Chapter 1
I screamed once, and the sound vanished into the damp ribs of the abandoned warehouse. By the time Julian found me, I was already in labor, already bleeding fear into the concrete, and already waiting for him to make the last mistake of his life.
Rain hammered the broken skylights above me. Cold water dripped onto my face, my dress, my swollen belly. Every contraction tore through me like lightning, but I kept one hand clenched around the small black device hidden beneath my palm.
Julian Blackwood kicked down the rotting office door with the same polished shoe he had worn to our engagement party.
“Well,” he said, smiling down at me. “The queen of Vance Meridian finally looks human.”
I gasped, sweat burning my eyes. “Julian… call an ambulance.”
He laughed.
Behind him stood his new wife, Celeste, wrapped in a cream coat, holding a designer umbrella as if the filth around her might apologize for existing.
“Ambulance?” Celeste said. “You should have thought of that before refusing to sign over the trust.”
I stared at them through the pain. Five months ago, Julian had kissed my hand in front of investors and promised forever. Two weeks later, I discovered the offshore transfers, the forged board documents, and the marriage license he had quietly filed with Celeste while still wearing my ring.
When I ended the engagement, he smiled and told the press I was unstable.
When I froze his access to company funds, he sued for rights to my unborn child.
When the judge laughed him out of court, Julian disappeared.
Until tonight.
He crouched beside me, his cologne cutting through the mold and rust. “Your father built an empire. You hid behind it. But that baby…” His eyes dropped to my stomach. “That baby gives me a way back in.”
“You won’t touch my child.”
His smile sharpened. “You’re in no position to make rules.”
He grabbed my ankles.
Pain exploded up my spine as he dragged me across the filthy concrete. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I did not scream again. Not for him. Not for Celeste. Not for the cameras hidden in the rafters.
Julian leaned close and hissed, “I’m taking the baby to my wife, and leaving you to be found with the trash.”
Celeste tilted her head. “She still thinks someone is coming.”
Through the next contraction, I let one tear slip down my cheek.
Not from fear.
May you like
From relief.
Because Julian had finally said enough.
