INICIAR SESIÓNMy body hit the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs with a hard, dull sound. A sharp pain shot through my ankle, and my head spun.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had just happened.
"Roosevelt!"
I heard heavy footsteps running down the hallway. Zyran appeared above me, his face was pale. For a moment, I saw panic in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" He knelt beside me, his hands hovering over my arms. "What happened? Did you slip?"
I gritted my teeth against the pain and looked up past him. Mina was standing at the top of the stairs. She had one hand over her mouth, and her eyes were wide with fake shock.
"She pushed me," I gasped. I grabbed Zyran’s sleeve. "Zyran, she pushed me."
Zyran frowned. He looked up at Mina, then back at me. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance.
"Roosevelt, don't be ridiculous," he said in a low, stern voice. "Mina can barely stand, how could she push you?"
"I'm telling you the truth!" I cried, trying to sit up. A wave of nausea hit me, and I remembered the baby. My hand flew to my stomach. "She looked me in the eye and pushed me."
"I didn't!" Mina wailed from the top of the stairs. She started to cry, her shoulders shaking. "I tried to catch her! She tripped on her dress. Oh my god, Zyran, I think she hates me!"
Zyran let go of my arm and stood up abruptly. He didn’t help me off the floor. Instead, he looked at me with disappointment.
"Look what you have done," Zyran said coldly. "You have upset her."
"I upset her?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Zyran, I'm the one on the floor. I'm the one who is hurt!"
"You are strong, Roosevelt. You always have been," he said, dismissing my pain with a wave of his hand. "Mina just lost her home in a fire. She is traumatized. And now you are accusing her of violence? That is beneath you."
He walked past me, actually leaving me sitting on the floor. He went up a few steps and reached out a hand to Mina.
"Come down, Mina. It’s okay," he said softly. His voice was gentle the same way he used to speak to me. "She didn't mean it, she is just tired."
Mina slowly walked down the stairs, pretending to be terrified. She took Zyran’s hand and hid behind his arm, peeking at me.
As Zyran turned his head to check the front door lock, Mina looked at me. She wasn’t crying anymore. Instead, she gave me that same dark, satisfied smirk she wore before she pushed me.
She had won. She knew exactly how to play him.
"Zyran," I said, forcing myself to stand up. My ankle throbbed, but I pushed through the pain. "My ankle is swollen and I don't feel well. I need to go to the hospital."
I had to check on the baby. I had to know if the fall had hurt my child.
Zyran looked at his watch and sighed. "It’s late, Roosevelt. It’s probably just a sprain. We have ice packs in the freezer."
"But—"
"Mina is shaking," Zyran interrupted me, his voice firm. "I need to get her settled in the guest room to make sure she doesn't go into shock. Can you please just put some ice on your ankle and stop making a scene? We will discuss your clumsiness in the morning."
My mouth dropped open. "My clumsiness? Zyran, I am your wife!"
"Then act like one," he snapped. "Be gracious. Be kind to our guest."
He put his arm around Mina’s waist to support her. "Let’s go, Mina, you need to rest."
I watched them walk away from me. I watched my husband choose to comfort a woman who had just tried to hurt me, while I stood there in pain on our anniversary night.
A tear slid down my cheek, but I wiped it away angrily. I wouldn't cry, not in front of her.
I limped toward the kitchen to get the ice pack, feeling more alone than I ever had in my life. But as I reached the kitchen door, a sharp cramp ripped through my lower stomach. This pain was different. It felt deep and terrifying.
I grabbed the doorframe, gasping for air.
"Zyran!" I called, my voice filled with sudden fear.
"I said enough, Roosevelt!" he shouted back from the living room, not even looking.
The cramp came again, harder this time. I looked down at my white dress.
There, blooming on the silk fabric like a terrible red flower, was a small spot of blood.
The pain in my stomach was sharp, like a knot being pulled tight. I slumped against the kitchen doorframe, clutching my belly.
"Zyran..." I whispered. The room was spinning.
I heard footsteps, Zyran ran into the kitchen. He didn’t look angry anymore. When he saw me on the floor, his face went pale. His eyes were wide with pure terror.
"Roosevelt!"
He dropped to his knees, sliding across the tiles to get to me. He gathered me into his arms, his hands shaking as he touched my face.
"Roosevelt, look at me! What is it? Where does it hurt?" His voice was frantic. He wasn’t the cold billionaire anymore, he was just my husband, terrified.
"My stomach," I gasped, grabbing his shirt. "It hurts... so much."
