LOGINBy the time we reached the bedroom, I had stopped smiling. Not because I wasn’t happy—I was. But something had been bothering me since we left the kitchen. I walked toward the closet and opened it. Lucian was watching me. “What are you doing?” “I need clothes.” He frowned. “You have clothes.” I pulled out one of the dresses I had left behind last year. “This is one of the clothes I left here before the divorce.” I held it up. “It doesn’t really fit the way I want it to anymore.” Lucian leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been wearing these?” I shrugged. “Some of them.” His expression changed. “You didn’t tell me.” “I didn’t think it was important.” I walked toward the closet again. “My work clothes are still at my apartment. I have a lot of suits, dresses, shoes… everything I actually wear to work.” Lucian nodded. “Then I’ll have to send someone to get them.” I turned toward him. “No.” I said quickly. He frowned. “Why?” “Because I need to go back to
Neither Camilla nor I noticed when the kitchen door opened. We were still standing there, wrapped in each other’s arms, both of us crying like we’d just survived the world’s saddest movie. Until I heard a familiar voice— “Should I be concerned?” I froze. Camilla froze too. We pulled apart very slowly. Lucian stood in the doorway. His tie was slightly loosened, and his suit jacket was hanging open. His facial expression was somewhere between confused and amused. His dark eyes moved from Camilla to me, then back to Camilla. “Why are you both crying?” Neither of us answered. His brows pulled together. “Claire?” I wiped my cheeks. “Nothing.” “Nothing?” Camilla sniffed. Lucian stared at us. Then his eyes dropped to my stomach, and understanding slowly crossed his face. “Oh.” His mouth curved into a smile. “You already told her.” I nodded. Camilla laughed through her tears. “I couldn’t help it.” Lucian shook his head. “You’re both so dramatic
By the time I got home that evening, the mansion felt different. Maybe it was because I felt different. Walking through those doors without wondering whether I still belonged here, was something I had to get used to. I was carrying a secret that had already begun changing everything. Our baby. I didn’t have to look too far for Camilla. I found her in the kitchen, standing by the counter, arranging dinner ingredients. When she heard me walk in, she turned immediately. “There you are,” she said. Her eyes moved over me. “You’re home later than usual.” “I know.” I smiled. “I got caught up at work.” Camilla nodded, returning to what she was doing. “How was your day?” She asked. I leaned against the counter. “Long,” I groaned. “Did you eat?” I laughed softly. “You sound like Lucian.” “Someone has to make sure you two survive.” I smiled in appreciation, then looked at her. That’s when I remembered there was something I needed to tell her—something I had
The boardroom was already full when I arrived. Directors, directors executives, senior shareholders. People who had been making decisions in my absence. People who had quickly begun discussing what Dhark Holdings would look like without me while I was incapacitated. The conversations stopped the moment I walked through the doors. Every head turned. I didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, I walked toward the head of the table and took my seat. A few seconds passed, and no one spoke. I looked around the room. It was almost amusing. These were the same men who had been so confident while I was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Now they couldn’t even look me in the eye. I placed my hands on the table and spoke into the microphone. “I assume everyone here knows why we’re meeting.” Silence. “Good.” I leaned back. “I’ve been informed of what happened while I was away.” A few people shifted in their seats. I noticed—I always noticed. “I won’t waste this meet
The city moved past the tinted windows of my car that morning, but I barely noticed it. My thoughts were still at home—with Claire and the tiny life growing inside her. Our child. I still couldn’t quite believe it. Every time I thought about it, something unfamiliar settled in my chest. Joy. Pure, overwhelming joy. Claire was going to be a mother. And I was going to be a father. I found myself smiling. A ridiculous smile, one I don’t think I had worn in years. I imagined a nursery. I further imagined Claire standing in the middle of it, complaining that I had bought too many things—I already knew I would. I imagined tiny clothes hanging in a closet. I wanted to build the crib myself. I imagined small hands, tiny feet… Maybe a daughter. The thought made my smile deepen. Then I remembered the ultrasound image Claire had shown me. The tiny shape in the picture. My child—our child. An ugly memory resurfaced—Eva. The fake pregnancy. The fake ultrasound
To my surprise, Nathaniel showed up at my office later that afternoon. “What are you doing here?” I asked as I looked up from my computer, and a grin took over my face. He held up a small paper bag. “I come bearing gifts.” I stared at it. “What kind?” “Food.” I smiled. “You’re bringing me food?” “I assume you’re going to need it now.” I froze—then a smile formed very slowly. His eyebrows rose. “How did you know?” I asked. He stared at me. I laughed, instinctively placing one hand on my stomach. “I haven’t told you yet.” I watched Nathaniel’s green eyes go wide. “You’re pregnant?” I nodded. His face broke into the biggest smile. “Oh my God, Claire.” He walked toward me. “Claire!” He hugged me very tightly. I laughed. “Careful!” Nathaniel immediately loosened his arms. “Sorry.” Then he looked at me suspiciously. “Wait a minute.” I frowned. “What?” He pointed at my stomach. “How do we know it’s not mine?” I stared at him for a second. “Nathan







