The message came in while I was still holding the pregnancy report.

I was sitting in the back seat of my car outside the hospital, one hand on the envelope, the other pressed lightly against my stomach because I still could not believe there was a tiny life growing inside me.

Eight weeks.

The doctor had smiled when she said it.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Hayes. Everything looks good so far.”

For three years, I had imagined how I would tell Ethan.

Maybe over dinner.

Maybe with a tiny gift box.

Maybe I would put the ultrasound picture beside his plate and watch his face change from confusion to shock to joy.

I had already booked his favorite restaurant for tonight.

I had already texted the housekeeper to set fresh flowers in the dining room.

I had already started believing that maybe, after years of being a good wife to a man who always seemed one step away from loving me properly, this baby would finally make us feel like a real family.

Then my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

I almost ignored it.

As the wife of Ethan Hayes, CEO of Hayes Group, I received strange messages more often than normal people received weather alerts.

Fake scandals.

Fake affairs.

Fake photos.

People always wanted money, attention, or revenge.

Usually I forwarded everything to security.

Tonight, for reasons I still cannot explain, I opened it myself.

There was no greeting.

No demand.

Just one sentence and a link.

Do you really know what your husband is doing right now?

I stared at the screen for a few seconds.

Then I clicked.

At first, the video was dark.

A shaky camera.

Low sound.

A woman laughing softly.

I frowned, ready to close it, already annoyed that someone had found a new way to waste my evening.

Then the man in the video turned his head.

My breath stopped.

I knew that profile.

I knew that jawline.

I knew the watch on his wrist because I had bought it for him on our second anniversary.

Ethan.

My husband.

The father of the child I had just found out I was carrying.

He was in bed with another woman.

For one horrible moment, my brain refused to understand what my eyes were seeing.

I told myself it had to be fake.

An edited video.

A deepfake.

Some disgusting attempt to ruin him.

Then he spoke.

“Sophia, don’t look at me like that.”

His voice.

His real voice.

Warm.

Teasing.

Intimate in a way he had not sounded with me for months.

The woman beneath him laughed and turned toward the camera just enough for me to see her face.

Sophia Reed.

Everyone knew that name once.

She had been famous for being beautiful, scandalous, and impossible to ignore.

Then came the leaked tapes, the ugly articles, the sponsorships that disappeared overnight, and the sudden silence when she vanished from the public eye.

I had met her once in Ethan’s office.

He had introduced her with a casual smile.

“She’s an old family friend. Basically a little sister.”

I remembered feeling strange about it at the time.

The Hayes family was conservative enough to judge women for wearing the wrong shade of lipstick at dinner, so I had wondered how their so-called family friend had ended up as a former adult film star with half the internet still whispering about her.

But I had not asked.

Because I trusted my husband.

Because I was foolish enough to think trust was the same thing as truth.

On the screen, Sophia touched his face.

“What if Olivia finds out?”

I clutched the phone so hard my fingers hurt.

Ethan laughed.

Actually laughed.

“She won’t.”

“You sound so sure.”

“She handles problems for me. She doesn’t become one.”

The sentence hit harder than the image of his body over hers.

For three years, I had stood beside him at every business dinner, every charity event, every family gathering where people looked through me unless they needed something handled.

I had softened his public image.

I had cleaned up his rumors.

I had smiled when his mother corrected my dress, my posture, my tone, my entire existence.

And Ethan knew it.

He had let me do it.

Sophia’s voice dropped into something soft and poisonous.

“Do you love her?”

My heart stopped again.

Ethan did not answer immediately.

For one second, I hated myself for hoping.

Then he kissed Sophia’s shoulder and said, “I married her.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

His silence stretched.

I could hear traffic outside my car.

I could hear my own breathing.

I could hear my future falling apart before the man destroying it even knew I was watching.

Finally, Ethan said, “I never stopped loving you.”

The livestream ended.

The screen went black.

I sat frozen in the back seat, the pregnancy report sliding from my lap onto the floor.

The driver asked from the front, “Mrs. Hayes, are you all right?”

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

Because what could I say?

That I had just watched my husband betray me in real time?

That I was pregnant?

