Mag-log inJulian Vane stepped out.
He wasn't in a hundred thousand dollar suit surprisingly. He wore a simple black sweater that hugged his broad shoulders and dark jeans. He looked less like a CEO and more like a predator out for a stroll. But as he looked at me standing there in the middle of the parking lot, his expression shifted. For the first time, he looked genuinely surprised. His dark eyebrows pulled together, and he stopped a few feet away from me. "Elena?" His voice was low, vibrating through the quiet. "What are you doing all the way out here?" My fear instantly turned into a sharp, hot anger. I wouldn’t have had to drive miles all the way here if he hadn’t knocked me up. I was with Mark for a decade and I never had a pregnancy scare. One night with him and he was becoming a big threat to my life. "Are you stalking me?" I snapped, stepping toward my car. "Is this what you do? You buy my husband’s company and then follow his wife to a random parking lot against her wishes?". Julian’s eyes narrowed. The surprise vanished, replaced by that cold, calculating look I had seen at the gala. "Stalking you? I have a board meeting in the medical wing of this building in ten minutes. I own this facility, Elena. I don't need to stalk people to find them." I felt the blood drain from my face. He owns this facility. Of course he did. He owned everything. Shit! I didn’t research well enough. "Well, now you've found me. Happy?" I pulled my car keys out, my hands shaking so hard they jingled loudly. "I'm leaving. Stay away from me, Julian. And stay away from my husband." "You didn't seem to want me to stay away a month ago," he said, taking a step closer. The scent of his expensive cologne, sandalwood and something metallic hit me. It was the same scent that had been on my mind for days after the hotel. "That was a mistake," I whispered, not looking at him. "A $5,000 mistake that I've already paid for." "Mistakes usually don't make you end up in private clinics by this time.” Julian remarked. His gaze dropped to the thick white envelope clutched in my hand. "Are you sick? You look pale." "I'm fine. It's just a check-up." I turned to open my car door, desperate to escape, when a voice called out from the clinic entrance. "Sarah! Wait! You forgot this!" I froze. My breath hitched. A young nurse came jogging toward us, holding a smaller, yellow envelope. She was smiling, completely unaware that she was dropping a bomb in the middle of a minefield. "The doctor said you’ll need these vitamins right away," the nurse said, handing the envelope to me. "And remember, no heavy lifting and plenty of rest for the first trimester. We'll see you in two weeks for the next scan!" The silence that followed was heavy. I couldn't breathe. I took the envelope with a numb hand, my fingers brushing the nurse's. "Thank you," I managed to choke out. The nurse nodded to Julian clearly recognizing him as the man who signed her paychecks and scurried back inside. I didn't look at Julian. I couldn't. I stared at the yellow envelope. First trimester. Vitamins. Scan. Julian didn't say a word for a long time. I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and intense. When I finally risked a look at him, his face was like stone, but his eyes were burning. He wasn't stupid. He could put the pieces together and understand what she was trying to say. "Sarah," he said, his voice a dangerous purr. "A fake name. That’s clever." "It's none of your business," I said, my voice cracking. "Vitamins for the first trimester," Julian repeated, stepping so close that his chest was almost touching my arm. He looked down at my stomach, his expression unreadable. "That’s a very specific kind of check-up, Elena." "It’s Mark’s," I blurted out. It was a lie, a desperate, clumsy lie. "We’ve been trying. The open marriage... it was just a talk. We’re happy. We’re starting a family." Julian’s lip curled into a tiny, cruel sneer. He reached out, not to touch me, but to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. His fingers were warm, and I flinched at the contact. "Mark Montgomery doesn't look like a man who's been trying for anything lately except a promotion," Julian whispered. He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "And you don't look like a woman who should be happy carrying her husband's first child. It’s ten years of marriage, after all. Shouldn’t you be more cheery?." "You don’t know what you are talking about! Get away from me," I hissed, finally shoving my way into the driver's seat. He didn't stop me. He stood back, his hands sliding into his pockets. As I started the engine, he tapped on my window. I rolled it down just an inch. "Drive carefully, Elena," Julian said. He gave me a dark, knowing smile that made my skin crawl. "You’re carrying very important cargo. I'd hate for anything to happen to it before we... talk again." I didn't wait for him to say another word. I floored it, the tires screeching as I sped out of the parking lot. * * I didn't go home. I couldn't face Mark. I couldn't sit at that dinner table and listen to him talk about his needs while Julian’s words played on a loop in my head. I drove straight to Chloe’s apartment. Of all the things that I could have listened to Chloe about, I shouldn’t have let her talk me into downloading that stupid app in the first place. When she opened the door, she took one look at my face and pulled me inside. "Elena? What happened? Have you been acting at all? You look like you’ve seen a ghost." I collapsed onto her sofa and burst into tears. I cried until