Chapter 5
932words
I choked on air. "Excuse me?"
"Not a fake marriage," he clarified, his eyes darkening. "A legal, binding union. You become Mrs. Blackwood. As the spouse of a US citizen, your status is secured immediately. Kane can't touch you. Liam can't threaten you."
"You're insane," I whispered. "You barely know me."
"I know you're the best at what you do. I know you're loyal to a fault, until you're betrayed. And I know you need protection." He leaned forward, his intensity suffocating me in the best way possible. "I need a wife to stop my board of directors from pushing matchmakers on me. You need a shield. It's a business transaction."
A business transaction. Just like Liam and Sophia.
"I can't," I said, my hand instinctively covering my stomach again. The weight of my secret pressed down on me. "Noah, my life is a mess right now. You don't know the half of it. I... I might have medical issues to deal with."
I thought of the appointment. The termination.
Noah's eyes dropped to my hand covering my belly. His gaze lingered there for a second too long. Did he suspect? No, that was impossible.
"Whatever baggage you have," Noah said firmly, looking back into my eyes, "I can handle it. I don't care about Liam. I don't care about your past. I'm offering you a future."
He pushed the box closer.
"Marry me. Join the Titans. And watch Liam Sterling regret the day he was born."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Revenge. Safety. A way out.
But could I drag this man into my mess? And what about the baby? If I married Noah, I wouldn't have to worry about money or safety. Maybe... maybe I didn't have to go to that clinic at 2 PM?
The thought was a tiny spark of light in the darkness.
"I..." I started, but my phone buzzed again.
It was a notification from the clinic. Reminder: Your appointment is in 4 hours.
The reality crashed back in. I couldn't marry Noah Blackwood while carrying Liam's child. It was a deception as bad as Liam's.
I stood up abruptly. "I need time. I can't give you an answer right now."
Noah didn't look disappointed. He looked patient. Like a predator waiting for the prey to realize there was nowhere else to run.
"You have until midnight," he said. "Take the ring."
"I can't, "
"Take it," he commanded softly. "Just in case you change your mind. If you don't wear it by midnight, I'll assume the answer is no."
I hesitated, then grabbed the velvet box. It felt burning hot in my hand.
"Thank you," I whispered.
As I turned to leave, Noah spoke one last time.
"Elena?"
I looked back.
"Whatever appointment you have at 2 PM," he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly murmur, "make sure it's what you want. Not what fear is dictating."
I froze. He knew. I didn't know how, but he knew.
I fled the jet, my heart racing faster than it ever had for Liam.
Then 2 PM. I was sitting in the waiting room of the Eastside Women's Clinic. The room smelled of antiseptic and lavender air freshener. It was a scent designed to be calming, but to me, it smelled like despair.
I sat in the corner, my sunglasses still on, clutching a crumpled intake form.
Reason for termination: The line was blank.
How could I explain? My husband is a bigamist. His mistress is carrying his child. I am a pawn in a PR stunt.
"Elena Vance?"
A nurse called my name softly. I flinched.
I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. I walked toward the door, my hand hovering over my flat stomach.
Make sure it's what you want. Not what fear is dictating.
Noah Blackwood's deep voice echoed in my mind, drowning out the clinic's hum.
I stopped in the doorway.
What did I want?
I wanted Liam to hurt. I wanted Sophia to pay. But did I want to erase the life growing inside me? This baby was half Liam, yes. But it was also half me. It was the family I had prayed for during those lonely nights while Liam was "away on business."
If I walked through this door, I was letting Liam win. I was letting his betrayal dictate my body, my future, my motherhood.
I wasn't a coward. I was a fighter.
I looked at the nurse, my breath trembling.
"I... I can't," I whispered.
The nurse looked sympathetic. "It's okay to be scared, honey. We can reschedule."
"No," I said, my voice gaining strength. I crumbled the form in my hand. "No rescheduling. I'm keeping it."
I turned around and walked out. I walked fast, bursting through the clinic doors into the blinding afternoon sun.
I was keeping my baby. And I was going to make sure Liam Sterling never, ever got his hands on it.
Two hours later, I was standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, staring at a stranger.
Liam had sent a dress. Of course he had. He wanted his "wife" to look perfect for the surprise party he thought I didn't know about.
It was a floor-length gown in emerald green, the Glaciers' team color. It was tight, backless, and stunning. It was a uniform.
I zipped it up. It fit like a glove, hiding the secret bump that wasn't showing yet.
I applied my makeup with surgical precision. Sharp eyeliner. Blood-red lipstick. I wasn't dressing for a party; I was dressing for war.
