Chapter 7

Eleanor POV:

The fever hit me hard. I stumbled home, the rain-soaked clothes clinging to my skin, chills wracking my body. My head pounded, my limbs ached, and every breath felt like a struggle. I collapsed onto my bed, the wooden bird still clutched in my hand, too weak to even pull off my shoes. The room spun, and the world blurred into a painful haze. I was alone. Utterly, completely alone.

A insistent ringing pulled me from the depths of a feverish dream. The doorbell. Who could it be? I dragged myself to the door, my body protesting with every painful movement. The world was a kaleidoscope of colors and shadows. I fumbled with the lock, pulling the door open just enough to see two blurry figures standing there.

"Eleanor?" a woman's voice, soft and hesitant, asked. "It's Eleni. Your mother."

My mother. The word was a foreign sound, a distant concept. Then another wave of dizziness hit, and the world went black.

I woke to unfamiliar hands on my forehead, a cool cloth against my burning skin. I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of hushed voices, the clinking of glasses. There was a warmth surrounding me, a sense of care I hadn't felt in years, a comfort I hadn't realized I craved. It was strange, distant, yet undeniably there.

When I finally opened my eyes, the room was empty. A pang of disappointment, sharp and unexpected, pierced through me. Had it been a dream? Had they left?

Just then, the door opened, and Eleni Frye, my biological mother, walked in, a bowl of steaming soup in her hands. Her eyes, filled with a gentle concern, met mine. "Eleanor, you're awake! How are you feeling, darling?"

Before I could answer, my phone, lying on the bedside table, buzzed insistently. I picked it up, my head still fuzzy. It was Marco. His voice was frantic.

"Eleanor! You need to hear this! Blake... he's gone crazy! He attacked the old warehouse, our main distribution hub! He took down half the security team! And... and he has Ethan." Ethan, my loyal head of security, my right hand. My friend.

My fever-induced haze evaporated instantly. My eyes narrowed, a cold fury replacing the pain. "Where?" I demanded, my voice sharp, clear.

"The old abandoned pier, by the docks," Marco stammered. "He's lost it, Eleanor. He thinks you... he thinks you stole Hayleigh's baby. He's saying you caused her miscarriage. It's a lie, I know, but he's not listening to anyone."

My mother, her face pale, watched me with growing concern. "Eleanor, what's wrong?"

"Blake," I said, my voice dangerously low. "He's gone too far." I threw off the covers, ignoring the throbbing in my head, the weakness in my limbs. "I have to go."

"Eleanor, you're still ill!" my mother protested, rushing to my side. "Let your father handle this. He has security."

"No," I said, pulling away. "This is my fight. My people."

I drove like a maniac, ignoring my mother's pleas and my father's attempts to send a security detail. The abandoned pier loomed in the distance, a dark silhouette against the stormy sky. When I arrived, the scene was chaotic. Blake's men, armed and aggressive, guarded the perimeter. In the center, tied to a rusted metal beam, was Ethan, his face bruised and bloody. Blake stood over him, a wild, dangerous glint in his eyes, Hayleigh whimpering dramatically by his side.

"Eleanor," Blake snarled, his eyes blazing when he saw me. "You finally decided to show up. Come to face what you've done? Hayleigh lost our baby because of you! You pushed her, you attacked her, you're a monster!"

My heart ached, a deep, hollow feeling. This was it. The ultimate betrayal. My own pain, my own lost baby, twisted into his weapon against me. I met his furious gaze, my face a mask of calm. "I am sorry for your loss, Blake," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I truly am. No one deserves that pain." The words felt like ash in my mouth. I knew what it was like. Too well. "But I did not cause Hayleigh's miscarriage. And I certainly didn't steal her baby, because she was never pregnant to begin with."

Hayleigh shrieked. "Liar! You always lie! You're just jealous! You just want to hurt me!"

"She's telling the truth, Blake!" Ethan croaked, his voice barely audible. "Eleanor never laid a hand on her! And Hayleigh... she faked the whole thing! Eleanor was the one who couldn't have children! She lost her only chance in that car accident years ago, the one you never even knew about! She went through hell, Blake, because of you!"

The words hung in the air, a devastating truth. Blake froze, his face draining of color. Hayleigh's eyes widened in panic.

"He's lying!" Hayleigh screamed, turning to Blake. "He's always hated me! He wants you to hurt me! He wants revenge for Eleanor!" She started to cry, her body shaking dramatically. "Kill him, Blake! Make him pay for what he's done to us!"

Blake looked at Ethan, then at Hayleigh, then back at me. His face was a contorted mask of confusion and rage. "Is that true, Ethan?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Did Eleanor... can she really not have children?"

Ethan, despite his injuries, managed a weak, defiant laugh. "Ask her, Blake. Ask her why she cried herself to sleep every night for months. Ask her why she pushed herself so hard building this empire. It was all for you, you blind idiot. Because she knew she couldn' t give you the one thing you always wanted."

Blake's eyes hardened, a terrifying coldness replacing the confusion. He looked at Ethan, then at me. "So, she's broken. And you, Ethan, you dared to make fun of my new family?" He nodded to one of his goons. "Teach him a lesson. A real one."