Chapter 4

Before the scheduled procedure, the clinic required a final ultrasound.

The technician turned the monitor toward me, pointing out the baby's tiny hands and feet.

"He's completely healthy," the doctor said gently. "Are you absolutely certain you want to terminate?"

"At thirty-two weeks, an induction carries severe risks to your body. And... at this stage, the fetus can feel pain."

I reached out, my trembling fingertips touching the little outline on the screen.

It felt as though an invisible hand had gripped my heart and was crushing it slowly.

This was my flesh and blood.

A living, breathing human being inside me.

I closed my eyes, the agony tearing through the darkness behind my eyelids.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I... I need a moment to think."

The doctor nodded sympathetically and handed me some pamphlets on late-stage care.

Walking out of the clinic, a chill settled deep into my bones.

I looked up, only to freeze.

Julian stood by the hospital exit, dressed in a sharply tailored designer suit.

Imposing, aloof, radiating the aura of a man who controlled everything and everyone.

He marched over and gripped my wrist with bruising force.

"You've had your little tantrum for a week. That's enough."

Seeing my silence, he rubbed his temples in frustration, his tone dropping to a begrudging explanation:

"The will was never officially notarized. It holds no legal weight."

"Chloe has a congenital heart defect. I just wanted to give her something meaningful to ease her mind and wish her a long life."

Such a hollow, pathetic excuse.

It was so absurd that tears blurred my vision.

I forced a cracked voice through my throat: "To wish her good health, you couldn't buy her a good-luck charm? What about me, Julian? What do I get?"

He choked on his words, momentarily stunned. I ripped my wrist out of his grasp.

Seven years of swallowing humiliation and agony erupted like a shattered dam.

"The year we got married, I was hospitalized for a bleeding stomach ulcer! You ignored my calls, claiming you were stuck in late-night board meetings! But Chloe posted photos of you walking the runway front row with her in Paris!"

"On our third anniversary, you said you were away on a business trip! I saw on her Ins that you stood in line for three hours just to buy her a specific brand of iced boba!"

"Every single prenatal checkup, you were 'too busy,' but you always had time to take her to private art galas, buy her Birkins, and celebrate her birthday!"

"When I slipped and nearly bled to death from a miscarriage scare, you were holding her hand watching the fireworks at Disneyland! What am I to you, Julian? A goddamn dog?!"

Every single memory had once been a dagger driven into my chest.

Yet screaming them aloud, I realized the wound had already scarred over, sealing in years of rotting pain.

Julian's composure completely shattered. For the first time, genuine panic flickered across his dark eyes.

"You... you knew all of that?"

How laughable.

Even now, he genuinely believed he had played his double life so flawlessly.

I forced a smile, even as tears poured down my cheeks.

"Julian, I chose to stay quiet, but I was never blind."

"I played the fool because I kept lying to myself that the boy who once loved me would come back."

I dug my nails into my palms until I felt the skin break.

The smile on my face widened into something broken. I wiped the tears from my cheeks with rough, aggressive swipes.

"Right up until I saw that will, I could still lie to myself. But now? I can't even pretend anymore."

A wave of guilt passed over his features.

The exact look of remorse I had spent seven years praying to see.

Too little. Too late.

I looked him dead in the eye, enunciating every word:

"I am keeping this baby."

"But he will have nothing to do with you, and nothing to do with the Sterlings."

With that, I walked right past him.

He reached out, his hand hovering in midair, desperate to grab my shoulder.

Yet he didn't dare touch me.

After deciding to keep the child, I returned to my apartment and focused entirely on resting.

A week later, David called with bad news. Julian had flatly refused to sign the divorce papers.

"Mrs. Sterling, if you want this marriage dissolved, your only option is taking him to court."

"His legal team made it clear: if you file a lawsuit, Mr. Sterling will use every resource at his disposal to take full custody of the child."

David sounded deeply troubled over the phone.

I placed a hand on my swollen belly and fell silent.

Because I knew Julian wasn't bluffing. He had the money, the power, and the ruthlessness to make it happen.

And I... aside from this unborn life and the hollow title of Mrs. Sterling... had nothing.

David warned me that if Julian chose to drag out the litigation, the case could stall in family court for years.

I took a deep, steadying breath.

"I won't let my son be born under that kind of shadow."

"I will make him sign."