Chapter 9

Ava

I stayed in the bathroom longer than I should have, crouched on the cold floor, staring at the tiles like they had the answers. My body still felt strange—my stomach tight, my breasts aching, my head spinning. And the thought kept circling back, no matter how hard I tried to shove it away.

Pregnant.

I whispered it once under my breath, and the sound of it nearly broke me. No. I shook my head, digging my fingers into my damp hair. I couldn’t let myself believe that. If I did, then everything—everything I was trying to hold together—would fall apart.

But the way my body felt… the nausea, the heaviness, the soreness… it all lined up too well.

A hot wave of panic rushed through me. I couldn’t just sit here and wonder. I had to know.

I pushed to my feet, tied the towel tighter around me, and cracked open the door. The bedroom was empty. Relief flooded me, and I rushed across the room, pulling on a shirt and the first pair of jeans I could find. My hands shook as I slipped into my sandals.

By the time I made it downstairs, Mrs. Keller, the maid, was tidying up the hallway. She paused when she saw me fumbling with my phone. “Ma’am? Where are you going? It’s late.”

I forced a smile that felt thin and brittle. “I’m fine. Really. I just… need to pick something up down the road.”

She frowned, clearly unconvinced, but I didn’t wait for her reply. My heart skipped when I caught sight of Roman in the sitting room. He was lounging on the sofa, phone in hand, the glow lighting his sharp features.

Damn it.

I slowed, trying to quiet my steps, every muscle tense as I angled toward the door. If he looked up, if he asked one question, I’d be trapped. He’d never let me leave without knowing where I was going.

But his eyes stayed on the screen, his attention elsewhere. I held my breath, slipped past the edge of the room, and pulled the door open as quietly as I could.

The night air hit my face, cool and sharp. I hurried down the steps, called a cab on my phone, and didn’t let myself breathe until I was inside, the city lights blurring past the window.

Destination: the nearest pharmacy.

The pharmacy bell chimed when I pushed the door open. The place smelled faintly of disinfectant and mint, the shelves stacked neatly with everything from cough syrup to baby formula. My palms were sweating, and I wiped them against my jeans as I approached the counter.

A woman in a white coat looked up, adjusting her glasses. “Good evening. How can I help you?”

My throat tightened. I lowered my voice. “Um… I need a test. A pregnancy test.”

Her brows rose slightly, but she nodded like it was nothing unusual. “How many?”

“Three,” I blurted out, my voice trembling. “Just to be sure.”

She slid the boxes from behind the counter, setting them down with quiet efficiency. I handed over some cash, avoiding her eyes, but she offered me a soft smile anyway. “Good luck,” she said gently, as though she understood far more than I wanted her to.

I tucked the tests into a paper bag, my pulse still racing as I hurried out, flagged another cab, and pressed myself against the seat. The ride back felt longer, heavier, every passing light on the street throwing shadows of my own fear across the window.

By the time I crept into the house, the silence told me Roman was already upstairs. My chest tightened as I pushed the bedroom door open. He was stretched across the bed, asleep, the rise and fall of his chest steady and calm.

I tiptoed across the room, clutching the paper bag like it was contraband, and shoved the tests deep into one of my boxes. Out of sight. Out of mind—for now.

I sank onto the edge of the mattress, trying to steady my breathing. That’s when his voice cut through the darkness.

“Ava.”

I froze, my heart leaping. He wasn’t asleep after all. His eyes glinted faintly in the dim light as he shifted onto his side.

“Where did you go?” His tone wasn’t sharp, but it carried weight. “You should at least tell me if you’re leaving the house this late.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He sat up a little, his gaze fixed on me. “Do you even know what time it is? You walked out at one in the morning. It’s dangerous. If anything had happened to you…” He sighed, shaking his head. “The media would have a field day. You know the scandal around our marriage. People are watching.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers twisting in my lap. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You’re right. I should’ve told you. Next time… I’ll let you know.”

The silence stretched for a moment before he finally leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Good.”

I nodded, staring down at my hands, my heart still hammering. The paper bag hidden in my box seemed to burn like a secret I couldn’t contain much longer.

I couldn’t sleep. My heart thudded against my ribs like it was trying to break free. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the little paper bag hidden in my box. I turned one way, then the other, the sheets twisting around me. Roman’s breathing had gone steady and deep beside me, proof that he was far from waking.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed. My feet barely touched the floor as I tiptoed across the room, clutching my chest like it would muffle the pounding inside. I grabbed the bag, hurried into the bathroom, and shut the door with a soft click.

My hands shook as I tore open the first test. The plastic felt too light in my palms, too fragile to hold the weight of the answer I didn’t want. I followed the instructions, then waited, pacing the small bathroom in circles. My stomach churned with every second that ticked by.

When the result appeared, my knees almost gave out. Positive.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head so hard my hair stuck to my damp cheeks. “No, this can’t be right.”

I slid down against the wall, my body trembling. Tears stung my eyes, spilling before I could stop them. I buried my face in my hands, sobbing quietly, my shoulders shaking.

This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be pregnant.

Not after what Julian did. But then, another memory crashed through me: the night with Roman before the marriage. If the timing was twisted enough, it could be his.

My sobs grew harsher, clawing out of me as I curled into myself on the cold tile.

And then the contract. The one-year deal that bound Roman and me together like a cage. A child was never part of that. It wasn’t supposed to be. It couldn’t be.

I forced myself to my feet, swiping at my tears. “Maybe the test is wrong,” I whispered hoarsely, fumbling for another box. “It has to be wrong.”

But the second test blinked the same result at me. Positive.

I slammed the stick onto the sink, sobbing harder. My hands gripped the counter as if it could hold me together. My whole body shook—rage, grief, fear—everything tangled into one.

If I was pregnant, it meant everything was ruined. And worse—it meant I was carrying either Julian’s child… or Roman’s.

And I couldn’t bear the thought of either.

I crumpled against the sink, my cries muffled by the towel I pressed to my mouth. What was I supposed to do now? Keep the baby? Or end it before either of them ever knew?

The questions tore me apart, and I had no answers.