Semua Bab A Twist of Fate with the Callous Billionaire : Bab 31 - Bab 40

—SophiaThe walls here were too white. Not cream or beige or almond or any of those soft names paint companies like to assign. Just—white. Stark. Cold. The kind that stares back at you.I’ve never felt so unwelcome in a room that was temporarily mine.A single suitcase was tucked under the makeshift bed. I haven’t unpacked yet. There’s nothing to arrange. Just a couple dresses. A toothbrush. The ultrasound photo I slipped into my coat before bolting.I don’t know what this place is exactly. Someone owed the coffee shop owner a favor—an old friend of her late husband, apparently. Said I could crash here for a few days. No ID. No questions.I sat on the cold floor lost in thoughts, I stretched my legs out across the cold tiles. The place was too silent, but the silence felt like noise in my ears—too loud.I wanted to cry, but the tears in my eyes were stuck—not coming anymore. Maybe I used them all up.My phone vibrated again. Unknown number. This was the fifth call in ten minutes.I st

—SophiaI departed when Carla was asleep.I did not leave a note.Didn't even wear a jacket.The air nipped at my arms but I felt nothing. Nothing mattered. I was fueled now on a different fuel—fire. The type of fire that sears at the base of your back when someone has been tampering with your life.Naseera longed forShe would know.I gripped my phone tightly as I read the message from Luna I did not have a lot of faith in her.The location was a high-end-townhouse in uptown. Most likely rented out in someone else's name. Jude said he was used to the neighborhood, but it wasn't a so-safe neighborhood—I just had a place. A direction to go.Another activity other than running.I took the bus and walked the last half-dozen blocks. I was shallow-breathing by the time I got to the drop-off point, the baby kicking now and again as if commanding me to turn back. I couldn’t.This wasn't all about me anymore. It never was.She tried to erase me. To turn Ethan against me. She desired my child.

—SophiaMy eyes were closed. Sleep was not close.Not quite.Not when chaos echoed around me. Not when the only thing that kept me strong seemed to be in danger. I lay in bed for hours with the wind crashing against the walls of Ethan's penthouse apartment, my thoughts twisting and turning within the silence like a snake.Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw her face—her mocking smile and the poison within it. Her voice echoed around me as a sentence.I won't go alone the next time.She wasn't joking.And that frightened me more than anything else.Because I trusted her.The sheets felt warm against me, the bed snug and warm as the battle raged within me. It took me a long time finally to rouse and sit up, pull my knees up to my chest and look out into the night.It is already 4 am, but I could not stand the silence. It was suffocating me.I sneaked barefoot out of the room wrapped in one of Ethan's enormous shirts that wrapped around me entirely. His smell lingered on it like somethin

The doll was gone.Russ had burned it.No trace left behind.And yet, the lingering smell of plastics, scent of burnt cloth, gas odors that did not have to be translated—the stench still clung to the atmosphere like a promise we could not erase.Ethan leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window again, his arms crossed, staring out over the city as though he could reduce it to ashes with a look.No words.Not a single one.I sat on the couch, my hand resting on my stomach, feeling more than motion.Fear was dwelling within me now.Not the kind that yelled.The kind that made you silent.Too silent."Was it Luna?" I at last spoke, at last shattering the quiet.Ethan's head turned slightly."No," he answered.I blinked. "You're sure.""She's not imaginative like that," he growled. "She doesn't have precision. That—he jerked his finger in the direction of the elevator—was done on purpose. Symbolic. That's Maurice."I gulped hard.Maurice.The knife-eyed cousin and the smile that never did

—SophiaI didn’t ask him if he was okay.I didn’t need to.Ethan stared at the photo for two full minutes before placing the file gently on the table, like it was a glass he didn’t want to shatter yet.Liam.Warren.Same frame. Same night.No words.No explanations.Just one picture that made my chest lock up.“You knew?” I asked quietly.“I suspected.”That was all he said.And then he moved.Fast.Efficient.Pulling out his phone, typing something, sending it off without blinking. I didn’t ask who.He was back in his world now—the one where emotions didn’t cloud judgment.Just facts.Just strategy.“Go upstairs,” he said.“No.”“Sophia—”“I’m not leaving you.”He paused.Then his eyes shifted to me. Not with annoyance.With calculation.Like I had become part of the equation now.Not just something to protect—but something to use… maybe even trust.He didn’t argue again.****The boardroom in his private office was colder than the rest of the penthouse.Walls of glass. Empty seats.