The rain tapped against the glass windows, soft and relentless, as if the heavens were trying to warn me. The world outside was gray and blurred, headlights smeared into pale streaks across the drenched streets. Inside, the air was heavy with silence. The scent of polished wood and faint cologne lingered, yet it did nothing to calm the storm inside my chest.
Across the table, Adrian sat watching me. The man I had loved for years. The man who had once sworn he would protect me, who had told me that no matter what the world threw our way, we would face it together. My first love. My only love. And yet tonight, his words cut sharper than any knife. “Just this once,” Adrian said. His voice was low, coaxing, the kind of tone he used when he wanted me to bend. His hand slid over mine, his grip firm, almost desperate, as though afraid I might vanish before he finished speaking. His dark eyes gleamed with intensity, and for a foolish heartbeat, I mistook it for love. “It is only temporary. If you do this for me, for us, I will take care of everything. I will get you out in a matter of days.” My heart lurched. I wanted so badly to believe him. I wanted to cling to every trembling word that fell from his lips, to hold on to the picture he was painting of a future where love was enough. But the knot in my chest tightened with every breath. “You want me to… take the fall for her?” My voice came out small, broken. He nodded. “Your cousin was careless. If this scandal touches her, her entire future will be ruined. She does not deserve that.” He leaned closer, his hand lifting to cup my cheek. His touch was gentle, practiced, and my tears betrayed me by spilling over. “But you,” he murmured, “you are stronger than she is. You can survive this. And I promise, I will make it right. I will make it right for you.” Eloise. My cousin. The name tasted bitter on my tongue. She was the one everyone adored, the polished gem of the family. Beautiful, poised, admired. She had always been the sun, radiant and untouchable, while I lingered quietly in her shadow. I was the quieter one, the one who never seemed to shine enough beside her. And now, I was being asked to throw myself into the fire so that her glow could remain untouched. “You want me to confess to a crime I did not commit?” My voice cracked on the words. “Adrian, this could ruin my life.” His eyes softened, and his thumb stroked the back of my hand in that careful, tender way that used to melt my doubts. “You have my word, I will not let it. I love you. You know that. And once this is over, it will just be us. No more secrets, no more obstacles. Trust me, sweetheart.” Trust. Such a fragile, breakable thing. My hand fell to my stomach instinctively, a gesture I had repeated so many times in the last few weeks. I could feel the faint flutter there, a whisper of life that had already changed me forever. He did not know. No one knew. And perhaps that was the only reason I even considered agreeing. For the child growing inside me, I wanted to believe in a future where their father would be a man worth admiring. But what if I was wrong? The pen trembled between my fingers as the papers were slid across the table. The confession form was stark, black letters on white, cold and unforgiving. My name already printed neatly at the top, waiting for my signature at the bottom. The sound of my pulse drowned out the rain, pounding in my ears like war drums. My mind scrambled to escape, and with it came memories. Adrian standing outside my window when we were younger, tossing pebbles against the glass until I laughed and let him in. Adrian whispering that he loved me under the stars on my eighteenth birthday, his hand clutching mine as though he would never let go. Adrian kissing me for the first time, his lips soft, trembling with both hesitation and desire. Those same lips now asked me to give away my freedom, my future, perhaps even my life. I pushed the papers away for a moment, standing abruptly. “I need air,” I muttered, my chest tightening. “Just a moment.” My heels clicked across the polished marble, each step echoing far too loudly. I rounded the corner, desperate to breathe, when the sound of a familiar voice froze me in place. Eloise. I peeked through the narrow gap, and my heart slammed painfully against my ribs. There they were. Eloise and Adrian. Standing close. Far too close. Her hand rested on his sleeve in a way that spoke of intimacy. His gaze lingered on her lips, not with the guilt of a man hiding something, but with the hunger of someone who had already tasted what was forbidden. “You are certain she will do it?” Eloise whispered. Her voice was sharp, cold, slicing through the pounding in my ears. Adrian’s lips curled into a smirk. The same smile that once belonged to me alone. “She loves me enough to throw herself into the fire. Once she is gone, we can finally be together.” The floor seemed to vanish beneath me. My hand flew to my stomach, clutching protectively at the secret that had been betrayed without ever being spoken aloud. My knees trembled, my breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I might collapse right there. So this was their plan. Eloise’s future, Eloise’s reputation, Eloise’s happiness, all secured by the sacrifice of my ruin. And Adrian—my Adrian—was the architect of it all. I stumbled back, every step heavier than the last. My vision blurred with tears I could not stop, but somehow, I forced myself back into the room. The pen still waited on the table, cold and merciless. Adrian looked up at me, his smile smooth, practiced, as if nothing had happened, as if he had not just shattered my world into pieces. “So,” he asked softly, sliding the papers closer once more, “will you do this for me?” My fingers hovered over the pen. My heart screamed to run, to fight, to scream the truth in his face. But my mind whispered of love, of promises, of the child inside me who deserved a father. The rain outside battered harder against the glass, each drop like the ticking