That the woman he called his little sister was actually naked in his arms?

That the dinner I had planned now felt like a funeral?

I bent down, picked up the report, and folded it carefully even though my hands were shaking.

“Take me home,” I said.

My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

The driver looked at me in the mirror but did not ask again.

Smart man.

By the time I reached the penthouse, the dining room was already prepared.

White roses.

Candles.

Ethan’s favorite wine.

Two plates set across from each other like we were still a couple capable of sharing good news.

The sight made me want to break every glass in the room.

Instead, I placed the pregnancy report in my handbag, sat at the end of the table, and waited.

Ethan came home forty minutes later.

He walked in wearing the same suit from the video.

His tie was loose.

His hair was slightly messy.

There was a faint perfume on him that was not mine.

He smiled when he saw the table.

“Big night?”

I looked at him.

The man I had loved for three years stood in front of me with another woman’s scent on his clothes and lies still warm on his mouth.

“Yes,” I said. “You could call it that.”

He frowned slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

I laughed once.

It sounded ugly.

His expression shifted.

“Olivia?”

I took out my phone and placed it on the table.

The livestream had saved automatically.

Maybe the sender planned that.

Maybe they wanted me to have no choice but to confront him.

I pressed play.

For several seconds, Ethan did not understand.

Then Sophia’s laugh filled the dining room.

His face went pale.

I stopped the video before it could go further.

I had already seen enough.

“Explain.”

His jaw tightened.

“Where did you get that?”

“That is your first question?”

“Olivia, answer me.”

“No. You answer me.”

He looked toward the windows, then back at me.

“This isn’t what you think.”

I stared at him.

“You were naked with her.”

“It was a mistake.”

“A livestream mistake?”

His face hardened.

“I didn’t know we were being filmed.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“So your problem is the camera.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It is exactly what you said.”

He dragged a hand through his hair.

“Someone is trying to set me up.”

I smiled without warmth.

“By making you sleep with Sophia Reed?”

His eyes flashed at her name.

That tiny reaction told me more than any confession could.

I stood.

“She wasn’t your little sister.”

Ethan said nothing.

“She was your girlfriend.”

His silence answered me.

I nodded slowly.

“How long?”

“Olivia.”

“How long?”

He looked away.

“A few months.”

I felt the room tilt.

A few months.

While I had been trying to conceive.

While I had been planning a future.

While I had been defending him from rumors that were apparently not rumors at all.

I gripped the back of the chair.

“You told her you never stopped loving her.”

His voice dropped.

“Sophia and I have history.”

“I am your wife.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

His mouth tightened.

“My family forced us apart when we were young. She had nothing after that. No money. No protection. Her life went downhill because of what happened between us.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So you cheated on me because you feel guilty?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, Ethan. What isn’t fair is watching my husband have sex with another woman on a livestream after leaving a hospital with news that should have changed our lives.”

His eyes narrowed.

“What hospital?”

I froze.

The pregnancy report felt heavy inside my handbag.

For one second, I almost told him.

Then I remembered his voice.

I never stopped loving you.

I swallowed the truth.

“Don’t change the subject.”

He stepped closer.

“Olivia, listen to me. Sophia is vulnerable.”

I laughed.

“She looked very comfortable in that video.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

The room went silent.

There it was.

The line I needed.

Not an apology.

Not shame.

Protection.

For her.

Not me.

I looked at him for a long moment.

Then I said, “I want a divorce.”

Ethan blinked as if the word were in a language he did not understand.

“What?”

“I want a divorce.”

His surprise disappeared into irritation.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?”

“You’re upset.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You don’t mean it.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He exhaled, already sounding tired of me. “You saw something ugly tonight, and you’re hurt. I understand that. But divorce is not something you throw around because you’re angry.”

I stared at him.

He still thought he was in control.

Even now.

Even after being exposed.

“You don’t get to decide what I mean.”

“You’re Mrs. Hayes,” he said, as if that title should comfort me. “You have a place in this family. Sophia doesn’t.”

I felt sick.

“You think that makes it better?”

“It means you need to be smart.”

“No, Ethan. It means you expect me to be quiet.”

His phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen.

The look on his face changed.

Softened.

