Chapter 3

Teresa’s POV

Two nights had passed since Suzanne caught me with those documents, and the incomplete name burned in my mind like a brand I couldn't shake off.

"Tim—"

Just three letters. Three damn letters that haunted every waking moment.

I lay in the oversized bed, staring at the ceiling with my hands on my swollen belly. I was already eight months pregnant.

The babies inside me were restless, as if they could feel my anxiety. I had tried everything to fall asleep. Warm milk. Deep breathing. Counting backwards from a hundred. But nothing worked.

Because somewhere in this villa was the truth. And I needed to know it.

The clock on the nightstand read 2:47 PM. Suzanne would be taking her afternoon nap right about now. She was religious about it, claiming it helped her stay alert for the rest of the day. So I had maybe an hour, maybe less.

My heart hammered against my chest as I sat up in bed, the silence of the villa making every sound seem louder. The floor creaked under my weight as I slowly made my way towards the door, my hand gripping the wall for balance.

The study was three doors down from my room. I knew because I had counted them obsessively over the past two months. Suzanne kept files there, documents related to the villa and probably more.

Thankfully the door was unlocked, so I slipped inside and closed it behind me with a soft click. The room smelled like old paper and furniture polish. A large desk dominated the space, filing cabinets lined one wall, and afternoon sunlight filtered through heavy curtains.

My hands were shaking as I moved to the desk first and pulled open drawers. Inside, I found bills, grocery lists, and medication schedules for my pregnancy, but nothing of use.

Then I remembered the filing cabinet.

Suzanne had pulled those property documents from the bottom drawer two days ago. I knelt down, ignoring the protest in my lower back, and opened it.

There were so many files.

I flipped through them quickly. Property deeds. Purchase agreements. Maintenance records. And then, buried under a stack of property documents, I found a corporate filing.

The letterhead was professional and expensive looking. And at the top, in bold black letters was ‘Timothy Chase, CEO. Chase Medical Technologies’

I blinked in surprise and read it again.

“No. It couldn't be.”

But the name stared back at me, undeniable and permanent.

Gregory Chase. Thomas's father was Gregory Chase.

I remembered that I had been at his father's estate. Some family dinner I wasn't important enough to attend. Thomas came back late, drunk, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his hand.

"My father had a bastard," he had said, his voice thick with bitterness. "From his first marriage. Gave him away like garbage."

I had been folding laundry. I remembered because I had stopped mid-fold, a shirt hanging limp in my hands.

"Why would he do that?"

Thomas had laughed coldly. "To protect him from my mother. She would have killed the boy if he stayed."

Thomas had a half-brother who had been given away for adoption. Stripped of his legitimacy. Hidden from a family that would have destroyed him.

The room tilted as I realized that I was carrying the babies of my ex-fiancé's half-brother.

The same blood. The same family. The same twisted, poisonous lineage that had already shattered my life once.

Did Timothy know who I was? Did he know I was Thomas's ex-fiancée?

Was I chosen because of it? Was this some kind of revenge? Some sick game between half-brothers I didn't understand?

The accident. Thomas leaving me. The hospital bills draining every cent I had.

And then this offer. Anonymous. High-paying. Perfectly timed.

Suddenly I felt a sudden pain, like something inside me had snapped.

I gasped, doubling over. My hand flew to my belly as it hardened under my palm, tight as stone.

“No. Not now.”

I was two weeks early so the babies weren't supposed to come yet. But for some weird reason my body didn't negotiate.

The contraction slammed into me and I cried out, the sound coming from somewhere deep, raw and desperate.

At that moment, the document slipped from my hands and fluttered to the floor.

I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. All I could feel was pain.

"Teresa!"

The door flew open.

Suzanne stood there, face drained of colour. Her eyes darted from me to the open filing cabinet to the papers scattered across the floor.

"What did you do?"

I couldn't answer. Another wave of agony crashed over me and I gripped the desk like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

"Suzanne." My voice cracked. "The babies. They are coming."

She stared at me for one frozen moment. Then something shifted in her face and she quickly yanked her phone from her pocket and dialed.

"We need the car. Now. Jane Doe is in labour. I don't care that she's early. Get the car ready. Now."

She hung up and grabbed my arm, steadying me. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, though I wasn't sure. Every muscle in my body was seizing, contracting, trying to expel three lives whether I was ready or not.

Suzanne half-carried, half-dragged me towards the door.

"Why did you go in there?" Her voice was low, tight with something I couldn't name. "You were told not to snoop."

"I needed to know." I gasped between contractions, sweat pouring down my face.

"Know what?"

"Who he is."

Suzanne went silent. Her grip on my arm tightened but she didn't say a word.

We made it to the front entrance just as the car screeched to a stop. The driver jumped out, eyes wide.

"Hospital," Suzanne barked. "Now."

They helped me into the back seat and I collapsed against the leather, my clothes soaked through.

Suzanne climbed in beside me, face pale and drawn. "Breathe, Teresa. Just breathe."

But I couldn't.

My mind was spinning. Pain and shock tangled together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Timothy Chase.

The man whose children I carried was tied to the man who destroyed me. And I had no idea why.

What would he do when he found out I knew? What would happen when he realized his secret was out?

"We are almost there," Suzanne said softly.

I opened my eyes, staring out the window.

"Timothy Chase." The name left my lips in a whisper.

Suzanne's head whipped towards me. "What did you say?"

I turned to face her, my voice hoarse and broken. "You knew who I was, didn't you?"