LOGINElena
I blinked at her words. Fiancé?
I didn't know who she was talking about, but as long as Arthur’s name was off the table and no one was trying to drag me into a room with a man who used his fists to talk, I couldn't care less.
"Congratulations, Isabella," I said softly. "Mom and Dad are obviously thrilled."
Isabella didn't even look up from her fingernails, currently being buffed by a maid. "Thanks, Elena. It's a big deal, after all."
"Yes, it is," Mom snapped. "Isabella is going to be the most powerful woman in Manhattan. If you really want to congratulate her, the best gift you can give this family is staying completely out of the way. Don't make a scene, don't throw your little tantrums, and for heaven's sake, fix your posture."
"Your mother is right," my father added. "The Blackwoods are old money and ruthless. One slip-up, one pathetic rumor from your little outbursts, and this entire deal could hit a bump. Keep your mouth shut and stay in your room if you can't manage a pleasant face."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Right. Of course."
I turned and walked upstairs, the sound of their shared laughter following me all the way up.
The next three months were a blur of preparation. The mansion smelled constantly of fresh lilies, high-end perfume, and panic. Isabella lived in a state of euphoria. Every day brought armfuls of designer garment bags, custom jewelry cases, and caterers vying for a spot at the upcoming engagement gala.
"He did it," Isabella squealed one rainy Thursday afternoon, bursting through the front doors and throwing her coat at a maid. "Mom! Dad! He actually did it!"
My mother rushed out of the morning room, hands clasped to her chest. "What happened, darling?"
"The dinner," Isabella beamed, her cheeks flushed a bright, radiant pink as she held up her right hand, where a modest but flawless diamond sparkled. "Right after Mr. Blackwood and Mrs. Blackwood finished speaking to me, Aeron took me into the garden. He went down on one knee himself, Mother. Said a woman of my standing deserved nothing less than perfection."
My father stepped out, grinning from ear to ear. "Aeron Blackwood himself?"
"Yes! He was so dignified, so quiet," Isabella practically sang, kicking off her heels. "He barely said two words during dinner, but when he gave me the ring, he looked straight into my eyes. He’s completely captivated, Mom. I could tell."
I stood near the top of the staircase, leaning heavily against the dark wood banister. My head was spinning from her noise. It was almost as if everything was somehow getting to me, even though I wasn't allowed to participate in any of the preparations. Every sound echoed ten times louder in my head, and every plate of food being carried around only made me more and more nauseous. It didn't help that heavy scents of perfume clung to every part of the house. I didn't dare tell anyone. Mom would only complain about how I was trying to steal the spotlight from Isabella and call me dramatic.
The day of the engagement finally arrived. The estate was packed with Manhattan’s elite—senators, CEOs, media moguls, and high-society matriarchs all sipping thousand-dollar champagne under sprawling crystal chandeliers. I had spent an hour trying to zip up the pale gray gown my mother had ordered for me, my breath catching as the zipper stuck halfway up my ribs.
"What is taking you so long?" my mother demanded, sweeping into my room without knocking. She stopped, her eyes narrowing as she took in my reflection in the full-length mirror. "Elena, have you been gorge-eating in your room? Look at your waist! You look swollen. You’re bulging out of a dress tailored to your exact measurements!"
"I haven't been eating much at all, Mom," I whispered, holding my breath as she violently yanked the zipper up, digging the teeth into my skin. "I just... I haven't been feeling well."
"I don't care about your delicate little stomach," she hissed, smoothing the silk over my hips with unnecessary force. "You look heavy. Put on a wrap to hide your waist, pinch some color into those pale cheeks, and get downstairs. The Blackwood family is arriving in ten minutes, and you will stand behind your sister and look happy."
Downstairs, the noise was deafening. Reporters flashed cameras near the entrance, and the maids carried around trays of pastries and drinks.
My back was killing me, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.
"Pastry, miss?"
A waiter stopped in front of me, hovering a silver tray laden with smoked salmon and warm cream puffs under my nose.
The rich, buttery smell turned my stomach instantly. "No..." I choked out, clapping a hand over my mouth. "Excuse me."
