All Chapters of Revengeful Contract to the Cold Heir: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

Emma’s POV “Congratulations, Mrs. Stanford. You’re pregnant. Three weeks, according to the bloodwork.”Dr. Whitman’s voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel. My fingers twitched against my knees. I looked down at the small slip of thermal paper she slid across the desk. A black-and-white smudge.“Three weeks?” My voice cracked. I reached out, my hand shaking so violently the paper rattled against the wood. I gripped the edges of the ultrasound photo, digging my fingernails into the border just to anchor myself.“Three weeks,” Dr. Whitman repeated with a warm, professional smile. “Given the history, we’ll want to monitor your hormone levels closely, but everything looks perfect right now.” Three years of negative tests. Three years of synthetic hormones that made my skin hot and my mood swing like a pendulum. I stared at the smudge, and for a second, the sterile white office faded. I was back in the dining room of the Stanford estate last Christmas. Michael’s m

“Where am I?” I asked as I opened my eyes. The smell of bleach and isopropyl alcohol hit me before I could open my eyes. My eyelids felt heavy, like they were taped shut. The first thing I did was move my right hand. I dragged it slowly across the coarse white sheet, my palm flattening against the lower curve of my stomach.“Easy, Emma. Don’t try to move just yet.” Dr. Whitman’s voice was steady, her hand resting gently on my shoulder.I forced my eyes open, the bright fluorescent lights stinging my pupils. “My baby,” I whispered, my voice sounding like gravel. “Dr. Whitman, please. Is the baby—”The door to the room clicked open, cutting me off.Michael rushed in first, his tie loosened, his dark hair a messy tangle. Right behind him was Zara. She was wearing a different blouse than the one I’d seen her in an hour ago, or was it yesterday? Time felt broken. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face pale.The moment I saw them, the fog in my brain cleared, replaced by a heat. The image of t

Michael’s hand slid down to Zara’s waist as the door swung shut, his fingers splaying across the small of her back to guide her into the hallway. The gold of his wedding band caught the corridor light one last time before the door clicked into the frame, locking me out of their world completely.The silence that followed was suffocating. I sat on the edge of the mattress, my feet dangling over the floor, staring at the cup of water, my throat completely dry. The door opened again, a soft rustle of fabric breaking the quiet. Dr. Whitman walked back in alone. The chart in her hands looked heavy. She kept her eyes fixed entirely on me, her expression dropping its professional mask for something deeply heavy.“Emma,” she said softly, moving to the side of the bed. She didn't check the monitors. She just pulled the rolling stool over and sat down so we were at eye level. “We have the results of the second blood panel and the ultrasound.”My hand, completely on instinct, crawled back acros