e P

ction of the ballroom lights. My heart thundered in my chest, a frantic drumbeat against my

voice raw. "Now! And not a word of this leaves this room! Understand? Not a word!" My eyes were

d as they carefully lifted her, her sodden dress clinging to her slender frame, her face alarmingly pale. Her head lolled to the sid

arling, are you alright?" she cooed, her voice soft, yet possessive. "She was simply hysterical, wasn't she? Trying to r

lm. "Yes," I said, my voice hoarse. "She was hysterical." I forced a smile, a brittle, strained thing, for t

ash. My mind kept replaying Blaire' s pale face, the way she went limp in the water. Was

Blaire. Her quiet determination, her unwavering loyalty, her ridiculous, selfless love. Had I truly thrown it al

rds the now-closed doors, the path where Blaire had been carried out. A subtle, cruel smile played on her lips, a

t a surge of desperate urgency. I needed to know. I needed to confirm. I marche

to her, his face grave. "Concussion, Mr. Dyer," he reported, his voice low. "And a deep cut on her forehead. She's st

hat. Not our baby. "What is it, doctor?" I

arly to say for certain, but the internal bleeding... it's not go

in the fountain. But the earlier injuries... the ones A

hazy at first, then sharpening, hardening into a chilling acc

ster?" I hissed, leaning over her, my voice tight with indignation. "You' re the one who cras

you, Cade. You always were good at sacrificing others for your own gain. But this? This is beyond even your cru

s. Our baby? No. It couldn't be. "What are you talking about?" I sta

stepped forward. "She's lying, Cade!" she shrieked, her voice shrill.

Blaire. "Is this true, Blaire?" My voice was barely

. "I was going to tell you tonight, after your party," she whispered, a tear escaping th

of my ambition, because of my callous indifference. The realizati

arms around me. "Don't listen to her, Cade.

sudden, uncontrollable rage. "Get out, Ale

se... I didn't know. I swear... I didn't know." I reache

r everything. Over me. Over our child. And you will live with that choice for the rest of your miserable life." Her

able surge of fear. This wasn't the Blaire I knew, the gentle, forgiving artist.

hone calls. She's... unstable." I couldn't face her. The guilt, the shame, the terrifying steel in her eyes