No! No! No!

Olivia's pov 

I marched into the Blackwood Corporate Headquarters, my blood boiling so hot I could barely feel the ground beneath my feet.

"You can't go up there, ma'am!" the front desk guard called out, scrambling after me as I pressed the button for the executive elevators.

"Tell Kelvin Blackwood if he doesn't see me right now, I’m screaming the truth in this lobby until the police arrive!" I shouted back, tears of pure rage stinging my eyes.

The guard frantically spoke into his earpiece, listened for two seconds, and let out a heavy sigh. "Floor 40. He'll see you."

I rode the elevator up, my hands clenched into tight fists. The moment the doors opened on the top floor, I shoved open the heavy oak doors of Kelvin 's corner office.

Kelvin was sitting behind his massive glass desk, casually sipping espresso as if he hadn't just destroyed my life.

"You sick, pathetic bastard!" I yelled, slamming my palms onto his desk. "An AI video? You framed me for cheating to cover up what you and Evelyn did?!"

Kelvin didn't even flinch. He leaned back in his leather chair, a smug, arrogant smirk spreading across his lips. "Keep your voice down, Olivia. My lawyer talked to my father last night. Dad was ready to pull my inheritance if the public found out I ruined our marriage. I had to create a counter-narrative."

"You ruined my life!" My voice cracked, tears finally spilling over. "I got fired today! My career is gone!"

"Oh, stop crying," Kelvin scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. 

"It wasn't personal. It’s just business. My name is worth billions. Yours? Your name isn't worth a dime. I’ll send a hundred grand to your bank account next week to clear your debts. Consider it an exit bonus."

"Keep your blood money," I whispered, stepping back, nausea twisting my stomach. "You make me sick."

I turned on my heel and walked out of his office. Standing near the executive assistant desk was Evelyn, resting a manicured hand over her belly, looking at me with a triumphant sneer.

"Leaving so soon, big sister?" Evelyn chimed in. "I told you that you were nothing."

I stopped right in front of her. I looked at her stomach, then leaned in close, dropping my voice so only she could hear. "Enjoy your moment, Evelyn. But we both know that the baby inside you isn't Kelvin's. Kelvin is infertile. Sooner or later, the truth will come out, and you'll be left with nothing."

Evelyn’s face drained of every drop of color, her sneer freezing in instant terror. I didn't wait for her reply; I walked straight past her toward the master study at the end of the hall where Mr Blackwood kept his office.

I pushed the heavy double doors open. Mr Blackwood stood by the fireplace, holding a glass of scotch.

"Father," I rasped, my throat raw. "Please. Kelvin released a fake video of me. He cheated on me with Evelyn and I demanded a divorce. I have the real proof on my phone right here—"

Mr Blackwood turned around slowly. His icy gray eyes locked onto me, completely stripped of warmth.

"Four years," . Blackwood said, his deep voice echoing coldly off the mahogany walls. "Four whole years you lived under my son's roof and failed to produce an heir. What a waste. Do you really think I care about a fake video?"

"He framed me—"

"We released that AI video to protect the family name, you fool," Mr Blackwood interrupted ruthlessly. He picked up a dark folder from his desk and tossed it in front of me. "You think you're innocent? We only leaked the fake one to seal Ethan's identity."

My heart stopped beating.

With trembling hands, I opened the folder. Inside was a crystal-clear, high-definition photograph of me being pulled into Suite 214 at Majestic Lounge—and standing right beside me, his hand wrapped around my waist, was Ethan.

My breath hitched violently.

I slowly turned my head toward the glass inner office connecting to the study. Standing right behind the clear partition was Ethan. He was staring at me through the glass, his icy eyes burning with intense, murderous disdain.

My entire world shattered. He exposed me. He took the pictures. He gave them to his father to ruin me.

I couldn't breathe. I backed out of the patriarch's office in sheer horror and stumbled into the long, quiet executive hallway.

"Olivia!”

A heavy hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around violently. Ethan stood towering over me in the hallway, his face contorted in absolute rage.

"Ethan..." I choked out, trying to pull away. "You... you did this—"

"Shut up!" Ethan growled, his grip tightening like a vise as he backed me against the hallway wall. "You set me up! You planned this entire disgusting scheme with Kelvin , didn't you?! You came to my suite drunk, threw yourself at me, and had cameras waiting just so you could blackmail me!"

