Semua Bab Entangled with a Baby: Bab 121 - Bab 130

The room felt less like a place of business and more like a pressure cooker, the air thick with unspoken anxieties and the weight of their shared burden. It was Tay's private lounge, usually a sanctuary of muted elegance where deals were brokered and strategies were whispered over the clinking of glasses, but tonight, the dim lighting and heavy silence amplified the tension that crackled between the three men.King sat across from Detective Marshal, the weight of their recent, disturbing revelations pressing down on them both, a shared grimness etched into their features. Tay, ever the composed host, occupied a nearby armchair, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a mask of deep concern, his eyes reflecting the turmoil that threatened to engulf them all."I still find myself reeling from the sheer audacity of it all – those men just waltzing in and taking Chase," Marshal said, his voice a low growl that betrayed the barely contained fury simmering beneath the surface. "This isn't

-MATTHEW-The rain was coming down in sheets, blurring the city lights into a hazy, indistinct glow. Matthew sat in the back of the car, the expensive leather doing little to comfort him. His jaw was clenched so tight it ached, and his hands, usually so steady, were trembling.He watched the world go by outside the window, but he didn't really see it. His mind was a storm, a chaotic mix of anger, fear, and a bitter, twisted satisfaction.It should have worked.The thought echoed in his head, a relentless, maddening drumbeat. He had planned everything so carefully, so meticulously. Every detail had been accounted for, every contingency considered. He had been so close. So damn close.He thought of Laura. Her face, pale and fragile, haunted his thoughts. He remembered the way she had looked at him, once, with love, with trust. Now, he knew, she looked at him with disgust, with hatred. And that knowledge, that certainty, was a knife twisting in his gut.He had loved her. In his own twist

"I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness," King continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I know that I have broken your trust. But I am asking you, begging you, to give me another chance. To let me show you, every day for the rest of my life, how much you mean to me."He opened the box, revealing a beautiful, sparkling ring. "Laura," he said, his voice filled with a desperate hope, "you are still my fiancée. Will you let me earn back your trust? Will you let me love you, cherish you, protect you, for the rest of our days?"Laura stared at the ring, tears streaming down her face. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him that she forgave him, that she loved him, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But something held her back. The pain was still too raw, the wounds still too deep.She looked at King, her heart aching. "I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I need more time, King. I need time to

"Leaving? Now? Where are you going?" King asked, his mind reeling."I don't know," Laura replied, not meeting his gaze. "Anywhere but here."King stepped forward, grabbing her arm gently. "Laura, please, don't do this," he said, his voice pleading. "Don't leave. Not like this. We can work through this. We can fix this. Just give us a chance."Laura pulled her arm away, her eyes flashing with anger. "A chance?" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "You want another chance? After everything you've done? After everything we've lost?""I know I messed up," King said, his voice cracking. "I know I can't take back what happened. But I love you, Laura. I love you more than anything in this world. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness.""Forgiveness?" Laura laughed bitterly. "Forgiveness? You think a few words can erase the pain? You think a few apologies can bring back our baby?""No," King said, his voice filled with anguish. "I don't think words can fix everything. B

The sterile scent of the hospital room was a stark contrast to the vibrant images that flickered through King's mind. It wasn't a year. It hadn't been a year since he'd last seen her. Not really. He'd made sure of that. A dangerous game, he knew, a descent into a darkness he tried to justify with the flimsy excuse of needing to know she was safe, that she was okay.He'd told himself it was about protection, a twisted form of care. The truth was far more insidious. He couldn't let go. The thought of her moving on, of building a life without him, was a torment he couldn't bear. So he'd watched. From the shadows of the internet, a ghost haunting her digital footsteps.He knew about her studio, the converted warehouse space she'd transformed into a vibrant sanctuary. He'd seen the photos, the soaring ceilings, the walls splashed with color, the canvases that pulsed with her unique energy. He knew about her late nights, the way she'd lose herself in her work, fueled by coffee and passion.