I felt warm liquid between my legs. I was bleeding.
"No, no, no," I sobbed, burying my face in his chest. "Please, not this."
Zyran didn’t ask questions, he scooped me up into his arms effortlessly, holding me tight against his chest.
"I’ve got you," he whispered fiercely into my hair. "Stay with me."
He ran toward the front door. As we passed the living room, I saw Mina standing there, surprised to see Zyran carrying me.
"Zyran?" she called out. "Where are you going?"
"Get in the car, Mina!" Zyran shouted without stopping. "We are going to the hospital. Now!"
Everything after that was a blur of lights. The last thing I felt was Zyran’s hand gripping mine so hard it almost hurt, and his voice whispering, "Don't leave me, Roosevelt. Please don't leave me."
Beep... Beep... Beep...
I woke up to the smell of lemons and medicine. The room was quiet.
I blinked my eyes open, I was in a hospital bed. My hand felt warm. I looked down and saw Zyran. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his head resting near my hip. He was asleep, but he still held my hand tightly with both of his.
I moved slightly, and he woke up instantly. He sat up, his hair messy and his eyes red, showing that he hadn’t slept at all.
"You’re awake," he breathed out. The relief in his voice hit me hard. He reached out and stroked my cheek with his thumb. "You scared me to death, Roosevelt. I thought something terrible had happened."
"Zyran," I croaked. My throat felt dry. "The doctor... what did he say?"
Before Zyran could answer, the door opened. A doctor with gray hair walked in, holding a clipboard.
"Ah, Mrs. King. Good to see you awake," the doctor said kindly.
Zyran stood up. "Doctor, she is in pain. Is it her appendix? Is it the fall?"
The doctor looked at Zyran, then at me. He seemed to sense the tension. He walked to the other side of the bed, away from Zyran, and lowered his voice slightly.
"Mr. King, could you give us a moment? I need to check her vitals," the doctor said smoothly.
Zyran hesitated. He didn’t want to leave. "I want to know what is wrong with my wife."
"I will update you in a minute," the doctor insisted.
Reluctantly, Zyran squeezed my hand one last time. "I’ll be right outside the door," he promised. He walked out, casting a worried look back at me before closing the door.
As soon as he was gone, the doctor leaned in close.
"Mrs. King, you are very lucky," he whispered. "You had a threatened miscarriage, the bleeding was caused by the trauma of the fall and high stress."
My hands flew to my mouth. "But... is the baby...?"
"The baby is still holding on," the doctor smiled gently. "The heartbeat is strong but you are in a danger zone. You cannot have any stress, no shocks, or heavy lifting. If you bleed again, we might not be able to save the pregnancy."
I let out a sob of relief. "Thank you. Oh, thank you."
"Does your husband know?" the doctor asked.
I shook my head quickly. "No and please, don’t tell him yet. There is a lot happening at home. I need to tell him when the time is right. When things are calm."
The doctor nodded. "Very well. Patient confidentiality, but you must rest."
The doctor left the room. A few seconds later, Zyran came back in. He looked more relaxed now that the doctor was gone.
"He said you just need rest," Zyran said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "He said you are exhausted and the fall shook you up."
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. His lips were warm. "I am so sorry, Roosevelt. I should have listened to you about the stairs. I was just overwhelmed with everything happening with Mina."
"Speaking of Mina," I whispered, pulling back slightly. "Where is she?"
Zyran sighed. "She is in the waiting room, she refused to leave."
"Zyran, who is she really?" I asked. "You said she was an old friend, but..."
Zyran looked down at his hands. "We were friends in college. Best friends, then she met a guy. They were together for three years. I didn’t hear from her that whole time. I thought she was happy."
He looked up at me, his eyes full of pity. "She called me tonight for the first time in years. She was screaming, her apartment was on fire. She said she had no one else."
"But why you?" I asked. "Why not the police?"
"Because of her ex-boyfriend," Zyran said darkly. "She left him a year ago, but..."
Suddenly, the door to my room banged open.
Mina rushed in. She was back in her dirty white dress, she looked frantic, holding a cell phone in her shaking hand.
"Zyran!" she cried out.
Zyran stood up immediately. "Mina? What is it?"
Mina ran to him and grabbed his arm, her nails digging into his shirt. She looked at me, then back at Zyran. Her eyes were wide with panic.
"He found me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My ex... he knows I’m here."
Zyran frowned. "How? The fire..."
"He sent me a message," Mina choked out. She held up the phone so Zyran could see the screen. "He said he saw you carry a woman out of the house. He thinks... he thinks I am your wife."