"I didn't!" I sobbed, shaking my head desperately. "I didn't set anyone up! Listen to me—"

"I don't want to hear a single lie from your mouth!" Ethan snapped, leaning in so close I could feel the dangerous heat of his rage. "I warned you last night. I told you I would ruin you if you spoke of this."

"Ethan, I didn't—"

"I am going to fulfill my promise, Olivia," Ethan whispered coldly, his eyes dead and unyielding. "I am going to destroy every single thing you have left. You will never work in this city again."

He let go of me so abruptly I nearly collapsed against the cold marble floor. Without another word, he turned and strode down the hallway, leaving me completely broken and alone in the quiet corridor.

*****

Three weeks passed in a heavy, suffocating blur of pure misery.

I hardly left Maya's tiny guest room. My days were spent staring blankly at the ceiling while Maya tried everything to pull me out of the dark—bringing me warm meals I couldn't touch, trying to drag me out for fresh air, or simply sitting on the edge of the bed in helpless silence. 

Nothing worked. 

The betrayal had cut too deep, and Ethan’s promise to ruin me had materialized with terrifying speed.

Every single design firm I applied to sent back immediate, automated rejections. Kelvin’s smear campaign, backed by the terrifying influence of the Blackwood name, had effectively erased my entire career.

To make the nightmare worse, my phone vibrated constantly on the nightstand with anonymous text messages.

You’re a disgusting, cheating whore.

Stay away from Kelvin and our family or I'll make sure you disappear for good.

You lost everything, Olivia. Die already.

I didn't even need to guess who was sending them. The venomous tone, the cruel satisfaction—it was Evelyn, tormenting me from the high horse I had sacrificed my life to build for her.

By the fourth week, a sharp, uncomfortable discomfort began to settle deep in my lower belly.

At first, I dismissed it as a severe stomach ache. I hadn't been eating properly, living off coffee and scraps, and the endless stress was enough to ruin anyone's digestion. But then came the sudden, violent waves of nausea.

It hit me hard one morning while Maya was frying eggs in the kitchen. The moment the smell of hot oil reached the hallway, my stomach flipped violently upside down. 

I scrambled out of bed, lunged into the small bathroom, and fell to my knees in front of the toilet, dry-heaving until my throat burned.

Maya rushed in, kneeling beside me to pull my hair back. "Olivia! Oh my God, are you okay? Is it food poisoning?"

I couldn't answer. I sat back on the cold tile floor, cold sweat dripping down my neck as a dizzy spell made the room spin wildly. My breasts felt strangely tender, heavy, and aching—a sensation I had never felt before.

My heart did a sudden, terrifying drop straight into my stomach.

No. No, no, no. That's impossible.

Kelvin had called me dry land for four years. His family had drilled it into my head that I was barren, a useless shell. But then Dr. Aris's voice echoed with crystal clarity through the haze in my head: Your womb is perfectly healthy, Olivia. You are one hundred percent fertile.

A memory from that dark, frantic night in Suite 214 suddenly smashed through my mind like shattering glass.

I remembered Ethan’s heavy breath against my ear, his hands gripping my waist in the shadows as he reached for his wallet on the nightstand, muttering something about protection. 

And I remembered my own reckless, drunken voice, desperate to feel anything other than pain, whispering into the dark: Forget about the condom... just focus on me. I'm barren anyway. 

My blood ran completely cold.

"Olivia?" Maya asked, her eyebrows pulling together as she searched my bloodless face. "Tell me he used a condom.” 

"Maya..." My voice trembled so violently I could barely form the word. "Maya, I need you to go to the pharmacy. Right now."

She ran a hand through her hair then left. Ten minutes later, I was locked inside the tiny bathroom alone.

The small plastic stick rested on the edge of the marble sink. My hands were shaking so hard I had to grip the edge of the counter to keep myself upright. The silence in the room was deafening, punctuated only by the heavy, frantic beating of my own heart against my ribs.

It's negative, I tried to convince myself, staring at the ceiling, tears brimming in my eyes. It has to be negative. I can't be. Not now. Not with his baby.

I took a slow, agonizing breath, closed my eyes for three long seconds, and finally forced myself to look down at the small window on the stick.

Two dark, bold pink lines stared right back at me.