of a clock counting down my fate. And still, the decision was mine to make.Adrian’s POV Two days. That was all it took for the world to start whispering her name again. Evelyn Hart. The woman I left behind. The woman who was supposed to disappear quietly. Instead, her face had returned to the news, not with shame, not with her prison record as it should have been, but clinging to Damian Blackwood’s arm like she belonged there. My Evelyn. Carrying my child. I slammed my fist onto the mahogany desk, the sound cracking through the silence of my office. The screen in front of me replayed the footage for the hundredth time — Damian pulling her close, shielding her like she was worth something. My chest burned at the sight. She was supposed to be broken. Ruined. Forgotten. “Adrian…” Eloise’s voice cut in, soft, trembling with a sweetness that grated on my nerves. She stood in the doorway, her silk robe clinging to her frame, hair tumbling perfectly over her shoulder. “You’ve been staring at that screen for hours. Why can’t you just let her go?” “Because
The world had shifted overnight.One photograph. That was all it took. Damian’s arm around me, his protective stance, the faint softness in his eyes — captured, frozen, and plastered on every major news outlet and gossip blog within hours.“Blackwood Heir Claims Pregnant Fiancée.”“Who Is Evelyn Hart?”“From Prison to Penthouse: The Mysterious Woman Damian Blackwood Can’t Let Go.”My name, my face, my swollen stomach — all laid bare. It felt like every stranger on the street knew me, dissected me, judged me. Everywhere I went, I felt eyes. Some curious, some envious, some downright cruel.And Damian? He seemed… unfazed. If anything, the chaos only made him sharper, more determined.That morning, I found him in the study, standing by the window with a glass of scotch in hand — at nine in the morning. His broad shoulders were stiff, his profile carved in cold concentration as he stared out at the skyline.“Damian,” I said softly, stepping inside.He didn’t turn at first. “We don’t have
It had been two days since the confrontation in Damian’s office. Two days of whispers, stares, and the constant buzz of the city reminding me that nothing about my life was ordinary anymore. I had tried to bury myself in mundane tasks—buying tiny clothes, blankets, toys—anything to feel a connection to the child growing inside me. But no amount of soft cotton or pastel colors could mask the storm brewing around me.The boutique was quiet, a small refuge in a city that never slept. I ran my fingers over a soft, cream-colored onesie, imagining the little hands and feet that would soon fill it. The moment brought a pang of hope and fear so sharp it made me wince.And then I heard it.A voice I’d hoped never to hear again.“Evelyn.”I froze. My stomach dropped. Slowly, I turned, half-expecting to see some harmless stranger.But it wasn’t. It was Eloise.The girl I grew up with. The girl I had once called my best friend. The one I had trusted with secrets, with laughter, with everything a
The air in Damian’s office felt heavier than the storm I had left behind in the city streets. Every polished surface, every glint of steel and glass, seemed to radiate power and danger. My chest tightened as I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the tiny life inside me, a fragile heartbeat that had survived betrayal, prison, and now—this.Adrian lunged across the room like a storm finally breaking loose. The polished floors did nothing to soften the sound of his boots; each step rang like a war drum in my ears. My stomach twisted with fear—any sudden movement could hurt the child I had worked so hard to protect.“Let me go!” Adrian’s roar shattered the tense silence, a sound raw with anger, heartbreak, and obsession. Gold-flecked eyes burned into Damian’s, like molten fire threatening to consume everything in its path. I’d loved him once, believed in his promises, given him my entire heart—and now, watching him like this, I barely recognized the man who had sworn to protect me.Two
The car slid to a halt in front of a skyscraper that looked more like a blade than a building. All sharp glass edges, silver reflections, and cold defiance against the sky. Damian stepped out first, and the crowd of cameras outside instantly roared to life, flashes tearing across the night like lightning. For a heartbeat, I thought about bolting. The door handle was still in my grip. If I ran, maybe I could disappear into the chaos. But one look at the swarm waiting beyond—their hungry lenses, their shouts that clawed like talons—told me the truth. Alone, I’d be shredded alive. So I followed him. The second I stepped onto the pavement, his hand brushed my lower back, steering me. It wasn’t gentle. It was possession. Every step I took beside him only tightened the noose. Reporters shouted questions, my name mixing with his in the air like poison. My chest locked, panic threatening to swallow me whole. By the time the lobby doors sealed behind us, my legs were trembling. Marbl
The words hung between us, heavy enough to steal the air from my lungs.Marry me.I blinked at him, certain I had misheard, but his face remained steady, carved in stone. He wasn’t joking.“You’re insane,” I whispered. My voice cracked against the sharp edges of the afternoon air. “You don’t even know me.”“I know enough,” he replied without hesitation. His gaze dropped to my stomach. “You are carrying an heir.”I flinched, clutching the release papers tighter against me as though they could shield me from him. “You don’t need a wife,” I spat. “You just want my child.”He didn’t flinch. If anything, the sharpness of his jaw only grew harder. “You are right. I need an heir. Not a wife. Not a lover. Not a woman to cling to my side. I built an empire from the ground up and now every man with a fortune wants to see it divided when I am gone. They circle me like vultures, waiting for weakness. Waiting for the day they can say Damian Blackwood left no successor.”His name struck me like a s