Chapter 6

Dani barely slept.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the pregnancy test sitting on the table between her and Julian.

Saw his dark gaze fixed on her.

He knew something was wrong.

Maybe not the truth.

Not yet.

But he was getting closer.

And Julian Carter Vance wasn't the kind of man who abandoned a question once it lodged itself inside his head.

By the time dawn crept through the curtains of her apartment, Dani had given up on sleep completely.

She sat at her kitchen counter with a mug of coffee she'd barely touched.

The smell alone made her stomach churn.

That wasn't normal.

Coffee had practically been one of her food groups during fundraiser season.

Now she couldn't stand it.

Her phone displayed the appointment reminder.

9:30 AM

Her chest tightened.

Today made everything real.

Not a possibility.

Not a suspicion.

Not a positive test she could somehow convince herself was wrong.

Real.

She glanced at the clock.

8:14.

Plenty of time.

Yet she found herself checking every few minutes anyway.

As if staring at the time might somehow delay the inevitable.

It didn't.

Nothing did.

---

The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender.

Dani sat in a gray chair near the window.

Her purse rested in her lap.

Her knee bounced uncontrollably.

Around her, life continued normally.

A pregnant woman flipped through a magazine.

A young couple quietly discussed baby names.

An older man filled out paperwork.

Everyone looked calm.

Dani felt like she was sitting on the edge of a cliff.

"Daniella Mitchell?"

She looked up immediately.

The nurse smiled.

"Come with me."

Her stomach dropped.

This was it.

---

Twenty minutes later, Dani sat alone in an examination room.

The paper covering the examination table crinkled beneath her movements.

The walls felt too white.

Too bright.

Too clinical.

A knock sounded.

The doctor entered carrying a chart.

She smiled warmly.

"Good morning, Daniella."

Dani returned a weak smile.

"Morning."

The doctor sat down.

"Let's go over everything."

The conversation felt strangely surreal.

Questions.

Answers.

Dates.

Symptoms.

Medical history.

All things Dani answered automatically.

As if she were discussing someone else's life.

Finally, the doctor set the chart aside.

Her expression softened.

"Based on your test results and examination, you're approximately eight weeks pregnant."

The words landed heavily.

Eight weeks.

Two months.

Exactly as she'd feared.

The room suddenly felt very quiet.

Very still.

The doctor continued speaking.

Discussing vitamins.

Nutrition.

Appointments.

Things Dani knew she should listen to.

Yet only fragments registered.

Eight weeks.

Pregnant.

A baby.

Julian's baby.

The reality settled deeper with every passing second.

"Daniella?"

She blinked.

The doctor was watching her carefully.

"You alright?"

"Yes."

The answer came automatically.

Then her voice cracked.

"No."

The doctor offered a sympathetic smile.

"First pregnancies can feel overwhelming."

Overwhelming.

That was one word for it.

Terrifying seemed more accurate.

Dani looked down at her hands.

"What if I'm not ready?"

The question escaped before she could stop it.

The doctor's expression gentled further.

"Most people feel that way."

"But what if I really am not ready?"

The room fell silent.

Then the doctor asked quietly:

"Do you have support?"

Dani immediately thought of Julian.

And hated herself for it.

Because he wasn't support.

He wasn't anything.

He was her boss's husband.

The father of her child.

A man she was trying desperately to avoid.

Nothing about that situation qualified as support.

"No."

The word came out smaller than she intended.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully.

"You don't have to figure everything out today."

Maybe.

But eventually she would.

Eventually she'd have to decide what came next.

Eventually she'd have to tell someone.

Wouldn't she?

The thought made her chest tighten.

---

The ultrasound room was darker.

Quieter.

A monitor glowed softly beside the examination bed.

Dani lay back.

Her pulse raced.

The technician smiled reassuringly.

"Just relax."

Easy for her to say.

A moment later, the screen flickered.

Shapes appeared.

Blurry.

Unclear.

Difficult to understand.

Then the technician pointed.

"There."

Dani stared.

The room seemed to fade away.

The screen held her attention completely.

Because suddenly it wasn't abstract anymore.

It wasn't a test.

It wasn't paperwork.

It wasn't a diagnosis.

It was real.

A tiny life.

Small.

Fragile.

Existing.

Emotion rose unexpectedly inside her chest.

Powerful.

Overwhelming.

The technician adjusted something.

Then a sound filled the room.

Fast.

Steady.

Rhythmic.

Dani froze.

"What is that?"

The technician smiled.

"The heartbeat."

Everything stopped.

The world.

Her thoughts.

Her fears.

Everything.

Only the sound remained.

Fast.

Strong.

Alive.

A heartbeat.

Her baby's heartbeat.

Tears blurred her vision instantly.

She hadn't expected this.

Hadn't prepared for it.

The technician quietly handed her a tissue.

Dani barely noticed.

Because she couldn't stop listening.

Couldn't stop staring.

Couldn't stop feeling.

For the first time since discovering the pregnancy, fear wasn't the strongest emotion inside her.

Wonder was.

---

When she finally left the clinic, the morning sunlight felt brighter than before.

The city looked different.

The world looked different.

Because now she carried something real.

Someone real.

A hand rested unconsciously against her stomach.

The gesture surprised her.

Yet it felt natural.

Protective.

Instinctive.

Her phone buzzed.

The sound startled her.

She looked down.

A message from work.

Not Stella.

Not Julian.

One of the event coordinators.

A question about post-fundraiser reports.

Relief swept through her.

Ridiculous relief.

Because she'd spent the entire appointment half-expecting to see Julian's name appear.

Half-expecting another confrontation.

Nothing happened.

No calls.

No messages.

No billionaire demanding answers.

For the first time in days, she felt slightly calmer.

Maybe she'd worried for nothing.

Maybe Julian had decided to leave it alone.

Maybe—

Her phone rang.

The screen lit up.

Julian Carter Vance

Dani stopped walking.

Her pulse immediately accelerated.

Of course.

Of course it was him.

For several seconds she simply stared at the screen.

Then it stopped ringing.

Relief came.

Briefly.

A second later, it rang again.

Her stomach tightened.

Julian wasn't usually persistent.

The fact that he was calling twice meant something.

She declined the call.

Immediately.

The phone went silent.

Then buzzed with a message.

Answer your phone.

Dani closed her eyes.

The message was pure Julian.

No greeting.

No explanation.

No request.

A command.

Her thumb hovered over the screen.

Then she locked it and shoved the phone into her purse.

No.

Not today.

Today was already difficult enough.

Today belonged to her.

To the baby.

To figuring out how she was supposed to move forward.

She couldn't handle Julian too.

Not right now.

---

Back at her apartment, she dropped onto the couch and exhaled heavily.

The silence felt comforting.

For about thirty seconds.

Then her phone buzzed again.

Another message.

She hesitated before reading it.

Dani.

Just her name.

Nothing else.

The simplicity somehow felt more intimidating.

A second message arrived.

Call me.

Her heart skipped.

Because beneath the command, she sensed something unusual.

Concern.

Frustration.

Maybe both.

Julian wasn't angry.

Not yet.

He was worried.

And that worried her.

Because the more attention he paid, the more likely he was to discover the truth.

Dani set the phone face-down on the coffee table.

She wouldn't call him.

Not today.

Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe never.

She didn't know.

What she did know was this:

The secret was getting harder to protect.

Harder to carry alone.

And sooner or later, something would have to give.