my chest hurt, until the front of my dress was soaked. Chloe just held me, stroking my hair and murmuring that it was okay. “What’s wrong?.” She asked softly. “I’m pregnant.” I blurted out. She raised her eyebrows in confusion about to ask a question before she gasped in realization. “Don’t tell me it’s—.” "He knows, Chloe," I sobbed. "He knows." "Who knows? Mark?" "No. Julian. The man from the hotel." I pulled the ultrasound photo and the vitamins out of my bag and threw them on the coffee table. "I went to a clinic tonight. I thought I was being safe. But he was there. He owns the place." Chloe’s eyes went wide as she looked at the photo. "Oh my god. Elena... it’s real. You are pregnant.” "It’s his," I whispered. "I know it is. The timing... it’s exactly five weeks. And he knows it too. He saw the nurse. He heard her talk about the first trimester." I stood up and started pacing her living room. "I have to run. I have to leave the country. I’ll go to London, or maybe back to Capri. I have some money saved. I can't stay here. Julian is a monster. He’s going to take the baby. Or he’s going to use it to destroy Mark, and then he’ll destroy me." "Sit down," Chloe said firmly. She grabbed my shoulders and forced me back onto the sofa. "You aren't running anywhere. Do you have any idea who Julian Vane is?" "He's a CEO," I said, wiping my eyes. "He's rich. So what?" "He's not just rich, Elena. He's the Julian Vane." Chloe grabbed her laptop from the side table and started typing. "You were so busy being a housewife for the last ten years that you didn't see what was happening in the real world. Look at this." She turned the laptop screen toward me. I stared at the G****e search results. JULIAN VANE: THE CEO OF WALL STREET. VANE INDUSTRIES ACQUIRES THIRD GLOBAL TECH FIRM IN SIX MONTHS. IS JULIAN VANE THE MOST DANGEROUS MAN IN FINANCE? I scrolled through the articles. There were almost no photos of him, just blurry shots of him getting into black SUVs or walking into courthouses. "He’s private," Chloe explained. "He spends millions every year just to keep his face out of the papers. He’s known for being cold, calculated, and completely heartless. They say he once fired an entire board of directors on Christmas Eve because they missed a target by one percent." I looked at a headline that caught my eye: JULIAN VANE : PROJECTED TO TAKE OVER ABOUT TEN MORE FORTUNE 500 COMPANIES "He's powerful," I muttered, my stomach sinking. "He's more than powerful," Chloe said. "He has eyes everywhere. If you try to run, he'll find you before you even reach the airport. He owns the security firms, he literally owns a private jet, he probably owns the airline you’d try to book." I looked at the ultrasound again. The tiny dot. "So what do I do?" I asked, my voice trembling. "I'm trapped. I'm trapped between a husband who hates me and a man who i know nothing about. I can’t give either of them this baby." Chloe looked at me, her expression softening. "You aren't trapped yet. Julian hasn't told Mark. If he wanted to destroy you, he would have done it at the gala by exposing your one night stand. I feel like he’s playing a game, Elena.“ "Well how do I know what game he’s playing?!.” I exclaimed feeling frustrated. "You don’t!," Chloe said, her voice turning sharp. "But the only thing you have to do now is stop acting like a victim. You have Julian Vane’s baby in your belly. That makes you the most powerful person in his world, whether he likes it or not." I looked at the screen again, at the captions on the media about Julian. "He doesn't have a heart, Chloe," I whispered. "He told me tonight that I was cargo. I’m not sure he wants me, maybe he just likes the thrill of being with a married woman. If at all, he probably wants what I’m carrying." "Then let him want it," Chloe said. "But don't you dare run. Because if you run, you lose everything. If you stay... you might just have a chance to take everything he has."ELENA’s POV The morning air felt heavy, like it was pressing down on my chest. I woke up with that familiar, sharp feeling in my stomach. I barely made it to the bathroom, clutching my stomach as the world tilted sideways. I leaned over the sink, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. I rinsed my mouth and looked at myself in the mirror. My face looked thinner than usual. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to keep doing this.Probably till my belly bump shows. I stumbled back into the bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. I crawled back under the heavy blankets, hoping to disappear, but the bed shifted. Mark was already awake. He turned toward me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm. "Elena?" he asked, his voice sounding deeper and more alert than usual. "You were in the bathroom for a long time. You’ve been sick every morning this week. Are you okay?"I froze. I didn't want him to look at me, and I certainly didn't want him to think about why I was sick. I forced a sm
ELENA’s POV The sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway was the loudest thing I had ever heard. I stood by the large window in the living room, my fingers pulling back the heavy curtain just enough to see out. A sleek black sedan, darker than a moonless night, came to a stop in front of the steps. This wasn't a company car from Vane Holdings. It had to be a car provided by whoever was working with Mark now. The door opened, and Mark stepped out. I caught my breath. He looked different. He was thinner, his expensive suit hanging slightly loose on his frame. His face was pale and tired, with dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights in Singapore. But it was his eyes that truly frightened me. They weren't the eyes of the man I had married. They were filled with a sharp, dangerous energy, the kind of look someone had when they were ready to bite after being pushed into a corner. I dropped the curtain and moved to the center of the room. My heart was a frant
