"That child is not mine."
The words were ice. Not spoken with anger. Worse…with certainty.
I stared at Damien, the man I'd married, the man I'd loved so stupidly, with a trembling hand still clutching the pregnancy test. Two pink lines. Clear as day. Undeniable. Just like the nausea that had pulled me out of bed for the past two weeks. Just like the hope that bloomed inside me when I thought…God, when I believed he'd actually be happy.
But he didn't flinch.
He didn't even blink.
"You heard me," he said again, stepping back like I was contagious. "It's not mine."
"You can't be serious." My voice cracked. "Damien… it's ours. I haven't been with anyone else. Ever."
He laughed. A low, bitter sound that scraped through my chest. "You expect me to believe that? After all the late nights? The secret calls? The sudden distance? You practically screamed guilt."
"What late nights?" I choked. "What calls? I was working. On the campaign you asked me to lead. The one you didn't have time for."
"I trusted you with it," he said, coldly. "And now I see that was a mistake."
I blinked, barely believing what I was hearing. "A mistake?"
He turned his back to me, pacing across the sleek marble tiles like I was some puzzle he couldn't solve. "You were always somewhere else. With someone else."
I felt the floor tilt beneath me. "That's not true. I was alone. Every single night, Damien. Waiting for you. While you were out wining and dining investors, throwing me smiles for the press and empty promises in private."
His jaw tightened. "Don't flip this on me."
"I'm not flipping anything! I'm telling you I'm pregnant. And you're the father. And you're acting like I'm…"
"A liar," he spat, voice low but razor sharp.
My breath caught. "I have stood by you. I've fought for you. Defended you. Your board wanted to tear me apart and your mother never even pretended to like me. But I stayed. I stayed because I loved you."
"You were never a fit." he muttered.
The words punched the breath right out of me. I stepped back, clutching the test like it could protect me.
"You really believe that?"
He looked at me, face unreadable. "We both knew it from the beginning. But I thought maybe…maybe I could make it work. Until you gave me a reason not to."
"And what reason was that, Damien?" I whispered. "Loving you too much? Giving up my career for yours? Spending every ounce of my energy trying to prove to this world that I was worthy of the title Mrs. Sinclair?"
His eyes darkened. "Don't twist this. Don't act like the victim."
"God," I whispered, my throat aching. "You actually think I got pregnant on purpose."
"I think you wanted something to tie me down," he said, voice flat. "And you picked the oldest trick in the book."
"You think I'd use a baby, our baby…as leverage?" I shook my head, stunned. "You really believe that's who I am?"
He didn't answer.
I took a step closer. "Do the test. Blood, DNA, whatever you need. I have nothing to hide."
"There are labs that fake those results."
"Then use your lab. Your doctor. I'll sign anything. But don't stand there and tell me I'm lying when I've done nothing but stand by you."
"You're too good at it." he muttered.
"What?"
"Lying," he said with a shrug. "You always made it look so sincere."
That broke something in me. A final snap. I placed the test gently on the coffee table between us like it was a weapon. A truth neither of us wanted to carry anymore.
"You once told me I was the only person you ever trusted."
"I was wrong."
"You said you'd fight the world for me."
He looked away. "The world doesn't matter anymore."
"So what does, Damien?" My voice dropped to a whisper. "Your ego? Your boardroom reputation? The legacy you're so afraid of tarnishing?"
"I'm protecting myself," he said. "From betrayal."
"You're protecting yourself from the truth," I replied. "But one day, it'll hit you."
He stared at me but said nothing.
"You'll look into our child's eyes, and you'll see your own."
"I won't," he said, unmoved.
I inhaled deeply, trembling. My throat tightened around the pain. "You'll regret this."
"I doubt it."
I stood taller then, shoulders squaring. "I may be walking out with nothing, Damien. No money. No home. No name. But I'm not walking out with shame."
I turned for the door. My fingers trembled as they gripped the brass handle.
I paused only once. "You'll remember this moment. And you'll hate yourself for it."
He didn't respond.
So I walked out. Out of the penthouse. Out of the marriage. Out of the fantasy.
Pregnant.
Alone.
Heartbroken.
But not broken.
Never again.
TWO WEEKS LATER
The clinic was quiet. Too quiet.
Even the air felt padded, as if it didn't want to echo footsteps or carry voices.
I sat on the edge of the examination table, hands curled around the ultrasound photo in my lap. A tiny, smudged gray blur. A heartbeat. Life.
My baby.
I ran my fingers over the image slowly. His heartbeat had been strong. Steady. Unlike mine.
"Everything looks healthy," the doctor had said. "Strong start."
I should've felt relief. But instead, all I felt was hollow.
A soft knock tapped at the door.
"Miss Sinclair?" the nurse peeked her head in. "You have a visitor."
My brows furrowed. "I wasn't expecting anyone."
She hesitated. "He said he's… your husband."
I stood up so fast the paper sheet beneath me crinkled loudly.
"Tell him to leave," I said sharply. "Now."
"I…he's already in the hallway…"
The door opened.
But it wasn't Damien.
It was Elias.
Damien's closest friend. His lawyer. His fixer. And the only one in that cold, glittering world who'd ever treated me like more than an accessory.
He stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him gently. His suit was perfect, as always, but his eyes… they were heavy.
"We need to talk." he said.
I narrowed my eyes. "If you're here to deliver a check or a warning, save your breath."
"I'm not." he said quietly.
"Then why are you here?"
He walked further into the room, his expression unreadable. "Because you deserve to know the truth."
I crossed my arms. "What truth?"
He held my gaze. "About the setup. And the real reason Damien thinks that baby isn't his."
My heart thudded. "What are you talking about?"
Elias's eyes darkened. "Someone made sure Damien believed the worst. Someone wanted him to."
I blinked. "Are you saying… someone planted this? Deliberately?"
"Yes." he said. "And I have proof."