Chapter 8

My water had broken. The contractions were coming in regular waves.

My baby was coming into the world early.

With all my strength, I pulled out my phone and dialed the Valerio family's emergency number.

"This is Scarlett. I'm at the Long Island racetrack. I need to get to a hospital immediately... I'm going into labor..."

The other end of the line exploded into chaos. In less than ten minutes, men from the Valerio family stormed the venue.

They quickly placed me on a stretcher and rushed me to a private hospital controlled by my family.

In the ambulance, I gritted my teeth through the pain. The paramedics were performing emergency procedures, but the situation was dire.

Meanwhile, Kieran was busy comforting a frightened Camilla, inspecting a tiny, insignificant scratch on her neck.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here," he whispered, stroking her hair.

One of his men ran up to him. "Boss, a pregnant woman was hit by a stray bullet. Her condition is critical. The Valerios have taken her for an emergency delivery."

Only then did Kieran remember that he hadn't seen me. A knot of unease tightened in his chest, and he reached for his phone to check on me.

"Kieran!" Camilla suddenly shrieked. "I'm so scared. Don't leave me!"

She clung to his arm, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls.

Kieran's hand froze mid-air. In the end, he put his phone away.

"I won't leave you."

The call was never made.

Twenty-four hours later, I woke up in the Valerio family's private hospital.

A nurse walked over, holding a tiny infant.

"Congratulations, Principessa. He's a healthy boy."

Looking into his deep eyes, I couldn't help but think of the man I had randomly picked at the club.

I was drunk and hazy that night, and the club was so dark I never saw his face.

I just had a gut feeling that a one-night stand with a man that tall and well-built couldn't be a bad thing.

Now, seeing my baby's perfect features, a flicker of curiosity arose in me.

That man must have been quite handsome.

How else could we have created such a beautiful baby?

I carefully reached out a finger and stroked the baby's soft, silk-like hand. Tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably.

"My love, thank you for coming. You've given me the key to my freedom."

Leo Valerio. That would be his name.

No Thompson. Only a Valerio.

I stayed at the Valerio private hospital for a week, letting my body recover.

The day I was discharged, I received a text from Kieran.

"Camilla is emotionally fragile right now. I'm taking her to Europe for a while to recover."

My expression was placid. I simply replied, "Noted."

There was not a single flicker of emotion.

It was better that he wasn't at the estate. It saved me the trouble of explaining things.

Back at the estate, I placed the signed dissolution agreement on the desk in Kieran's study, right where he handled family business.

So he would see it the moment he returned.

Then, holding Leo, I pulled my suitcase and walked out of the place I had called home for three years.

A driver took us to JFK International Airport.

I had bought a ticket to Chicago, where a friend from college lived. I could stay there for a while.

But my luck was terrible. While waiting for my flight, I saw two familiar figures.

Kieran and Camilla were standing at the VIP entrance not far away.

They were heading to Paris. Camilla was holding Kieran's arm, smiling happily.

I immediately turned away, holding Leo tighter.

Kieran seemed to sense something and glanced back, but the terminal was bustling. He just shook his head.

"Impossible," he muttered to himself. "She's safe at the estate. I must be seeing things."

I watched from a corner as he picked up his phone.

My phone, in my pocket, buzzed.

"Do you want any gifts? I'll bring something back for you from Paris."

I looked at the message and thought of all his empty promises.

But it was all too late.

I turned and walked towards the boarding gate, replying simply: "No need."

The plane was about to take off, and the flight attendant was urging passengers to turn off their phones.

I held a sleeping Leo and said softly to the flight attendant, "Just one moment. I have to send one last message."

I took Leo's birth certificate from my bag and snapped a picture of it.

Then, I sent the photo to five people.

The Don of the Thompson family, Kieran's father.

My father, the Don of the Valerio family.

The Consiglieres of both families.

And finally, to Kieran himself.

[I had the baby. He isn't yours.]

[Our alliance and our marriage are over. Don't look for me.]

The moment the message sent, I blocked and deleted all their contact information without hesitation, and pulled out the SIM card.

The plane's engines roared as it lifted off the runway.

Through the window, I watched New York City shrink below, a feeling of immense relief washing over me.

From this day forward, Kieran Thompson and I had nothing to do with each other.