I already knew who it was.

Sophia.

He tried to turn away, but I saw enough.

I laughed again, but this time it hurt less.

“Answer her.”

He put the phone in his pocket.

“Olivia.”

“No, please. Don’t ignore your true love on my account.”

His face darkened.

“You’re crossing a line.”

I picked up my handbag.

“No. I finally found one.”

I walked toward the bedroom.

Behind me, he said, “Where are you going?”

“To sleep in the guest room.”

“This is childish.”

I turned back.

“Then go ask Sophia to comfort you like an adult.”

His expression turned cold.

“You’ll regret making this bigger than it needs to be.”

I held his gaze.

“You made it big when you let strangers watch you betray me.”

I closed the guest room door before he could answer.

For several minutes, I stood with my back against it, shaking so hard my teeth nearly chattered.

Then my phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number.

My stomach tightened.

I opened the message.

If you want to know the truth, go ask your mother-in-law.

A second message followed.

She knew before you did.

I stared at the screen until the words blurred.

Then I lowered my hand to my stomach.

The baby was still there.

For now.

I whispered into the dark room, “I’m sorry.”

Not to Ethan.

Never to Ethan.

To the child I had almost brought into a family built on lies.

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Ethan's voice again.

"I never stopped loving you."

By six in the morning, I gave up trying.

The guest room felt colder than usual.

Or maybe that was just me.

I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the pregnancy report in my hands.

Eight weeks.

Yesterday, those words had made me cry from happiness.

Today, I wasn't even sure if I wanted Ethan to know.

The thought alone made my chest hurt.

A knock sounded on the door.

Then Ethan's voice.

"Olivia."

I didn't answer.

Another knock.

"Come on."

Still nothing.

The door opened anyway.

Of course it did.

Ethan Hayes had never been particularly good at respecting boundaries.

He stepped inside carrying a cup of coffee.

"I figured you hadn't slept."

I looked at him.

The concern on his face almost made me laugh.

Almost.

He set the coffee down on the nightstand.

"We need to talk."

"We already did."

"No, we argued."

I crossed my arms.

"That's usually what happens when someone discovers their husband sleeping with another woman."

His jaw tightened.

"I told you, it's complicated."

"There is nothing complicated about cheating."

His patience visibly thinned.

"Ethan and Sophia isn't something you understand."

I blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person because you're so desperate to romanticize your affair?"

His expression darkened.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

I stood.

"I have somewhere to be."

His eyes narrowed.

"Where?"

"None of your business."

For the first time, genuine irritation crossed his face.

"You're acting irrationally."

There it was.

The classic response.

Women were always irrational when they stopped accepting disrespect.

I grabbed my handbag.

"Goodbye, Ethan."

The Hayes family estate sat outside the city.

Three years ago, arriving here had felt intimidating.

Now it just felt exhausting.

A maid escorted me inside.

Margaret Hayes was already having breakfast when I entered.

My mother-in-law looked elegant as always.

Perfect posture.

Perfect hair.

Perfect pearls.

The queen of appearances.

She smiled when she saw me.

Then her expression changed.

She knew immediately.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

"Olivia."

I remained standing.

"You knew."

The smile disappeared.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then Margaret sighed.

"Sit down."

"No."

"Olivia."

"No."

I stepped closer.

"You knew."

Margaret put down her coffee cup.

Slowly.

Carefully.

The way people did when they were buying themselves time.

"Sit."

I didn't move.

Finally she said,

"Yes."

The answer hit harder than I expected.

Because somewhere deep down, some stupid part of me had hoped she would deny it.

Had hoped she would look shocked.

Had hoped she would be on my side.

Instead she simply admitted it.

Like we were discussing weather.

"How long?"

Margaret looked away.

"A few months."

I laughed bitterly.

"A few months."

"Olivia."

"A few months and nobody thought I deserved to know?"

Her voice remained calm.

"Things were being handled."

The sentence stunned me.

"Handled?"

"Yes."

I stared at her.

"What exactly does that mean?"

Margaret folded her hands together.

"It means Ethan was ending it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"He was ending it?"

"Eventually."

I laughed again.

This time louder.

More broken.

