LOGINDominic did not sleep.
He stood in his study long after Emma locked herself in the guest bedroom upstairs. The house was silent, but the silence was wrong. Too heavy. Too distant. For four years, this house had responded to her. Her perfume in the hallways. Her voice instructing staff. Her quiet laugh drifting from the balcony at night. Now it felt like foreign territory. And he hated it. His jaw tightened as he replayed the hotel scene again. The tears. The way she stepped back from his touch. The refusal in her voice when she said no. Emma had never told him no. Not like that. Not without softening afterward. Tonight she hadn’t softened. She had withdrawn. And that was unacceptable. *** Upstairs, Emma sat on the edge of the bed in the dimly lit guest room. Not their bedroom. She couldn’t step inside it. Not after picturing Laura’s hands on him. Her stomach churned again. The nausea hadn’t stopped. She pressed her palm against her abdomen slowly. Late. She counted backward in her head. Her breath trembled. No. It couldn’t be. But deep down she knew. She hadn’t felt it before … faint exhaustion, dizziness, that strange heaviness low in her body. And the timing… Tears slid down her face silently. Of all the moments. Of all the nights. Of all the betrayals. This one came with consequences. A child. His child. The door opened without knocking. She stiffened. Dominic stepped inside. He had changed out of his suit. Dark shirt. Sleeves rolled up. Hair still slightly disheveled. He looked unfairly calm. Controlled. Powerful. Like the man who had built an empire from nothing. Not the man who had just destroyed his wife. “You locked the door again ,” he said quietly. “You broke it …. Again .” His eyes flicked toward the handle. Then back to her. “If I need to enter a room in my house, I will.” There it was. Control. Ownership. Emma wiped her tears quickly and stood. “I don’t want to fight.” “Good,” he said. “Neither do I.” She stared at him in disbelief. “You were in bed with my best friend.” His jaw tightened. “It’s not what you think.” “Then tell me what it is.” Silence. His gaze hardened. “It’s complicated.” The same word. She felt something inside her snap. “Stop saying that.” Her voice rose for the first time. “Stop talking to me like I’m stupid.” Dominic stepped closer. Slow. Measured. Every step calculated. “You’re emotional,” he said low. “And when you’re emotional, you misinterpret.” Misinterpret. Her chest burned. “I saw you,” she whispered. He stopped only inches away now. Close enough that she could smell his cologne. Close enough that her body remembered him. Hated that it remembered him. His hand lifted instinctively, brushing a tear from her cheek. The touch was gentle. Intimate. Familiar. Her body reacted before her mind did. She froze. His eyes darkened at the response. “Look at me,” he murmured. She didn’t want to. But she did. And what she saw unsettled her. Not guilt. Not remorse. Possession. “You’re my wife,” he said quietly. Firmly. “Nothing changes that.” Her breath hitched. “You don’t get to decide that.” “Yes,” he said. “I do.” The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be. Dominic had never been loud. He dominated quietly. Through presence. Through power. Through inevitability. “I want a divorce,” she said suddenly. The air changed. His expression didn’t explode. It froze. Completely still. “No,” he replied. No hesitation. No shock. Just refusal. “You don’t get to refuse,” she said, heart pounding. He stepped even closer. Now her back nearly touched the wall. “You think I built everything I have because I let people walk away from me?” She swallowed. “This isn’t business.” His fingers wrapped gently around her wrist. Not hurting. Just firm enough to remind her how strong he was. “It is to me.” Her pulse raced. “Let me go.” His grip tightened slightly. Not painful. But deliberate. “You don’t get to leave me because you’re upset.” “I’m leaving you because you have been cheating on me ... Don’t know for how long..,” she breathed. “I’m done with you.” That word hit him. She saw it. A flicker of something dangerous behind his eyes. He released her abruptly and stepped back. “You’re not thinking clearly.” “I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” Her stomach twisted sharply again. Harder this time. She inhaled sharply. Dominic noticed. Immediately. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “Emma.” His voice shifted. Not softer. Sharper. More alert. She turned away from him instinctively. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her back. “What is wrong with you?” “Don’t you touch me!” “Don’t…” She shoved him harder than she intended. And suddenly… The room spun. Her vision blurred. Darkness edged her sight. Dominic caught her before she hit the floor. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. Her body trembled. “Emma.” His voice changed completely now. Not controlling. Not cold. Concerned. Real. She clutched his shirt instinctively as nausea surged again. “I feel sick,” she whispered. His eyes narrowed. “How long?” She froze. He saw it. The hesitation. The calculation. His gaze dropped slowly to her abdomen. Then back to her face. And something shifted. “Are you pregnant?” The question landed like a gunshot. Silence filled the room. Her heart pounded violently. She didn’t answer. That was answer enough. Dominic went very still. His hand moved …slowly ….almost unconsciously …….to rest against her stomach. The gesture was possessive. Claiming. Terrifying. “You’re carrying my child.” Not a question. A statement. Her throat tightened. “Yes, Maybe . I don’t know .” The word barely escaped. For a moment, neither of them moved. Dominic’s expression was unreadable. But something fierce ignited in his eyes. Mine. That’s what it said. Mine. His jaw hardened. “You’re not going anywhere.” The words sent ice through her veins. “This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered. “If anything, it changes everything.” “Yes,” he said quietly. “It does.” He stepped back slightly, running a hand through his hair. His mind was already moving. Strategizing. Calculating. A child meant legacy. Heir. Continuity. Power. And Emma was the mother. “You think divorce is happening now?” he said low. “It’s not.” “You can’t force me to stay.” His gaze returned to her. Cold. Focused. “You’d be surprised what I can do.” Fear crept up her spine. Not because he was yelling. But because he wasn’t. Dominic didn’t threaten without capability. “I won’t let you raise my child away from me,” he continued. “I won’t let you take what belongs to me.” “I’m not your property!” “You’re my wife.” The words were final. Dominant. Terrifyingly calm. Tears filled her eyes again. “I hate you.” The room went silent. He stepped closer once more. But this time his hand didn’t grab her. It cupped her jaw gently. Forcing her to look at him. “You don’t,” he said quietly. The certainty in his voice shook her. “Even now, your body reacts to me.” Her breath caught. Damn him. Damn him for noticing. “You think this ends because you saw something?” he murmured. “You think I’ll let another man touch you?” Her pulse spiked. “I don’t belong to you.” His thumb brushed slowly across her lower lip. Possessive. Measured. “You always have.” The tension between them felt electric. Twisted. Dangerous. She pulled away sharply. “This is over.” He stared at her for a long moment. Then his expression changed. Colder. Harder. Strategic. “If you want war,” he said quietly, “be prepared to lose.” And with that… He walked out of the room. Leaving her shaking. Breathing hard. Terrified. Pregnant. And suddenly aware of something far worse than betrayal. Dominic Sterling was not going to let her go peacefully. And if she wanted freedom… She would have to destroy himThe abandoned building stood at the end of a narrow road, surrounded by overgrown grass and broken concrete. Steve Carter’s car stopped behind the police vehicle already parked near the entrance. Dan Reeves got out first. Steve followed. Neither man spoke. Their attention went immediately to the black cab parked several yards ahead. The driver’s door was open. The engine was off. Steve’s expression tightened. “Where’s the driver?” One of the officers approached. “We haven’t found him.” Steve looked at him. “You haven’t found him?” “No, sir. When we arrived, the cab was empty.” Steve glanced toward the building. “Has anyone gone inside?” “Not yet. We secured the outside first.” “Good.” Steve looked at Dan. “Let’s see the cab.” They walked toward it. Steve stopped beside the open driver’s door and looked inside. Nothing immediately appeared out of place. The meter was still running. A few coins sat beside the gearshift. The driver’s phone wasn’t there. Steve
4:20 p.m. The interviews began almost immediately. Steve Carter and Dan Reeves worked through the people who had been closest to Emma that afternoon. Maya went in first. Stephanie followed. Adrian came after her. While Stephanie was inside, Adrian sat beside Maya in the hallway, one arm around her shoulders. Maya hadn’t stopped worrying since she got the news. Adrian said nothing. There wasn’t much he could say. A few feet away, Alexander Whitmore sat alone. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands loosely clasped. He hadn’t moved much since arriving. His mind kept returning to the same question. How had everything changed so quickly? Just a few hours ago, Emma had been going about her day as usual. She had been planning lunch. She had chosen the restaurant. She had shared the location. And now no one knew where she was. Alexander looked toward the interview room when the door opened. Steve stepped out. “Mr. Whitmore?” Alexander stood i
The elevator doors opened. Stephanie stepped out first. Adrian followed. Neither of them had to ask whether something was wrong. They could feel it. The usual rhythm of Blackwood Industries had disappeared. People stood in small groups instead of sitting at their desks. Conversations stopped whenever someone from the executive floor walked past. Phones were in everyone’s hands, but very few people were actually working. Then Adrian saw Maya. She was sitting near reception, her phone clutched tightly between both hands. Her eyes were red. Adrian stopped. He had known Maya for months. He had seen her angry, sarcastic, irritated, amused. He had never seen her cry. “Maya.” She looked up. The moment she saw him, whatever control she had left seemed to disappear. Adrian crossed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug. Maya held onto him. “What happened?” he asked quietly. She tried to answer. Nothing came out. Stephanie stepped closer. “Any information?”
