Chapter Twenty-Three

Alicia Pov

The call came at 6:12 a.m.

I was already awake.

I always was when things started moving without my permission.

I answered on the second ring. “You’re late.”

“I needed confirmation,” the man said. His voice was low, cautious. “I have it now.”

I sat up slowly, silk sheets pooling around my waist. “Talk.”

“Dante left the country three weeks ago. Private flight. Bangkok.”

My grip tightened on the phone.

“Continue.”

“He was admitted under a false name. Specialized cardiac surgery. High risk.”

I closed my eyes.

Surgery.

So that was it.

“That’s not all,” he added.

Of course it wasn’t.

“He didn’t go alone. His security team cleared the route. No public record. The decision was rushed.”

I inhaled sharply. “Why rush?”

There was a pause.

“Because someone convinced him he didn’t have time.”

My stomach turned cold.

“Who.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“The woman. Elara.”

The name tasted bitter.

“She pushed for it,” the man continued. “She found the hospital. She insisted. The doctors confirmed without surgery, he wouldn’t last.”

I said nothing.

My chest felt too tight for air.

“He survived,” the man finished. “Successful procedure. Recovery ongoing. He’s already returned.”

I ended the call without another word.

For a long moment, I just sat there.

Then I laughed.

Softly.

Of course.

Of course it was her.

She didn’t just carry his child. She carried his decisions now. His fear. His future.

She had done what I should have done.

And I hated her for it.

I dressed quickly, movements sharp, controlled. Cream dress. Structured coat. No jewelry except my engagement ring.

The ring that suddenly felt very light.

I didn’t go to Dante.

Not yet.

I went to her.

Elara was in the garden when I found her.

Morning light brushed her skin gently, like the world had already chosen sides. She stood near the roses, one hand resting unconsciously on her stomach.

Protected.

I approached without announcing myself.

“Elara.”

She turned, startled.

“Alicia,” she said. “Good morning.”

Polite.

Too calm.

“You didn’t tell me,” I said.

Her brows pulled together. “Tell you what?”

I stepped closer. “About Thailand.”

Her face was drained of color.

So.

She knew exactly what I meant.

“I didn’t think it was my place,” she said carefully.

I smiled.

“That’s interesting,” I replied. “Because you found the hospital. You pushed him to go. You watched him nearly die and decided you knew best.”

Her lips parted. “I was trying to save him.”

“You were trying to secure your position,” I snapped.

She took a step back.

“You think I don’t know?” I continued. “You think I don’t see how you’ve placed yourself between us?”

“There is no us,” she said quietly.

That hurt more than shouting.

“You carry his child,” I said. “You whisper in his ear. You walk through this house like it belongs to you.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“But you took it,” I said coldly.

Her hand moved protectively over her stomach.

I laughed again.

“There it is,” I said. “The shield.”

“Please,” she said. “I don’t want trouble.”

“Too late.”

I stepped closer.

She stepped back again, heel catching on stone.

“Elara,” I said softly. “Do you know what you did?”

“I saved his life.”

“No,” I corrected. “You changed it.”

Her breath shook.

“You made him choose you,” I said. “And men like Dante don’t forgive that lightly.”

“I didn’t force him,” she whispered.

“You didn’t have to.”

I reached out, fingers closing around her wrist.

She gasped.

“Alicia”

“Let go,” I said sharply. “You don’t get to play innocent now.”

She tried to pull away.

The movement was sudden.

Too sudden.

Her foot slipped.

For one terrifying second, she tipped backward.

My grip tightened instinctively, jerking her forward again.

She stumbled into me, breath ragged, eyes wide.

We froze.

I released her like she burned.

She staggered back, one hand clutching her stomach, the other braced against the stone bench.

Silence crashed between us.

Her face had gone pale.

“You almost fell,” she whispered.

I stared at her.

At her stomach.

At what I had almost done.

“I didn’t push you,” I said automatically.

“I know,” she said. But fear still trembled in her voice.

For the first time, something twisted in my chest.

Not guilt.

Something worse.

Awareness.

“This ends now,” I said quietly. “You stay out of my place.”

“I don’t want your place,” she said.

“Then remember it,” I replied. “Because next time, I won’t stop myself.”

I turned away.

And that was when I felt it.

Eyes.

Watching.

I stopped.

Slowly, I looked toward the far end of the garden.

A shadow shifted behind the columns.

Someone was there.

Not staff.

Not security.

Someone who had seen.

My pulse spiked.

I straightened my coat and walked away without looking back.

Behind me, Elara sank onto the bench, shaking.

Ahead of me, the house waited.

And inside it

Dante.

I smiled tightly.

He would hear this story.

Just not the way she planned.

And whoever had been watching?

They would decide which version lived.