have to be enough.

The next few days blurred together.

Applications, emails, interviews and rejections. A lot of rejections.

Over and over again.

I sat across from a woman in a sleek office, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes as she flipped through my file.

“You have an impressive background, Mrs… Sloane,” she said, pausing briefly before deliberately dropping the Ardenian name.

I noticed.

“Thank you,” I replied quietly, keeping my posture straight despite the exhaustion creeping into my bones.

She placed the file down and folded her hands neatly on the table.

“However…” Her tone softened in the way people’s voices did when they were about to disappoint you. “Given the current… situation surrounding your public image, we don’t think it would be appropriate to move forward.”

My lips parted slightly.

“I assure you,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “those reports are not—”

“It’s not about whether they’re true or not,” she interrupted gently, almost apologetically. “It’s about perception.”

I swallowed.

“So you’re rejecting me because of rumors?” I asked, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

She held my gaze for a moment before nodding. “Yes.”

The finality in that single word settled heavily in my chest. “Thank you for your time,” I said, forcing a small smile as I stood.

By the fifth rejection, I stopped trying to defend myself, by the seventh, I stopped asking why. And the tenth, I stopped hoping.

I sat on the edge of my bed that night, my laptop open in front of me, dozens of unanswered applications staring back at me like silent confirmations of what I was slowly beginning to understand.

“There’s no place for me here,” I whispered.

Not in Norcane anymore. This city had taken everything from me.

My marriage, my reputation and my future.

I let out a slow breath, closing my laptop.

“Then I’ll leave,” I said firmly, the decision settling into me with surprising clarity. “I’ll start over somewhere else.”

Anywhere else, with a clean slate, in a place where no one knew my name, where no one looked at me and saw scandal.

In hours, I had decided what city I wanted to move to and I was halfway through booking my ticket when my phone buzzed.

An email notification that I almost ignored it. I clicked it open and it was from an unknown sender.

No subject, just a single attachment.

A video.

My brows furrowed slightly as I tapped on it, confusion flickering through me.

“Who…” I murmured. The video loaded and everything inside me stopped. “No…” The word slipped out, barely audible.

My fingers tightened around my phone as my eyes locked onto the screen. A frail figure lay on a hospital bed, pale, unmoving and barely recognizable.

But I knew her.

“Mum…” My voice broke, my vision blurring instantly as tears flooded my eyes.

Her hair was thinner, her skin looked almost translucent. Machines surrounded her, their quiet beeping the only sign that she was still alive.

“What happened to you?” I whispered, my chest tightening painfully as I pressed a hand to my mouth.

The video ended abruptly, leaving behind silence and a thousand questions.

My breathing turned uneven as I stared at the blank screen. “No… no, no, no…” I shook my head, my heart racing wildly. “This isn’t… this can’t be…”

I didn’t think about starting over somewhere new. I didn’t think about anything except that my mother was dying.

I decided to go back to Velmora. The place I had sworn never to return to. The place that had broken me before I ever met Killian.

But none of that mattered now.

The airport was crowded, loud and overwhelming but my mind was elsewhere, my heart pounding with urgency as I clutched my ticket tightly in my hand.

One-way, no turning back. I shifted my weight slightly, my free hand resting protectively over my stomach.

The announcement for boarding echoed through the terminal, pulling me from my thoughts and as I grabbed my suitcase and took a step forward, my phone buzzed again.

I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was a message from Killian. My chest tightened instantly.

For a moment, I considered deleting it without reading but my fingers betrayed me.

Killian: We need to talk.

I let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Now?” I muttered and another message came in almost immediately.

Killian: Since we were married, I can still help you.

I frowned slightly, my grip tightening around the phone. Help me? With what?

The third message came.

Killian: I can clear your name.

My heart skipped, then slammed violently against my ribs, my fingers trembling slightly as I read the next line.

Killian: But you have to tell me the truth. Whose baby are you carrying, Sloane?