I knew what I looked like to them. A bitter housewife lounging around at home, surviving on the allowance William Stephens deigned to give her.

I didn't argue. Didn't make a scene. I just looked at him, steady and silent.

"No need to call security." I turned, nudging the spilled cup of milk aside with my foot. "William, the room is yours. But remember this: what you took from me today, you'll beg me to give back someday. And when that day comes, I won't want it anymore."

"Seraphina, what kind of nonsense are you spouting now?" William stepped forward, reaching for my wrist. "Stop embarrassing yourself and come home with me. Don't force me to lose my temper in front of strangers."

I stepped back, out of his reach.

"Don't touch me. You disgust me."

His hand froze in midair. Something flickered in his eyes, a flash of shock, quickly swallowed by anger.

"Fine, Seraphina. You've got nerve. Walk out that door today, and I'll cancel every single supplementary credit card under your name. Let's see how long a pregnant woman with a belly that big survives without the Stephens family behind her."

Behind him, Alma Harding's lips curled into a smug little smile.

I didn't spare either of them another glance. I pulled my coat tight around myself, pushed open the door, and stepped into the cold draft of the corridor.

I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in five years.

It rang once. Just once.

A low, rough voice answered on the other end, tight with restraint.

"Quinn. Come get me," I said quietly.

"Miss Ashford." His voice caught, almost imperceptibly. "You're finally letting me bring you home."

The wind outside the hospital was brutal.

A black Maybach glided to a stop in front of me without a sound.

The door opened, and a tall man in a long black coat stepped out, crossing the distance between us in quick strides.

His features were sharp, severe. A faint scar traced the corner of his right eye, a souvenir from the time he'd thrown himself between me and danger.

Quinn Harding.

An orphan the Ashford family had taken in. He'd grown up at my side since we were children.

The outside world believed I was the Ashfords' only daughter. They had no idea that while my father was still alive, he'd personally shaped Quinn into the family's sharpest blade.

He was my sworn brother in name. In truth, he was my most loyal protector.

Five years ago, when I'd insisted on leaving home for William, Quinn had knelt in the rain all night. All it earned him was a single sentence from me: Don't follow me.

Now here he was. Just like back then. At my side the moment I called.

"Miss Ashford, how did you get this thin?" He strode forward and shrugged off his coat, still warm from his body, draping it over my shoulders.

His gaze dropped to my swollen belly, then lifted to my pale face. The look in his eyes turned cold enough to kill.

"Quinn, I'm fine." I sank into the back seat, letting my head fall against the leather. "Take me back to the estate."

The car pulled smoothly away from the hospital.

The cabin was quiet. Then Quinn's phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and let out a soft, humorless laugh.

"Stephens canceled your credit cards. He also froze that savings account you'd been using as a cover identity." Quinn's eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. "He even put the word out to every hotel in Crestfield: anyone who takes you in is making an enemy of the Stephens Group."

I tugged at the corner of my mouth.

William Stephens was nothing if not controlling.

He thought cutting off my money would send me crawling back to the mansion the way I had for the past five years, ready to apologize, maybe even pour tea for Alma Harding like a servant.

"He's always believed those few thousand dollars a month in living expenses were some kind of gift he was graciously bestowing on me."

I closed my eyes. "Let him."

"Miss Ashford, say the word." Quinn's voice held no warmth at all. "The Stephens Group will be gone from Crestfield by tonight."

"No. That would be letting him off too easy." I opened my eyes, my gaze ice-cold. "Stephens Group is going public next month on the back of my neural degeneration patent. I want him standing at the very top before he watches everything he has shatter to pieces."

Over the next few days, I stayed at the Ashford family's private estate on the outskirts of the city, resting for the baby's sake.

William didn't come looking for me.

He'd decided that a pregnant woman with no money couldn't hold out for long.

Instead, he started interacting with Alma on social media constantly. Paparazzi even caught him taking her to try on jewelry.

Then, on the third day, Director Jonathan Lambert called Quinn, his voice panicked.

"Mr. Harding, we have a problem! Mr. Stephens got his hands on one of Director Ashford's prenatal reports from somewhere and posted it online. He's claiming the baby has severe genetic defects. That it's deformed!"

I shot to my feet. The room tilted.

"Genetic defects? That's impossible!"

My prenatal records had been handled exclusively through Quinn. The baby was perfectly healthy.

Quinn pulled up his tablet immediately.

The top trending story read: Stephens Group CEO in Tearful Confession: Socialite Wife Concealed Deformed Fetus to Secure Family Fortune.

In the video, William faced the camera looking haggard, Alma sniffling beside him.

William's voice was heavy with grief. "I've been looking forward to this child's birth more than anything. But I never imagined that my wife, Seraphina Ashford, would bribe doctors to conceal severe genetic defects, all to protect her position in the Stephens family. Miss Harding only tried to convince her to face reality, and Seraphina pushed her, causing her old injuries to flare up. As a father, I cannot allow a life destined for suffering to be brought into this world as a bargaining chip."

Alma let her tears fall right on cue. "Seraphina, please, just stop. The baby is innocent. You can't ruin a child's entire life for wealth and status."