I shoved past him, shocking a group of ladies standing nearby, and bolted up the back staircase toward the first restroom I could find. Dropping to my knees, I retched into the bowl, heaving until tears started stinging my eyes.
It took almost twenty minutes before I gathered myself again. Dragging myself to the sink, I splashed cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror.
My skin was ghostly pale, my eyes bloodshot. My gaze slowly drifted down to my waist. I reached up my hands slowly and cupped my breasts. They were heavy and tender. Thinking about how much they'd ached these past few months, my blood ran cold instantly.
"No," I whispered, my voice trembling. "No, no, no. It was one night. It was one time. There's no way..."
I bolted out and hurried down the silent hallway to my parents' master bedroom. Mom always kept a stash of test strips, still hoping for a son. I found them hidden behind perfume bottles in the bottom drawer and pulled one out.
One minute. Two minutes.
My hands shook as I watched the lines.
One line.
I sucked in a breath. Waiting. Hoping.
Then, another line.
Positive.
The air rushed out of my lungs. The world dropped out from beneath my feet.
"Oh God," I breathed, clutching my stomach as a sob tore from my throat. "Oh God, no."
A stranger. A man whose name I didn't even know. A face I had seen only in the dim light of a hotel room four months ago. I was twenty-four, penniless, and already hated by my family.
How was I going to face Mom? This was the point where they were finally going to disown me.
Shoving the test strip into the bottom of the trash can and covering it with tissues, I washed my face and dragged myself out of the room. It was going to be even more of a nightmare if Mom had to come up the stairs to look for me.
It took everything in me to stop myself from slipping down the stairs with each step I took.
The music stopped the moment I got to the floor. My father's voice boomed through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen," his words were filled with pride and joy, "may I have your attention, please? Tonight, the Vale family is beyond honored to officially welcome a merger of not just two great companies, but two legendary legacies."
The crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause.
"To my beautiful daughter, Isabella," my father continued, smiling down at her as she stood in the center of the floor, glowing in her dress, "and to the man who will soon be her husband..."
My father raised his glass. "Mr. Aeron Blackwood."
The crowd parted.
A tall man stepped out from the shadows and into the bright light of the chandelier. He wore a tailored, charcoal-black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and commanding frame. His dark hair was styled back, his jawline sharp, sculpted, and dark with faint stubble. His dark eyes were cold, distant, and completely unreadable as he walked toward Isabella.
My heart stopped. All noise faded into the background.
That face. The same hands that had gripped my waist. The same man who had held me while I cried into his chest.
There's no way...No!
No. Please don't....He did.
Stopping in front of Isabella, he took her hand in his and lifted her knuckles to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers right above the diamond ring.
Isabella beamed, throwing her head back in delighted, victorious laughter as the crowd burst into thunderous applause.
The room tilted.
He is her fiancé. H..he is my sister's fiancé.
And the baby inside me... is his.
The air left my lungs completely, and my knees buckled. Before I could reach out to grab the pillar beside me, darkness rushed in, and my world went completely black.
