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The False Labor

مؤلف: Amelia Hart
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-01-12 16:43:03

(Livia’s POV)

I’m thirty-six weeks now, and I swear this baby is ready to evict herself any second. My belly is so big I can’t see my feet anymore. I bump into doorframes constantly. I waddle when I walk. And the Braxton Hicks contractions? They’ve gone from annoying little squeezes to full-on “is-this-it?” moments that make me stop breathing for a second.

It’s 2:14 a.m. on a random Tuesday. The penthouse is dead quiet. I’m in the kitchen because, of course, pregnancy hunger doesn’t care about
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  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   The Next Contract

    (Alexander’s POV)The kitchen smells like fresh coffee, oranges, and the faint sweetness of baby lotion that never quite leaves this house anymore.It’s early, too early for the kids to be awake, but Sandra’s already up, perched on a stool at the island in her unicorn pajamas, swinging her legs and drawing on a napkin with a purple crayon. She’s five and a half now, all sharp curiosity and bossy affection, insisting on “helping” make breakfast every weekend even though her version of helping usually ends in flour clouds and extra chocolate chips.Leo and Caspian are still asleep upstairs, Leo sprawled across his bed like he owns it, Caspian curled in his crib with his favorite stuffed wolf. Livia’s hair is messy from sleep, eyes soft and tired but she’s smiling, small, private, the smile that’s only for me when the house is still quiet.I’m at the stove, flipping pancakes, pretending I’m not watching them all like they might disappear if I blink.This is my life now.Five years ago I

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   Five Years Later – The Penthouse Chaos

    (Livia’s POV)Five years.Five years since the night I stood barefoot on that rooftop and swore forever under stars that once watched me shatter.Five years since Sandra Harper-Kane came into the world screaming like she already knew she was royalty.Five years, and the penthouse is no longer a quiet glass palace.It’s a battlefield of joy.I stand in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, heart so full it aches.The space is loud, messy, gloriously chaotic in the best possible way.Sandra is five years old, all dark curls, storm-gray eyes, and my stubborn mouth is perched on the back of the couch like a pirate queen commanding her fleet. She’s wearing a makeshift crown made of paper and tape, waving a cardboard sword (formerly a paper towel roll) with the authority of someone twice her age.“Leo! The castle needs more towers! Caspian, stop eating the Lego bricks, those are structural!”Leo, three and a half, Alexander’s mini-me with the same intense gaze, mischievous grin, and

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   Theo’s Last Sight

    (Theo’s POV)I’m standing in aisle 7 of the Fresno grocery store, under lights that buzz like dying insects, and the air tastes like stale bread and regret.My sneakers are glued to the linoleum. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t look. Every instinct screams at me to turn around, walk out, keep pretending the world ended somewhere else. But my hand moves anyway, slow, heavy, like it belongs to someone else and pulls the latest Forbes issue from the rack.The cover slams into me like a freight train.Livia.Smirking. Head high. Black blazer open over white silk, hand on her waist, six-weeks-postpartum softness still visible, unhidden, unapologetic. Alexander behind her, hand possessive on her hip, chin on her shoulder, eyes locked on her like she’s the only thing that exists in his entire universe.The headline screams in bold white:“The Most Powerful Couple in America”Livia Kane, CEO of the new Kane-Harper empire, smirking on the cover with her husband’s hand on her six-weeks-postpar

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   The Cover of Forbes

    (Livia’s POV)Six weeks postpartum, and I still wake up feeling like my body belongs to someone else.The incision scar is fading to a thin pink line low on my abdomen, tender when I twist too fast, but no longer screaming.My breasts are heavy now, aching, leaking through every shirt I own, the skin stretched tight and veined in blue like rivers under the surface. They hurt when she latches sometimes, a sharp pinch that makes me hiss, but then the milk lets down and the ache eases into something warm, almost euphoric.I’ve cried in the middle of feeds more than once, quiet tears sliding down my cheeks while she nurses, not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming miracle of it. My body is making food for my daughter. My body is still doing the impossible even after surgery, even after betrayal, even after everything.My emotions are a storm that never quite settles.One minute I’m laughing at Sandra’s sleepy smile, the next I’m crying because the laundry is piling up and I can’t be

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   The Real Wedding

    (Alexander’s POV)The cliff edge is exactly how I pictured it.Sunset bleeding across the Pacific in violent shades of orange and pink, the kind of light that makes everything look like it’s on fire in the best way. Waves crash below us, loud, rhythmic, relentless. The wind is sharp, salty, tugging at my black suit jacket and Livia’s white dress like it wants to be part of this too.Sandra in her little white carrier, strapped to my chest, fast asleep with her tiny fist curled under her chin. Six weeks postpartum, and Livia still looks like she could conquer empires in her sleep. The dress is simple, flowing chiffon that catches the wind, low neckline, no veil, just her hair loose and wild. She’s barefoot again. Always barefoot on important days.She’s standing a few feet away, facing the ocean, arms wrapped around herself against the chill. I walk up behind her slowly.She doesn’t turn. She knows it’s me.I stop just close enough that my chest brushes her back.“Cold?” I ask.She sha

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   The Naming Ceremony

    (Livia’s POV)The rooftop feels different tonight.The same cold concrete under my bare feet, the same wind pulling at my white dress, the same city lights glittering below like a sea of fallen stars. But everything is softer now. Gentler. The sharp edges of the past have worn smooth, and what remains is beautiful quietness.Sandra is in Alexander’s arms.Six days old.Tiny. Warm. Wrapped in the softest white blanket embroidered with the same rose pattern as the nursery mobile. Her dark hair is still soft wisps, catching the faint rooftop light. Her cheeks are flushed pink from sleep, mouth open in that perfect newborn pout. She’s nestled against his chest in the carrier, head tucked under his chin, breathing those little puffs that sync with his heartbeat. Every few minutes she makes a soft sigh, a hiccup, a dream-smile that makes my own heart stutter.I walk beside him, still moving carefully from the C-section, hand resting on his arm for balance. The incision pulls with every step

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   Homecoming in Red

    The Maybach glides to a stop in front of the Pacific Heights penthouse at exactly 11:12 a.m. The building still has my name on the deed. For now.Alexander kills the engine himself. No driver today. He wanted this moment private.He doesn’t open my door. He waits until I do it myself, like he’s tes

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   The Price

    The bar is almost empty. Just low amber lights, a jazz trio packing up, and Alexander Kane at the far corner table like he owns the concept of dawn itself.He’s ditched the jacket. White shirt rolled to the elbows, exposing forearms corded with ink (black lines, Cyrillic letters, one thin white sca

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   Leather and Vengeance

    The Maybach smells like money and something darker. Sandalwood, maybe. Or just predator.I’m shivering in my fourteen-thousand-dollar dress, barefoot, mascara crusty, clutching the broken heel like a weapon. Alexander Kane doesn’t speak until we’re three blocks from the Rosewood and I still haven’t

  • The Kane Contract: Vows of Venom   The Kiss That Ended Everything

    I don’t remember leaving the stage.One second I’m staring at Theo’s mouth on hers, the next I’m shoving through bodies, past trays of champagne, past people calling my name like it still belongs to me.I need a bathroom. Any bathroom. Somewhere I can lock the door and scream without two hundred ph

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