Chapter 3

The next morning, Marco was already there when I arrived. Somehow, he always was. A thermos of tea in one hand, a paper bag of breakfast in the other, as if he knew exactly what I needed before I did.

“Good morning,” he said, voice soft. “I brought your favorites.”

I forced a smile, keeping my eyes on the floor. “Thanks… Marco. Really.”

He stepped closer, carefully, like I might shatter if he moved too fast. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay,” he said quietly. “I can see it, Katya.”

I hugged myself tighter, wishing I could disappear into my office chair. “You shouldn’t care. I’m… complicated.”

“You’re not complicated. You’re… scared,” he said. “And you don’t have to face it alone. I’ll be here. Always.”

Part of me wanted to cry. Part of me wanted to push him away. I did both at the same time.

Then I felt it — a glance, a presence behind the glass wall that made my pulse stutter.

Ethan.

He was there, leaning casually against the edge of the boardroom window. Not moving, not speaking. Just watching. And somehow, he saw everything. The way I flinched when Marco touched my hand. The way I pressed my stomach instinctively. The way I avoided his eyes.

My chest tightened. I tried to focus on Marco’s words, on the warmth in his eyes, on the safety he offered. But Ethan’s stare pierced through, and I could feel it like a warning: he knew something was wrong. He could sense it.

Marco’s voice broke through my panic. “Katya… look at me.”

I met his eyes. The worry there, the love, the patience — it made my chest ache.

“I… I can’t,” I whispered.

Marco nodded slowly, understanding, but not afraid. “Even if your baby is not mine i will take care of you.” he said firmly. “ I’m still here. No matter what.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder and let him carry some of this burden. But Ethan Dawson’s gaze was relentless, and I felt exposed, fragile, like a mouse caught between two predators.

By midday, I was shaking from the tension. My stomach churned. I tried to focus on my work, but every glance at the glass wall, every subtle movement from Ethan, set my heart racing.

Then it happened.

He stood, walking slowly toward the elevator. And something about the way he moved — confident, controlled, magnetic — made me freeze. My pulse doubled. Marco noticed my sudden tension, his hand hovering near mine.

Ethan paused just before the doors closed, glancing at me. His eyes flicked to my hand over my stomach — and I could feel it.

He knew.

Not the whole truth, not yet. But enough to make my stomach twist into knots.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to run to Marco and bury myself in him. I wanted to pretend nothing had changed. But nothing could hide from Ethan Dawson’s attention.

The doors slid shut. He was gone for now. But the threat lingered.

Marco squeezed my hand gently. “Hey… it’s okay. We’ll get through this. Together.”

I nodded, though the truth clawed at me: together wouldn’t be enough if Ethan ever uncovered the secret.

And deep down, I realized something terrifying: part of me didn’t just fear him. Part of me wanted him too.

Marco had no idea.

He thought I was just stressed. Overworked. Exhausted. Nothing more. He didn’t know about the tiny life growing inside me was Ethan's. the secret that had turned my world upside down. And I wasn’t ready for him to know. Not yet.

Yet here he was, hovering like a shadow I couldn’t push away. Pouring me tea, asking if I’d eaten, resting a hand on my arm when he thought I wasn’t looking. Every gesture was gentle, reassuring… and it made me want to cry.

“I brought you lunch,” he said softly. “You need to eat something, Katya.”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, though my hands shook as I picked at the salad.

“You’re not,” he said quietly, lowering himself into the chair across from me. His eyes searched mine, warm and patient. “Talk to me. Please.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. I wanted to tell him, to scream the truth into his kind, concerned face. But I couldn’t. Not his fault. Not his problem. He didn’t deserve this mess.

“I… I just have a lot on my mind,” I muttered. “Work, deadlines, everything.”

He reached out, brushing my hand. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone.”

Across the glass wall, I caught the corner of Ethan’s reflection in the office lights. He was standing just outside the conference room, arms crossed, watching. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

My stomach knotted. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched. And I could feel it the way he saw everything. The way he noticed the subtle signs, the slight changes in my posture, the small gestures I tried to hide from everyone else.

Marco squeezed my hand gently. “Hey… breathe. You’re okay.”

I wanted to believe him. I did. But Ethan’s presence lingered in the room like a storm I couldn’t outrun.

Because if he ever found out…

He wouldn’t just take my attention. He wouldn’t just demand answers.

He would take everything.

I pressed my forehead to my desk, whispering to myself, “No one can know. Not ethan. Not him.”

Marco didn’t press further. He just stayed, steady and patient, unaware of the secret that made my life feel like it was teetering on a knife’s edge.

And Ethan? He lingered outside my field of vision, silent, like a predator testing his prey.

Caught between two men. Marco didn’t know the truth, and one who could destroy me with a single discovery I felt smaller than I’d ever felt in my life.

And terrifyingly, I couldn’t stop the thought from surfacing: part of me didn’t just fear Ethan Dawson. Part of me… wanted him.