Elena"I said get in, Elena," the voice repeated, sharp and unyielding over the heavy drum of the rain.I stood completely frozen under the shelter’s metal roof, my wet duffel bag clutched tightly against my ribs. The bright headlights cut straight through the darkness, blinding me as the driver leaned across the console to push the passenger door open. Warm, dry air rushed out into the freezing night, carrying the scent of rich leather, expensive cologne, and cold rain.It was Aeron Blackwood.My heart slammed violently against my ribs, so hard I thought it would shatter. Of all the people in this massive city, of all the dark shadows that could have pulled up to this empty bus stop, it had to be him. The powerful, ruthless man who had taken my innocence in that dark hotel room just weeks ago. The man who was supposed to marry my sister Isabella in a matter of months."I... I can't," I stammered, my voice breaking into a fragile whisper against the noise of the storm. My boots felt r
Elena"He will drag you to that clinic himself, Elena," my mother’s cold voice echoed in my head, right alongside the sharp, final click of the key turning in the lock.I jumped off the mattress and threw myself against the wooden surface. I grabbed the brass handle and shook it with all my strength, over and over, until the metal rattled against the frame."Mom! Open this door! You can't keep me in here! Please, Mom!"Only silence answered me. Then came the soft, rhythmic sound of her footfalls fading down the hallway carpet."Mom!" I screamed, slamming my open palms against the hard wood until the skin stung with a sharp, burning heat.Hot tears blurred my vision, spilling over my eyelashes and dripping down my neck. She wasn't bluffing. She was really going to tell my father. When he got home from his business dinner, he wouldn't argue with me. He wouldn't listen to my pleas or look at my tears. He would grab my arm, drag me out to the car, and force me into that doctor's office hi
ElenaMom didn't scream. Instead, she sat slowly beside me, her voice trembling. "How... how in God's name did this happen, Elena?"I choked back a sob, and with my voice breaking at every second word, I told her everything.When I finished, her hands moved slowly to cup mine. I cried harder at the warmth of her fingers. I couldn't remember the last time she'd looked at me so tenderly."Does..." She closed her eyes and swallowed. "Does he know?"I shook my head violently. "No. No, he doesn't. He probably doesn't even remember my face. It was dark, and he seemed a bit drunk and all."Mom let out a long breath, opening her eyes. Slowly, her hands dropped from mine."Then it's all good. There's no problem then."I looked up at her. "No problem?"She nodded. "All we have to do is get rid of it. No need to cause a scene."I froze, unable to believe the words that had just come out of her mouth."W... what?""You heard me," she replied, her voice disturbingly calm. "We'll go to a clinic tom
ElenaIsabella's soft sobs drew me back to reality. I blinked, my head throbbing."—she did it on purpose, Mom! You know she did!"I shifted slightly and turned my head. Two figures stood near the door. Isabella was pacing back and forth, her gown creased and ruined, tears smearing her carefully applied mascara down her flushed cheeks. Mom held her trembling hands."Isabella, calm down, please. Your father already handled it.""Handled it?" Isabella choked out, shoving Mom's hands away. "She fainted right as Aeron was kissing my hand! Everyone stopped looking at me, Mom! The photographers turned their cameras toward her! She ruined my night!""I know, darling, I know," my mother soothed. "Your father is furious. We will deal with her, I promise you. But right now, you need to go to your room and rest. Aeron’s mother called—she was very understanding, but we cannot afford to look unraveled.""I hate her," Isabella spat, her voice trembling with venom. "I hate her so much. Why does she
ElenaI blinked at her words. Fiancé?I didn't know who she was talking about, but as long as Arthur’s name was off the table and no one was trying to drag me into a room with a man who used his fists to talk, I couldn't care less."Congratulations, Isabella," I said softly. "Mom and Dad are obviously thrilled."Isabella didn't even look up from her fingernails, currently being buffed by a maid. "Thanks, Elena. It's a big deal, after all.""Yes, it is," Mom snapped. "Isabella is going to be the most powerful woman in Manhattan. If you really want to congratulate her, the best gift you can give this family is staying completely out of the way. Don't make a scene, don't throw your little tantrums, and for heaven's sake, fix your posture.""Your mother is right," my father added. "The Blackwoods are old money and ruthless. One slip-up, one pathetic rumor from your little outbursts, and this entire deal could hit a bump. Keep your mouth shut and stay in your room if you can't manage a ple
Elena"He is offering five percent of his company," my father snapped, slamming his hand hard on the table. "This is not for discussion. You're marrying him."I stared at him, trying to hold back my tears. "He’s fifty-two, Dad. He’s been divorced three times, and everyone in Manhattan knows why his last wife spent two weeks in a hospital before packing her bags.""Rumors," my mother cut in without looking up from her tablet. She was adjusting the seating chart for next week’s charity gala, her delicate fingers flicking across the glass. "Ex-wives are always bitter, darling. Besides, Arthur comes from old money. His family line is spotless.""Spotless?" I let out a harsh, dry laugh. "He hits women, Mom. He uses his money to buy off the police every time he trashes a club in the Hamptons. You’re trading me to a monster!""Shut up!" My father yelled, standing up. "A monster? You should be thanking God someone of Arthur’s standing is even asking for you! Look at yourself—no talent, no bus