"Eventually?"

"Don't raise your voice."

There it was.

The Hayes family priority system.

Not cheating.

Not betrayal.

Volume.

I looked around the dining room.

The giant portraits.

The expensive furniture.

The family legacy staring down from the walls.

Suddenly it all made sense.

Image mattered more than people.

Always had.

"Did everyone know?"

Margaret hesitated.

That hesitation told me enough.

"Oh my God."

"Not everyone."

"Who?"

"Ethan."

I rolled my eyes.

"Obviously."

"His father."

Of course.

"The attorneys."

I laughed.

"The attorneys knew before his wife?"

"Olivia."

"No, seriously. That's impressive."

Margaret's expression hardened.

"Enough."

I stared at her.

Then asked the question I really wanted answered.

"What do you think about Sophia?"

For the first time, actual irritation crossed her face.

Not at Ethan.

Not at the affair.

At Sophia.

Interesting.

"She's reckless."

I blinked.

"That's your issue?"

"She allowed herself to be recorded."

I genuinely thought I misheard.

"What?"

Margaret's voice became colder.

"She embarrassed the Hayes family."

I stared at her.

Waiting.

Surely there had to be more.

There wasn't.

That was it.

Not cheating.

Not destroying a marriage.

Not humiliating me.

The livestream.

The embarrassment.

The scandal.

That was what upset her.

I laughed.

This time I couldn't stop.

Margaret looked offended.

"What's funny?"

"You."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"I thought you were angry because your son betrayed me."

Silence.

I shook my head.

"But you're angry because his mistress got caught."

Margaret stood.

"Watch your tone."

"No."

For the first time in three years.

No.

Margaret stared at me.

Then picked up her phone.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer.

The call connected.

A familiar female voice answered.

"Sophia."

I froze.

Margaret's face turned icy.

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

Sophia immediately sounded nervous.

"Mrs. Hayes—"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I—"

"You were told to be careful."

My stomach turned.

Told to be careful.

Not told to stay away.

Not told to leave Ethan alone.

Careful.

Like the affair itself was acceptable.

The problem was getting caught.

Margaret continued.

"You will not see Ethan for the next few weeks."

Sophia protested immediately.

"But—"

"I don't care."

Her voice sharpened.

"Do you understand me?"

Silence.

Then a reluctant,

"Yes."

Margaret ended the call.

I stared at her.

Slowly.

Horrified.

"You knew everything."

She sighed.

"Olivia."

"No."

I stepped backward.

"You actually knew everything."

"She was never a threat."

The sentence made me sick.

"What?"

Margaret looked at me as if explaining something obvious.

"You are Ethan's wife."

I laughed.

"And what exactly is she?"

"A mistake."

I stared at her.

Then asked quietly,

"What if I leave?"

For the first time all morning, Margaret looked concerned.

Not sad.

Concerned.

Like someone watching an expensive vase wobble near the edge of a table.

"You won't."

"Why?"

"Because you're smart."

I almost smiled.

"There it is."

"What?"

"You think I'll stay because it's practical."

Margaret didn't answer.

Which was answer enough.

I picked up my bag.

"I'm leaving."

"Olivia."

I turned.

"One day you'll understand."

"No."

I looked directly at her.

"For the first time in my life, I understand perfectly."

Then I walked out.

My phone buzzed before I even reached my car.

Unknown Number.

Again.

I opened it.

A message appeared.

Did she tell you the truth?

I stared at the screen.

Then another arrived.

Or only the part that protects her family?

A chill ran through me.

Whoever this person was, they knew exactly where I had been.

Exactly what I had asked.

Exactly what Margaret had said.

I typed back.

Who are you?

No response.

Instead, another message appeared.

Ask yourself why Sophia feels untouchable.

Then:

Ask Ethan why he's angry with you instead of her.

The screen went dark.

The sender disappeared again.

My stomach tightened.

Because suddenly I realized something.

Margaret wasn't the only person who thought I should stay quiet.

Back in the city, Ethan had already received a phone call from his mother.

And judging by the look on his face as he stood inside his office, he was furious.

Not at Sophia.

Not at himself.

At me.

Because in his mind, I had turned a private affair into a family problem.

