3

“Sera... oh my God.”

The moment Chloe saw her, she rushed across the room and wrapped her arms around her. “I've been trying to reach you all morning. The news is everywhere.” She pulled back, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and anger. “Arthur really did it? That bastard actually humiliated you in front of everyone?”

“Please,” Seraphine's voice cracked. She looked completely exhausted. Hollow. “Not right now, Chloe.” Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse. “I need you to check something.”

Concern immediately replaced the anger on Chloe's face. “What is it?”

Seraphine swallowed hard, her voice barely audible. “My period is over two weeks late.”

The room went dead silent. Without asking another question, Chloe guided her toward the examination table. “Lie down.”

Seraphine obeyed. For the first time since yesterday, she felt genuinely afraid. Not of Arthur. Not of the media or the company. It was something else entirely. Something she couldn't even name.

Chloe squeezed a small amount of cold gel onto her stomach before moving the ultrasound probe across her skin. The machine hummed softly. Both women stared at the monitor.

Seconds passed. Then, a rapid, frantic rhythm filled the room.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

Chloe froze. The probe stopped moving. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the screen. “No way...”

“What?”

Chloe moved the probe again. Then again. It was as if she couldn't trust her own eyes.

“Chloe?” Seraphine's pulse quickened.

Her friend slowly looked up, her expression unreadable. “You're pregnant.”

The words hit like a freight train, knocking the air straight out of Seraphine's lungs. But Chloe wasn't finished.

“And...” Chloe let out a breathy laugh. Not because anything was funny, but because she was in complete disbelief. “Oh my God, Sera.”

“What?”

“It's triplets.”

Seraphine stared at her, her mind going blank. “What?”

Chloe turned the monitor toward her, her own eyes filling with tears. “Look.” She pointed at the screen. “One.” Then another. “Two.” And another. “Three.”

Three tiny dark circles. Three separate lives.

“Three gestational sacs,” Chloe whispered. “Sera... you're carrying triplets.”

For a long moment, Seraphine couldn't hear anything. The room blurred. The monitor blurred. Even Chloe's voice seemed to come from miles away.

Three babies. Arthur's babies. The children of the man who had brutally destroyed her life less than twenty-four hours ago.

The tears she thought were gone began falling again, hot and fast. Three babies inside her. Her breathing became uneven, her fingers clenching the paper bedsheet until it ripped. Pain, humiliation, anger, and absolute terror crashed together all at once. And suddenly, a terrible, dark thought slipped into her mind.

“Chloe.” Her voice sounded cold. Empty. “Get rid of them.”

Chloe blinked, stepping back. “What?”

“I don't want them.” The words came out harsher this time. “Give me whatever medicine I need to end this.”

“Sera…”

“I don't want to carry his children!” Seraphine suddenly shouted, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. “He ruined everything!” Her voice broke into a ragged sob. “He humiliated me in front of the whole world. He stole my family's company. And now I'm supposed to spend nine months carrying his children?” She shook violently, her chest heaving. “I can't do it. I can't. I want them gone.”

“Sera!” Chloe immediately grabbed her shoulders, anchoring her. “Look at me.”

Seraphine couldn't stop crying, her body wracked with deep, painful sobs.

“Arthur is a monster,” Chloe said, her own tears beginning to fall. “Yes. He's a liar. Yes. He used you. Yes. But these babies didn't.”

The room fell silent again. Only the ultrasound machine continued its steady, rapid rhythm.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

Thump-thump-thump.

Three tiny heartbeats. Fast. Fragile. Alive. The sound seemed to echo through every single corner of the room, piercing through Seraphine's rage.

Slowly, her body stopped shaking. The anger inside her began to give way to something else. Something softer. Something painfully raw. She looked back at the monitor.

Three tiny lives. Completely innocent. They hadn't chosen their father. They hadn't chosen any of this nightmare. Arthur was the guilty one. Arthur was the cruel one. He was the one who had betrayed her. Not them. Never them.

A shaky breath escaped her lips. Slowly, almost instinctively, she placed a trembling hand over her stomach. It was still perfectly flat. There was nothing to see yet. And somehow... she already felt fiercely protective.

“No,” she whispered, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “No one is touching you.” Her fingers tightened slightly against her abdomen. “I'll protect you.”

The words came out quietly, but the raw determination in her voice was absolute. She lifted her head and looked at Chloe. “Print the ultrasound. And lock every medical record away.”

“Sera…”

“No one can know, Chloe.” She held her friend's gaze, her expression hardening into stone. “No one. Especially not Arthur.”

*

*

The Anderson mansion felt strangely empty when she returned home. The silence in the grand hallways seemed heavier than usual. She removed her sunglasses near the entrance, took a slow, centering breath, and headed upstairs.

When she entered her father's bedroom, Mark immediately looked up. His eyes softened the moment he saw her, and then his face completely crumpled.

“Sera...” his voice broke, the guilt in his eyes almost unbearable. “You've been crying again. Forgive me, Nak. Forgive me.” Tears filled his eyes. “This useless old man just keeps hurting you.”

Seraphine forced a gentle smile and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. The ultrasound photo remained hidden safely inside her purse. She wasn't ready to tell him. Not yet. He was carrying enough weight to crush him already.

“I'm okay, Dad.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. “Really.”

Mark looked entirely unconvinced. “How can you possibly be okay after what happened? That man destroyed your future, Sera. And it's all because of my past mistakes.”

Seraphine inhaled slowly, calming the storm in her chest. Then, she met his eyes. “Dad. What if we just let it go?”

Mark blinked, confused. “What?”

“What if we stop fighting him?”

“Sera, those assets belong to our family,” he argued, panic flitting across his pale face. “Everything I built... it was all meant for you.”

“I know,” she squeezed his hand, her voice quiet but unwavering. “But what's the point of keeping a company if it costs me you?”

Mark fell silent, staring at her.

“Think of it as a repayment,” she continued softly.

His eyes widened. “Sera…”

“The land,” she swallowed hard, keeping her gaze steady. “The Ashwood Ridge property. Think of everything Arthur took as payment for what happened back then. Once he has it, the debt is settled. We don't owe him anything anymore.”

Silence filled the room, heavy and thick. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Seraphine broke it.

“Let's leave New York, Dad.”

Mark looked up sharply. “What?”

“Let's go somewhere else,” her eyes filled with a sudden, fierce determination. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere nobody knows our names. Somewhere the media can't find us.” And somewhere Arthur Ashford never could.

“Leave everything behind?” Mark asked softly, his lips trembling. “All of it?”

“Yes,” she leaned her head against his fragile shoulder. For the first time in days, her voice sounded peaceful. “Success doesn't mean anything if we're miserable. Let's start over. Just you and me. Please.”

Mark stared ahead, tears slipping silently down his wrinkled face. He knew exactly what his daughter was doing. She was giving up her entire inheritance, her status, and her world. For him.

Finally, he nodded. “All right,” his voice cracked under the weight of his gratitude. “We'll go. We'll start over.” He wrapped a weak, shaking arm around her shoulders. “Just the two of us.”

Seraphine smiled sadly against his shoulder, closing her eyes tight. Her hand drifted slowly down toward her stomach, pressing against the fabric of her shirt.

Not two of us, Dad, she thought in the quiet safety of her mind. Five.

*

*

“Sir, so far Mark Anderson has made absolutely no move to reclaim the assets that have fallen into your hands.”

“I thought you came to report Seraphine Anderson’s death. My revenge will be complete with her death. That woman should no longer have the face to show herself in public.”