Two Pink Lines

Chapter 3

One month later.

I sat on the edge of the cold porcelain bathtub, staring at the small white plastic stick resting on the counter.

My hands were clamped over my mouth, suppressing a sob that threatened to tear my chest wide open. My vision blurred with hot tears, but the two bright pink lines didn't change.

Pregnant.

I am pregnant.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in the back of my throat. How had this happened? I knew exactly how it happened. It happened four weeks ago, the night I uploaded Victor's virus into Thorne Industries' mainframe.

Julian had come to my apartment that night. He had stood in the pouring rain, looking more broken than I had ever seen him, and told me about his father's abuse. He had shown me his scars. In a moment of weakness, fueled by guilt, adrenaline, and a desperate, undeniable love I refused to admit, I let him in.

I let him into my home, into my bed, into my soul.

And an hour later, while he slept in my sheets, I pressed ENTER on the keyboard, unleashing the malware that wiped billions from his company's accounts.

I fled that night. I changed my name, moved to a tiny motel on the edge of the city, and waited for the news of his ruin.

But now... I looked down at my flat stomach, trembling. I was carrying the child of the man I had just destroyed.

Suddenly, the cheap television in the motel bedroom blared, catching my attention. I stood up on shaky legs and walked to the doorway.

The morning news anchor looked grim.

"Breaking news this morning. Thorne Industries CEO Julian Thorne has survived an apparent assassination attempt. Authorities report a car bomb was detonated outside his estate. Sources say Thorne is in critical condition..."

"No," I gasped, the air rushing out of my lungs. "No, no, no..."

Victor promised nobody would get hurt. He promised it was just about the money.

If Julian died... my baby wouldn't have a father. And I would be a murderer.

I scrambled for my phone, my fingers fumbling as I dialed Victor's number. It rang twice before he picked up.

"Did you see?" Victor's voice was slick with sick amusement. "Clean up is almost done, Elara. You did good."

"You promised no violence!" I screamed, tears spilling down my cheeks. "You said you just wanted his company!"

"Things change, sweetheart. Julian Thorne was a loose end. Oh, and by the way..." Victor’s voice dropped, turning deadly. "So are you. Did you really think I’d leave the one person who can tie me to the hack alive?"

Before I could process his words, there was a deafening CRASH.

The front door of my motel room was kicked off its hinges, splintering into the room.

I screamed, dropping the phone, grabbing the nearest object a heavy lamp and backing myself into the corner.

Two men in black suits walked in, guns drawn. But they parted ways, stepping aside.

A third man stepped through the shattered doorway.

He had a bandage wrapped around his forehead, blood seeping through the white gauze. His left arm was in a sling, and his bespoke suit was covered in dust and ash.

But his slate-gray eyes burned with the fury of a thousand suns.

Julian Thorne wasn't dead. He was standing in my cheap motel room, looking at me with a hatred so pure it made my knees buckle.

He glanced at the dropped phone. He glanced at my terrified face. And then, his eyes drifted past me, landing perfectly on the bathroom counter behind me.

Landing right on the pregnancy test.

Julian’s breath hitched. Time stopped.

He slowly looked back up to my face, the absolute betrayal warring with the shocking revelation.

"You're going to tell me exactly who you are, Elara," Julian whispered, pulling a gun from his waistband and cocking it. "And then, you're going to tell me if that child is mine."