And for the first time since our marriage began, Ethan Hayes was starting to see me as the enemy.

The problem for him was that I was finally starting to see him the same way.

I should have stayed somewhere else.

That thought crossed my mind the second I walked back into the penthouse.

The house felt different now.

Not because anything had changed.

Because I had.

Every room carried a memory that suddenly felt fake.

The kitchen where Ethan used to kiss my forehead before work.

The dining room where I hosted endless business dinners.

The living room where his family praised me for being "the perfect wife."

Now all I could see were lies.

My phone buzzed.

I glanced down.

A text from Ethan.

We need to talk tonight.

I laughed.

Then ignored it.

Another arrived.

Mom called me.

A third.

You had no right to involve her.

That one actually made me stop walking.

No right?

I stared at the message.

Then typed back.

Your mistress had no right to sleep with my husband. Yet here we are.

His reply came instantly.

Stop being childish.

I looked at the screen for several seconds.

Then blocked his number.

For the first time in three years.

The silence afterward felt surprisingly good.

Around six o'clock, the doorbell rang.

I assumed it was Ethan.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

When I opened the door, Sophia Reed stood on the other side.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

She looked beautiful.

That was probably why she had gotten away with so much for so long.

Golden hair.

Perfect makeup.

Designer sunglasses.

The face of a woman who expected the world to forgive her because she looked good while destroying it.

She smiled.

"I was hoping you'd answer."

I stared at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Talking."

"No."

I started closing the door.

She put her hand against it.

"Don't be rude."

The audacity almost impressed me.

Almost.

I looked at her hand.

Then at her.

"Remove your hand."

Sophia smiled wider.

"I think we should clear the air."

"There is no air to clear."

"There is from my perspective."

I laughed.

"That's unfortunate."

She tilted her head.

"Ethan said you're dramatic."

Something inside me went cold.

Very cold.

"He talks about me with you?"

Her smile answered before she did.

"More than you think."

I should have slammed the door.

I should have called security.

Instead, I stepped aside.

Because suddenly I wanted to hear exactly how much damage they had done.

Sophia walked inside.

The confidence in her movements made my skin crawl.

She looked around the penthouse.

"Beautiful place."

I folded my arms.

"Get to the point."

She sat on the couch.

My couch.

Like she belonged there.

"I love him."

I laughed immediately.

The sound surprised both of us.

Sophia frowned.

"What's funny?"

"You."

She blinked.

"I just told you I love Ethan."

"And I just remembered you're sleeping with a married man."

The smile disappeared from her face.

Interesting.

Apparently she didn't enjoy hearing the truth.

Sophia crossed her legs.

"You don't understand what Ethan and I have."

I sat opposite her.

"No. Explain it."

"We were together first."

There it was.

The classic excuse.

The one mistresses always seemed to think was magical.

Sophia leaned forward.

"He never stopped loving me."

The words stung.

Not because I hadn't heard them before.

Because she looked proud saying them.

Like hurting me was an achievement.

I forced myself to stay calm.

"And?"

Her expression shifted.

Confusion.

She clearly expected tears.

A breakdown.

A scene.

Instead, I was just tired.

Sophia frowned.

"That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you want from me?"

Her voice sharpened.

"I want you to stop pretending this marriage means something."

I stared at her.

Then slowly smiled.

For the first time, Sophia looked uncomfortable.

"Interesting."

"What?"

"You came here expecting me to fight for him."

Her jaw tightened.

"I came here because you need to accept reality."

"No."

I shook my head.

"You came here because you're insecure."

The room went silent.

Sophia's expression hardened immediately.

Bullseye.

I continued.

"If Ethan loved you as much as you claim, he would've divorced me already."

Her face changed.

Just slightly.

Enough.

Because she knew I was right.

The silence lasted several seconds.

Then she laughed.

A forced sound.

"He's working on it."

I almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

"Did he tell you that?"

She didn't answer.

Again.

Enough.

My phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

I opened it immediately.

She's lying.

Then another.

Ask her why she came back after three years.

I stared at the message.

Then looked up at Sophia.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

"Why did you come back?"

She frowned.

"What?"