3:20 p.m. The door opened. “Sir, I need to—” Maya stopped. The rest of the sentence disappeared. She looked around Rowan’s office. Something was wrong. Rowan stood behind his desk, his expression hard and unreadable. Brian was beside him, a case file open in his hands. Alexander stood near the monitor, his attention fixed on the security footage. No one spoke. Maya’s eyes moved from one face to another. “What happened?” Rowan looked at her. “Maya…” There was something in his voice that made her stomach tighten. “What?” Rowan held her gaze. “Emma is missing.” Maya stared at him. “What?” “She left Blackwood earlier,” Brian said. “We haven’t been able to locate her since.” Maya shook her head. “But I saw her leave.” Alexander turned immediately. “You saw Emma leave?” “Yes.” “When?” “Just before one.” “Did you speak to her?” “Yes.” Maya reached for her phone. “And I texted her afterwards.” Alexander stepped closer. “When?” Maya
3:00 p.m. Alexander Whitmore walked into Blackwood Industries with his sleeves rolled to his forearms and his jacket still in the car. He had come straight from lunch. He hadn’t gone back to the office. Hadn’t changed. Hadn’t stopped to think about what he was doing. He had simply left the moment he realized Emma hadn’t arrived where she was supposed to be. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what. That was the part he couldn’t shake. Emma Laurent didn’t disappear. She didn’t leave without telling someone. And she never ignored his calls. The receptionist directed him upstairs. Alexander thanked her and headed for Rowan Blackwood’s office. The door was open. He stopped when he saw Rowan inside. Another man stood near the desk. Alexander didn’t recognize him. Rowan’s expression changed the moment he saw Alexander. “Alexander.” Alexander barely paused. “Any news?” Rowan shook his head. “Nothing yet.” He gestured toward the man beside him.
Emma returned to her office at Blackwood after finishing the paperwork Jennifer had asked her to complete. She placed the signed documents on her desk and glanced at the clock. 12:20 p.m. She was running a little later than she had planned. Emma picked up her phone and opened her conversation with Alexander. She sent him the restaurant’s location. Emma: Mr. Whitmore, this is the restaurant. I’ll be there by one. His reply came almost immediately. Alexander: Okay, perfect. Emma: See you there. She slipped her phone into her bag, picked up the folders she had been carrying, and stepped out of her office. She had barely reached the end of the corridor when Maya called after her. “Emma.” Emma turned. “Where are you going without even meeting me?” Emma stopped. “I didn’t know where you were.” “I was in my office.” “So was I.” “Exactly. You could’ve come looking.” Emma laughed. “What’s the hurry?” “I have lunch with Mr. Whitmore’s team. He’s throw
The silence outside the bedroom door did not feel like absence. It felt like pressure. Emma Laurent stood in the center of the room, staring at the locked door as if she could see through it…see him. Dominic Sterling did not shout. He did not pound on the wood like a jealous husband. He did not
The Laurent estate had always felt larger at night. Not grander. Just heavier. The chandeliers cast gold across polished marble floors, across portraits of men who had built empires and lost them, across women who had smiled through wars no one ever wrote about. Emma stood at the entrance be
Morning in the Sterling mansion did not arrive with sunlight. It arrived with silence. Emma woke to stillness so complete it felt curated. The curtains were half drawn, the light filtered into something pale and artificial. The air smelled faintly of Dominic Sterling’s cologne….dark, expensive,
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and fear. Emma hated it. She went alone. She doesn’t have the energy to deal with him. The white walls. The hushed footsteps. The way nurses spoke softly, as if grief might be contagious. She sat on the edge of the examination bed, hands folded in her







