(Amelia’s POV)I’d been climbing the walls inside the penthouse. Ethan meant well, always telling me to “rest” like I was made of glass, but I couldn’t take another hour lying on the couch watching the news cycle chew us up. So I pulled on leggings, a hoodie, and sneakers, and went for a walk. Nothing dramatic, just a slow loop around the block to feel like a person again.I was halfway past a row of little cafés when a voice stopped me.“Amelia.”I knew it before I even turned. My stomach sank, like it always did when I heard him.Leo.He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, dressed down in jeans and a leather jacket. He could’ve passed for any regular guy, if you didn’t know the history. If you didn’t know the damage.“What do you want?” I asked, already bracing.“Just to talk.” He stepped closer. “Why haven’t you been at the office?”I shifted my weight, crossing my arms. “Because I’m not going back. Not now.”He frowned. “You’re just… giving up your work? That doesn’t sound
(Amelia’s POV)I couldn’t remember the last time my body felt this deliciously heavy. Maybe never. My limbs were warm, tangled with Ethan’s, my heartbeat slowly crawling back to normal.He was still hovering half over me, his chest damp, his hair sticking up in every possible direction. I reached up, poking at it with my finger.“You look like you wrestled a hurricane,” I muttered.He grinned, lazy and proud. “Pretty sure I just did.”I rolled my eyes, shoving lightly at his shoulder. “Wow. One good round and suddenly you’re a poet.”“One?” His brows rose. “That wasn’t one.”I bit my lip to stop from smiling. “Fine. One… very extended, very enthusiastic performance.”“That’s better,” he said, settling down beside me and tugging me into his chest like I weighed nothing.The silence that followed was warm, filled with the sound of our breathing and the faint hum of the city outside. For the first time in weeks, my mind wasn’t racing with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios.But of course,
Ethan’s POV)I got home later than I wanted, my hands still sore from punching Ryan and my mind replaying Sienna’s words like a bad song on loop. The city outside the apartment was quiet, but inside, I expected Amelia to be asleep—curled under the blankets, probably stealing all of them as usual.Instead, when I opened the door, I froze.She was sitting on the couch. Not in pajamas. Not in her robe.Lingerie.Black, lace, ridiculous lingerie that I had no idea she even owned. Her legs were crossed, one heel dangling lazily in the air. She looked like sin wrapped in silk and confidence, except for the little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth that gave her away.“Amelia?” I croaked, my voice embarrassingly rough.She pressed a finger to her lips. “Shhh.”That one syllable fried every coherent thought I’d been carrying.My jacket was still half on, my tie loose, my shirt wrinkled from the earlier brawl, and she just looked at me—waiting.“You’re—uh,” I stammered, blinking. “You’re
Ethan’s POV)It was a Thursday morning, and it was starting to look like Halloween. The office was loud in the way only PR disasters could make it. And I actually spotted a couple of people already playing pranks on their fellow coworkers.Phones rang off the hook, people darted down hallways, voices overlapped in panic. Veronica was at the center of it all, red nails flashing as she barked orders.“Ethan.” She snapped her fingers at me like I was a waiter instead of her stepson. “The last campaign is a mess. You’ll fix it. And you’ll work with Ryan.”My jaw clenched. Of course.Ryan leaned against the glass wall like he owned the building, smirking, thumbs scrolling his phone. When Veronica swept out, heels clicking like gunshots, I walked straight to him.“You ready to actually do your job, or are you too busy screwing family?” I said, low enough that only he heard.His smirk faltered. “You wanna start this now?”“Should’ve started it years ago.” I stepped closer. “You slept with V
(Amelia’s POV)The doctor squinted at the monitor, pressed a few buttons, and then the room filled with the sound.Fast. Steady. Strong.The heartbeat.I let out a sob I hadn’t realized I was holding. My hands flew to my face, covering my mouth, tears slipping through my fingers.Beside me, Ethan made a strangled sound, half laugh, half cry. “That’s it? That’s—holy crap—that’s our kid?”The doctor nodded calmly. “Yes. Your baby looks fine. No internal bleeding, no detachment. You were very lucky.”Ethan dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “Oh my God. I am so ugly crying right now. This is—sorry, ignore me.”I peeked at him through my fingers. His cheeks were streaked, his nose red. He laughed again, embarrassed.“You look ridiculous,” I whispered, still crying.“Yeah? So do you,” he shot back, voice cracking.The doctor cleared her throat gently. “If I can continue…?”We both nodded like guilty teenagers.She adjusted the wand again, angling it toward the screen. “See here? Hear
Ethan’s POV)“Amelia…stay awake.” Blue lights strobed across the inside of the ambulance as I sat strapped to the bench, one hand locked around hers. Her skin was clammy, pale, but her grip squeezed back, faint and shaky.“Stay with me, baby. Just stay with me,” I muttered, trying to sound calm, but my voice cracked on every word.She blinked slowly, whispering, “I’m fine. It’s just… my stomach feels tight.”That word—stomach—hit me like a blade. Not her. Not the baby.I turned to the paramedic. “She’s pregnant. Just a month. We—we just came from the doctor. We heard the heartbeat.” My words tumbled out like loose stones. “Is she bleeding? Do you see anything? Is the baby—”The paramedic’s tone was steady, practiced. “Sir, we’re monitoring her. No visible bleeding. Vitals are holding. But we’ll get her scanned as soon as we arrive. Focus on keeping her calm.”Calm? My chest felt like it was splitting apart.I leaned close, brushing Amelia’s damp hair back from her face. “You hear tha