"You disappeared for years."

I leaned forward.

"Then suddenly reappeared."

Her expression tightened.

"That's none of your business."

There it was.

I smiled.

"It absolutely is."

Sophia stood.

"Ethan loves me."

"Then why are you here instead of with him?"

The question hit harder than I expected.

Because she immediately became angry.

Not sad.

Not confident.

Angry.

"I don't need to justify myself to you."

"No."

I nodded.

"You don't."

The door opened before either of us could continue.

Ethan walked inside.

His eyes immediately landed on Sophia.

Then me.

Then Sophia again.

His face darkened.

"What are you doing here?"

Sophia looked genuinely surprised.

"You knew I was coming."

Ethan's expression changed.

Not guilt.

Panic.

Wrong answer.

Very wrong answer.

I stared at him.

"You invited her?"

"No."

The response came too quickly.

Sophia laughed.

"You literally texted me—"

"Stop."

His voice cracked through the room.

Sophia froze.

So did I.

Because for the first time since this started, Ethan looked angry with her.

Not protective.

Not affectionate.

Angry.

Sophia frowned.

"What is wrong with you?"

Ethan rubbed his forehead.

"What is wrong with me?"

His eyes landed on me.

Then on the pregnancy report sitting on the dining table.

My stomach dropped.

I had forgotten it was there.

So had he.

Apparently until now.

Ethan stared at it.

Then slowly walked closer.

"What is this?"

I moved immediately.

Too late.

He picked it up.

The room became silent.

Painfully silent.

Sophia frowned.

"What is it?"

Ethan wasn't listening.

His eyes moved across the page.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Then he looked at me.

His face had gone completely white.

"You're pregnant."

Not a question.

A fact.

I closed my eyes briefly.

Damn it.

Sophia looked between us.

Then understanding hit.

"Oh my God."

Her voice came out sharp.

"No."

Ethan looked at me.

"Eight weeks?"

I didn't answer.

He stepped closer.

"Olivia."

Still nothing.

Then he smiled.

Actually smiled.

The happiest smile I had seen from him in months.

And somehow that made everything worse.

Because now he cared.

Now.

After the livestream.

After the lies.

After the humiliation.

Now.

"We're having a baby."

I laughed.

The sound wasn't kind.

His smile disappeared.

"Olivia."

"No."

I stepped backward.

"Don't."

His expression shifted.

"What?"

"Don't suddenly start acting like a husband."

Sophia's face was becoming increasingly ugly.

"Ethan."

He ignored her.

His eyes stayed locked on me.

"We can figure this out."

I stared at him.

Then at Sophia.

Then back at him.

"You are standing between your wife and your mistress while talking about fixing things."

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Good.

Because there was nothing he could possibly say.

Sophia finally exploded.

"Are you serious right now?"

Ethan turned toward her.

"Sophia."

"No."

She pointed at me.

"You're choosing her because she's pregnant?"

The room went silent.

Dangerously silent.

I looked at Ethan.

Waiting.

Because suddenly I wanted to know.

Not for the marriage.

That was already dead.

For the truth.

Ethan looked between us.

His hesitation lasted less than two seconds.

But it was enough.

Sophia saw it too.

Her face twisted with rage.

"Unbelievable."

She grabbed her purse.

Then looked directly at me.

The hatred in her eyes was startling.

Raw.

Pure.

Personal.

And for the first time, I felt genuinely uneasy.

Because that wasn't jealousy.

That was something darker.

Something dangerous.

Sophia walked toward the door.

Then stopped beside me.

Her voice dropped low enough that Ethan couldn't hear.

Only me.

Only us.

"You think this baby saved you?"

A chill ran through me.

Before I could answer, she smiled.

A terrible smile.

Then whispered,

"We'll see."

She walked out.

The door slammed behind her.

The room fell silent.

Ethan looked exhausted.

I looked at the closed door.

And for the first time since the livestream, genuine fear settled into my stomach.

Because the way Sophia had looked at me just now wasn't the look of a woman who had lost.

It was the look of a woman planning her next move.

And suddenly, without knowing why, I wrapped one protective hand over my stomach.

As if my baby already knew danger was coming.