But then, a piercing static from the intercom panel shattered the quiet. A woman's purr, Estella's voice, cut through the air, asking Holden when he'd dump "that boring, common woman upstairs." Holden's reply, flat and calculating, revealed I was merely a spotless tool to clean up his family's image, to be discarded after next month's charity gala.
My knees gave out. I collapsed onto the freezing tile, the pregnancy test now a disgusting joke. Holden's footsteps approached, forcing me to hide the symbol of my shattered future deep in my makeup bag, dreading his discovery.
He later presented a brutal prenuptial agreement, ensuring I'd leave with nothing. At a family dinner, Estella, adorned with the diamond necklace Holden bought for his "future wife," publicly humiliated me by spilling wine on my gown, while Holden embraced her and coldly ordered me to clean myself up.
My tears stopped. The pathetic, frightened mask melted away, revealing a woman no longer naive, no longer controlled. Wiping away the ink of his false promises, I clutched my flat stomach, a silent vow forming. He thought I'd leave with a check and my shame, but I would make Holden Dalton learn what a real price was.
Chapter 1
Kenia POV:
My hands shook so hard that the plastic casing of the Clearblue pregnancy test rattled against the cold marble of the bathroom sink.
I set it down. I stared at the digital screen. The little hourglass icon blinked. Every flash felt like a hammer hitting my ribs.
Then, it stopped. The word appeared in solid, undeniable black letters.
*Pregnant.*
I sucked in a sharp breath. The air burned my throat. Tears instantly welled in my eyes, hot and fast, spilling over my lashes to drop onto the collar of my silk robe.
I reached down. My fingers spread wide, pressing flat against my lower stomach. It was perfectly flat, but beneath my skin, a new life was already taking root. Holden's child. My child.
My mind flashed back to last night. Holden had pulled me against his chest in the dark. His voice was a low rumble against my ear as he whispered that he wanted an heir. He wanted a child with my blood.
A sob caught in my throat. I had spent my entire childhood bouncing between sterile, cold orphanage rooms. I never had a real bed, a real toy, or a real family. I had a pathological hunger for a complete home. I wanted to belong to someone. Now, I was going to be a mother. I was going to build the family I never had.
I grabbed my phone from the counter. My thumb hovered over Holden's private number. I wanted to call him right now. I wanted to hear his voice change when I told him the news.
But my thumb stopped.
I lowered the phone. No. This was too important for a phone call. I would cook his favorite dinner tonight. I would light candles. I would wrap the test in a small gift box and hand it to him.
I turned to the mirror. My cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were red. I turned on the cold water tap. I splashed water on my face, trying to cool my burning skin. I grabbed a thick white towel from the rack.
Just as I pressed the towel to my face, a loud, piercing crackle of static erupted from the wall.
I jumped. The towel slipped from my hands and fell into the wet sink.
I looked at the smart home intercom panel near the door. The static hissed again, followed by the muffled background noise of the downstairs study. Someone had accidentally triggered the whole-house broadcasting system.
I took a step toward the panel to press the mute button.
Then, I heard a woman's laugh.
It was a soft, breathy, seductive sound. My hand froze in mid-air. I knew that laugh. It belonged to Estella, the daughter of the Dalton family's oldest allies.
"The vintage on this is entirely wrong," Estella purred through the speaker. I heard the sharp, clear clink of crystal wine glasses touching.
"Only you could taste the true notes of a Romanée-Conti, Estella," a man replied.
It was Holden. His voice was low, lazy, and dripping with the exact same charm that had made me fall in love with him.
My heart felt like a giant hand had just squeezed it. My lungs stopped working. The air in the bathroom suddenly felt too thin to breathe.
"So," Estella's voice dropped lower, turning teasing and cruel. "When are you going to dump that boring, common woman upstairs?"
I bit down on my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. My hands clamped onto the edge of the marble sink. My knuckles turned stark white.
I waited for Holden to defend me. I waited for him to tell her to leave.
"Soon," Holden said. His tone was suddenly cold. It was the voice of a calculating businessman. "Kenia is just a tool. The Dalton family needs to clean up our underworld image. She has a spotless background. She makes me look approachable to the public."
"And then?" Estella asked, a smile evident in her voice.
"After the charity gala next month, her use is over," Holden said flatly. "I'll hand her a check and tell her to get out."
My knees gave out.
I collapsed onto the freezing tile floor. The impact sent a shock of pain up my legs, but I barely felt it. I stared up at the marble sink. The pregnancy test was still sitting there. A minute ago, it was the symbol of my new life. Now, it was a disgusting joke.
The intercom hissed again. I heard the sound of clothing rustling. I heard Estella let out a satisfied, heavy moan.
My stomach violently turned over.
I scrambled across the tiles on my hands and knees. I reached the toilet just in time. I grabbed the porcelain rim and threw up. My body heaved, rejecting the breakfast I had eaten, rejecting the reality I was living.
Tears fell from my face and splashed against the toilet bowl. I was gasping for air, choking on my own sobs.
I forced myself to stand up. My legs shook violently. I hit the flush button to drown out the noise of my crying.
I looked at the sink. The test. I had to hide it. If Holden knew I was pregnant, he would never let me leave. I would become a permanent breeding machine for his mafia empire.
I grabbed the test. I unzipped my makeup bag, shoved the plastic stick deep into the bottom lining, and yanked the zipper shut.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the bedroom outside. I recognized the slight, uneven drag of his left foot. He was coming.
The metal door handle of the frosted glass door was violently pushed down.
"Kenia," Holden's low, dangerous voice bled through the crack in the door. "You've been in there too long."