The comments section exploded. The entire internet was calling me a heartless, money-grubbing monster who'd stop at nothing.

I clenched my fists so tight my nails bit deep into my palms.

William. He was willing to weaponize his own flesh and blood just to rehabilitate Alma's image. Just to smoke me out.

"Miss Ashford." Quinn steadied me as I nearly lost my footing, his eyes dark. "The report was forged. Alma hired someone to fabricate it. William wanted to protect Stephens Group's reputation ahead of the IPO, so he not only believed it, he seized the opportunity to pin everything on you."

"Good." I laughed, though there was nothing funny about it. My hand rested on my belly. "If they want to back me into a corner, then let's give them exactly what they're asking for. Quinn, make the arrangements. Tomorrow is the Stephens Group IPO celebration gala. I'm going to deliver them a gift personally."

The online firestorm spread faster than I'd anticipated.

I'd barely sat down on the sofa when Linda Stephens called.

I hit speakerphone. Her shrill, venomous voice flooded the living room instantly.

"Seraphina Ashford, you jinx! You have the nerve to hide? The Stephens family line has been passed down for three generations with a single heir each time. We will NOT tolerate this kind of cursed abomination! You get yourself to a hospital right now and get rid of that bastard, then get out of this family with nothing! Alma has already moved into our home. She's the one who can truly help William. She's the wife he deserves!"

I listened in silence until she finished her tirade, then replied, my voice flat and cold. "You want me to leave with nothing? Tell William to come talk to me himself."

I hung up.

At ten that night, William actually showed up at the estate.

He had no idea it was Ashford property. He assumed I'd rented some upscale bed-and-breakfast with whatever savings I had left.

He stood in the living room, looking at me in my loose silk robe, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

There was anger in his expression, and a trace of concern he probably hadn't even noticed himself. But more than anything, there was the unmistakable air of a man bestowing charity from on high.

"Seraphina, are you done throwing your tantrum?" William sighed, softening his tone in a deliberate display of what he considered tenderness. "I've already had everything online taken down. I know you're upset, but Alma saved my life. Her reputation is in ruins. I can't just stand by and do nothing."

He stepped forward and reached for my hand. I pulled away without a word.

Something dark flickered through his eyes, but he pressed on. "Stephens Group goes public next week. There can't be any scandals right now. All you have to do is swallow your pride and sign over that neuro-degenerative therapy patent to Alma, free of charge. She enters the company as a technical shareholder, restores her reputation, and in return, I guarantee the position of Mrs. Stephens will always be yours."

I stared at the man standing in front of me and almost laughed.

"So you knew the prenatal report was fake. You went along with it anyway, helped her drag my name through the mud, used my child as a bargaining chip, all to force me to hand over the patent and pave the way for your so-called savior?"

William's brow furrowed, irritation creeping into his voice. "Why do you have to twist everything? That patent is wasted sitting in your hands. What's wrong with giving it to Alma? Didn't I just make you that chicken soup you love the other day? Cooked it myself to help with the pregnancy? Seraphina, you matter to me. But I owe Alma my life, and I have to repay that debt. Can you just be reasonable for once?"

"Chicken soup?"

A cold laugh escaped me. He had made that soup before the argument at the hospital. At the time, I'd actually believed he was finally learning to care. I drank most of the pot.

Now the memory made my stomach turn.

"William, you owe her your life. Why should my blood and sweat be the currency you pay it back with?" I pointed at the door. "The patent stays with me. Tomorrow, I'll see you at the courthouse."

"Seraphina!" William's composure shattered completely. "Don't push your luck! Without the Stephens family, you can't even afford to raise that child! I'm giving you one night to think it over. Tomorrow at the Stephens Group IPO gala, I expect you to bring the patent authorization and apologize to Alma in person. Otherwise, you will never see me again."

He slammed the door on his way out.

Quinn emerged from the shadows, his gaze cutting like a blade in the direction William had gone.

"Should I break his leg, Miss Ashford?"

"Not yet." I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and watched William's car disappear into the night. "Quinn, did you finish looking into how Alma supposedly saved him?"

Quinn handed me a file, the faintest trace of a cold smile at the corner of his mouth. "It's all here. The car accident five years ago was staged. Alma hired people to arrange the whole thing. She barely got a scratch, then faked a disability to guilt-trip William for half a decade."

I took the file and drew a long breath.

William, the debt you're so proud of repaying is nothing but a joke from start to finish.

Tomorrow, I'll make you watch your faith crumble with your own eyes.

The following evening. The InterContinental Hotel, the most luxurious venue in Crestfield.

Stephens Group's IPO gala was in full swing.

The ballroom was packed with the city's elite. William stood on stage in a bespoke suit, radiating confidence, every inch the conquering king.

Alma stood beside him in a stunning evening gown, positioned like the lady of the house, basking in a chorus of flattery.

"Thank you all for joining us at the Stephens Group celebration." William raised his glass with a polished smile. "Tonight, I also have an important announcement. Stephens Group will be acquiring a revolutionary medical patent, and the holder of that patent is none other than Miss Alma Harding, standing right here beside me. Going forward, she will serve as Chief Technology Officer of Stephens Medical Technologies."