Zyran went still. "What?"
Mina looked at me, a twisted fear on her face.
"He thinks Roosevelt is me," Mina whispered. "And he says he is coming to the hospital to finish what he started in the fire."
My body ached. The excitement of being back at work had faded, replaced by a dull throb in my ankle and the exhaustion of hiding a pregnancy. I unlocked the heavy front door of the Safe House, expecting silence and a cold, empty hallway. Instead, laughter filled the air. "Oh, look at you! You are still as beautiful as a doll, Mina!" "Stop it, Clara! You are making me blush." My hand froze on the doorknob. That was Zyran’s sister, Clara. The other voice, the deep, commanding one belonged to his mother, Beatrice. I took a deep breath. Just be polite, I told myself, be the good wife. I walked into the living room. The sight before me made my stomach drop. Mina sat in the center of the plush velvet sofa, wrapped in a cashmere blanket I recognized, it was a gift Zyran had given his mother last Christmas. Beatrice held Mina’s hand on one side while Clara was on the other, brushing a stray lock of hair from Mina’s face. Zyran stood by the fireplace, watching them with a soft, reliev
The sun was shining through the heavy curtains of the guest bedroom, but I felt like I was under a dark cloud. I stared at my phone screen, the message from the unknown number was still there. The picture of Zyran and Mina looking so happy together mocked me. “I’ll enjoy him later.” "Stop looking at it," a voice said sharply. I looked up. Nixie walked into the room carrying a tray with toast, fruit, and a glass of milk. She looked angry, but her eyes softened when she met my gaze. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?" she asked, setting the tray down on the bed. "I couldn't," I admitted, sitting up slowly. My body felt heavy. My ankle was stiff, wrapped in a bandage, and my stomach felt tender. "Nixie, that text message... do you think they are...?" "Sleeping together?" Nixie finished for me. She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Honestly, Rose? I don't know. Men can be clueless. But Zyran isn't the type to cheat. He's too concerned about his reputation and his 'principles.'
"He thinks I'm you?," I asked, my voice shaking. The room suddenly felt cold. I looked at the door, half-expecting someone to burst in. Zyran's expression turned serious. He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number. "Security," he said sharply. "Code Red, I need four men at my wife’s door right now and check the parking lot." He hung up and turned to Mina. She was shivering, wrapping her arms around herself. "Mina, sit down," Zyran said gently. "He won't touch her and he won't touch you." "I'm so sorry, Zyran," Mina cried. "I didn't mean to create this trouble for your family. I should just leave. I should let him find me." "Don't be foolish," Zyran said, but he squeezed her shoulder. "You are not going anywhere. You are family." I stared at him, confused. "Family?" Zyran looked at me, his eyes serious. "Roosevelt, I didn’t have time to explain earlier. Mina isn’t just a college friend, we grew up on the same street. She has known me since I was five." He glanced at Min
My body hit the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs with a hard, dull sound. A sharp pain shot through my ankle, and my head spun. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had just happened. "Roosevelt!" I heard heavy footsteps running down the hallway. Zyran appeared above me, his face was pale. For a moment, I saw panic in his eyes. "Are you okay?" He knelt beside me, his hands hovering over my arms. "What happened? Did you slip?" I gritted my teeth against the pain and looked up past him. Mina was standing at the top of the stairs. She had one hand over her mouth, and her eyes were wide with fake shock. "She pushed me," I gasped. I grabbed Zyran’s sleeve. "Zyran, she pushed me." Zyran frowned. He looked up at Mina, then back at me. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance. "Roosevelt, don't be ridiculous," he said in a low, stern voice. "Mina can barely stand, how could she push you?" "I'm telling you
ROOSEVELT'S POVThe rich smell of rosemary and sizzling butter filled the dining room, but I couldn't bring myself to take a bite. My focus was entirely on the man sitting across from me, Zyran.The soft light from the chandelier reflected off his raven-black hair, perfectly styled even after a long day at work. He had taken off his suit jacket, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, veined forearms that flexed slightly as he cut into his steak. He looked like a masterpiece crafted by a god, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that typically formed a firm line.He was breathtaking, he was powerful and he was mine.Today was our fourth wedding anniversary. Usually, Zyran would have his assistant send a gift, a diamond necklace or a designer bag, and we would go about our separate lives. But this year, I had asked for something different. I wanted time. Just a cozy dinner at home, cooked by me.Despite his busy schedule running an empire







