Chapter 3

Chloe's POV

The next morning, wearing a low-profile cap and a face mask, I slipped into a private clinic in downtown Manhattan.

It was an ultra-exclusive clinic known for its strict NDA policies. I had booked an appointment with their top OB-GYN.

After a series of agonizing tests, I sat in the doctor's office, my hands sweating as I gripped each other.

The doctor pushed up his glasses, looking at the ultrasound sheet with a heavy expression. "Miss Sterling, congratulations. You are indeed pregnant. About five weeks along."

My heart skipped a beat.

An overwhelming rush of joy mixed with a terrifying wave of panic crashed over me.

I really had a baby.

Ethan's and my baby.

"But..." The doctor's voice turned grave. "Your physical condition is extremely fragile. You suffered severe trauma in the past, and your uterine wall is as thin as paper. Honestly, it's a miracle you even conceived."

My face drained of color. The memory of being thrown into a freezing lake in upstate New York by my abusive father when I was ten flashed in my mind. I had almost died back then, and my body had never fully recovered.

"Doctor, what does that mean?"

"It means," the doctor sighed, "if you want to keep this baby, you have to be bedridden. Any physical shock or stress will trigger a massive, life-threatening hemorrhage."

When I walked out of the clinic, the bright Manhattan sun blinded me.

I clutched the crumpled ultrasound sheet in my pocket like it was my actual lifeline.

This was my only chance in this lifetime to be a mother.

But would Ethan ever want this child?

Just yesterday, he had coldly reminded me that he was marrying Leilah. He would never tolerate an "accident."

I sat on a park bench near the clinic for two solid hours. My mind replayed all the sweet things Ethan had done for me over the past three years.

He had canceled billion-dollar board meetings just to stay up all night holding a warm compress over my stomach when I had bad cramps. He had ruthlessly ruined a socialite who mocked my poor background, shielding me behind his back.

Maybe... maybe he did care about me, even just a little?

If he knew I was pregnant, if he knew this was my only chance to have a child, would his heart soften? Would he call off the marriage with Leilah for our baby?

Even if there was only a one-in-a-million chance, I had to try.

I took a deep breath, hailed a cab, and went straight to the Vance Corporation headquarters.

The Vance tower pierced the New York clouds. As Ethan's "personal secretary" (my official title to the public), I had executive elevator access directly to the penthouse office.

The top floor was quiet. The assistants were busy at their desks outside.

I walked up to the heavy mahogany door of the CEO's office. Just as I raised my hand to knock, I heard laughing from inside. The door wasn't fully shut; a tiny crack was left open.

It was the voice of Julian Cole, Ethan's wealthy best friend.

"So, Ethan, the invites are out. You're really marrying Leilah? What about your little kitten at home? Chloe has been with you for three years. She's so sweet and obedient. Are you really just going to throw her away?"

My hand froze in midair. My breathing stopped.

From inside the room, Ethan's voice drifted out, utterly careless.

"Why wouldn't I? She's just a toy."

His voice was so chillingly cold, a complete contrast to the passionate man who had held me in his bed last night.

Julian chuckled. "A toy? You've spoiled her rotten for three years, completely ignoring Leilah's feelings. Everyone in our circle knows you'd jump in front of a bullet for Chloe."

"It was all a game," Ethan sneered, tossing his gold pen onto the desk with a sharp clack.

"You know how brutal the power struggle within the Vance family has been these past three years. My grandfather was plotting against me, and my uncles were waiting for me to fail. The attacks were coming from everywhere. Leilah just returned to the country; I couldn't let her become a target."

Ethan paused, his voice utterly calculated.

"Chloe had no family, no backing. She was easy to control with just a little cash. By pushing her into the spotlight and acting like I loved her, all the threats and assassination attempts aimed at me landed on her instead."

"Now, I have absolute control over the company. The family can't touch me anymore, and Leilah is perfectly safe. It's time to sweep the trash out."

Outside the door.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, tears instantly streaming down my face.

A target.

A human shield.

The three years of absolute devotion, the car crashes he "shielded" me from, the poison he saved me from... none of it was because he loved me.

It was because those attacks were meant for him, and he had used me as a meat shield to keep Leilah safe!

The man I thought was my savior was actually my executioner.

A violent wave of nausea hit me. I couldn't listen to another word. I turned around, desperate to run away from this suffocating place.

But the moment I turned, I slammed right into someone.

The overpowering scent of Chanel No. 5 hit my nose.

I looked up, meeting a pair of eyes filled with smug satisfaction and disgust.

Leilah Rose stood there in a Chanel haute couture suit, holding a limited-edition Hermès bag.

"Oh, look who it is. Miss Sterling," Leilah sneered, looking at my pale face. "Eavesdropping on the boss? That's a fireable offense, sweetie."

Leilah didn't bother to lower her voice. The men inside heard her instantly.

The office door was thrown open.

Ethan's towering figure appeared. The moment his cold eyes landed on my shaking body, the casualness in his expression turned into a sheet of solid ice.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly, without a single shred of warmth.