When I pulled the car into the driveway of the estate, my heart stopped. A large moving truck was backed up to the front door of the guest house. Men in grey uniforms were carrying boxes and furniture out of the building. My mind raced. He’s leaving. Julian is actually leaving.I felt a rush of relief so strong it made me dizzy. If Julian was gone, I only had to face Mark. And Mark, for all his faults, was a man I knew how to handle. Julian was a mystery that terrified me.I saw Julian’s personal assistant, Simon, standing by the truck with a clipboard. He was checking off items as they were loaded. I ran up to him, my breath coming in short gasps.“Simon! What is this?" I asked, gesturing to the truck. "Is Mr. Vane moving out?"Simon looked at me with a blank, professional face. "Yes, Mrs. Montgomery. Mr. Vane felt it was time to return to his penthouse in the city. He didn't want his presence here to cause any confusion once your husband returns."“So he's really going? He's taki
The glass walls of the Vane Holdings headquarters overlooked the entire city, but Julian Vane wasn't looking at the view. He was staring at a digital map of the Pacific Ocean on his desk monitor. A small glowing dot was moving steadily toward the coastline. His head of security, Marcus, stood stiffly in front of the desk. He looked uneasy. "Sir, the Visser Group’s private jet has cleared international airspace. Mark Montgomery is on board. He’s not coming back quietly. Our sources in Singapore say Visser gave him a legal team and a specialized encrypted phone. They are targeting our main servers." Julian leaned back in his leather chair. He didn't look worried. He looked bored. He picked up a crystal glass of water and took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Visser is predictable," Julian said, his voice cold and smooth. "He must be happy with the knowledge that he found a weapon in Mark. He thinks he can use a broken man to steal my encryption keys. It’s almost sad
The air in the private club in Singapore was heavy with the smell of expensive cigars. Mark Montgomery sat in a deep leather chair, his hands shaking as he held a glass of water. Across from him sat Mr. Chen and a tall, older man with grey hair and a sharp suit. His name was Mr. Visser.Mr. Visser tapped a thick folder on the table between them."You look terrible, Mister Mark," Mr. Visser said. His voice was smooth. "I hear your cards stopped working at the club an hour ago. That must have been a shock."Mark swallowed hard. "I’m sure it was just a technical issue.”Visser paused as he let out a chuckle. “You must be either stupid or just a very funny money.” He said as he continued laughing as his lackeys joined in.Mark pulled a fake smile too confused by what was going on.“Your hotel suddenly kicking you out is a technical issue too?.” Mark kept silent. He actually didn’t have an answer for that. Earlier, he had gotten a message from his hotel citing his stay has been cancelle
ELENA’s POV The three days following the spa incident were a blur of fake smiles that I was getting tired of. To Eleanor, I acted like the perfect wife who was waiting idly for her husband to come back home. I dressed how she liked, I sat with her in the garden and listened to stories about Mark’s childhood. I even nodded when she said Mark was the most hardworking man in the city.But every time I went to the bathroom or the kitchen, I was texting Julian. I sent him everything. I gave him the account numbers for Mark’s private savings. I told him the passwords to our shared laptop. I even told him about the offshore account Mark’s father had left him. I was handing Julian the keys to Mark’s destruction, one text at a time.I wasn't doing it just for revenge. Chloe had met me in secret near the park yesterday."It’s open," Chloe had whispered, handing me a small, plain white envelope. "A private bank account. No connection to your name, no connection to the Vane estate. I’ve alrea
ELENA’s POV I thought he was taking me home. I was ready to lock myself in the guest room and never come out. But he didn't head back toward the suburbs. He drove toward the luxury shopping district.He pulled up in front of a store called L'Aube. It was a high end maternal boutique. The windows
ELENA’s POV I swiped the screen with a trembling finger.Mark’s face appeared. He was wearing a headset, sitting in what looked like a glass-walled office in Singapore. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright with greed."Elena! Hey, babe! You wouldn't believe this place," Mark shouted. The
ELENA’s POV I gasped. "You wouldn't do that. You are not that harsh, Julian.” "I am, actually. I would do anything to keep you safe," Julian said. "Even if I have to protect you from yourself."He stood up and looked toward the stairs. The movers were coming down now, carrying Mark’s favorite lea
ELENA’s POVThe sound of the front door slamming at 5:00 AM was the most beautiful thing I had heard in ten years. I stood by the window, watching the tail lights of Mark’s car disappear down the driveway. He was gone. For two weeks, I wouldn't have to smell his stale scotch. I wouldn't have to h







