A sudden wave of nausea gripped her stomach. She froze, pressing a hand to her abdomen. "Not now," she whispered. "Not now..."
Lucas appeared in the doorway without a knock, as always, his dark eyes narrowing at her posture. "You look pale," he observed, tilting his head. "Did the gala take a toll on you?"
Evelyn forced a smile, shaky and unconvincing. "I-I'm fine. Just tired."
He approached, crossing the room with the silent confidence that made her chest tighten. "You don't look fine," he said softly, but his tone carried the weight of authority rather than concern. "Show me."
Her stomach knotted. She hesitated, then gave in, leaning back slightly. Lucas's gaze swept over her carefully, assessing every detail. Then he paused. "You're... not eating properly. You're not sleeping properly. And you've been... unwell."
Evelyn's throat tightened. She had tried to hide it, tried to ignore the symptoms, but there was no escaping his scrutiny. "I just... I have a lot on my mind," she whispered.
Lucas tilted his head, his expression unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, his lips curved. "Perhaps I underestimated the effects of this arrangement on you."
Evelyn frowned. "Effects? You mean... the contract?"
"Partly," he admitted. "But mostly you. You're stronger than most, but even the strong show cracks eventually."
Her heart pounded. Was he... impressed? Concerned? Or calculating something else entirely? She didn't know, and the uncertainty made her nervous.
A few days passed. Evelyn tried to keep herself composed, attending meetings, learning the rules of her new life, and trying to navigate Lucas's unpredictable moods. But the nausea persisted, subtle at first, then more persistent. She brushed it off as stress after all, who could blame her? She was married to the most powerful man in the city, a man who had once accused her of betrayal and now seemed determined to control every aspect of her life.
It wasn't until she fainted in the kitchen while reaching for a glass of water that the truth began to sink in. Lucas caught her before she hit the ground, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.
"Evelyn!" His voice was sharp, a mixture of alarm and something else she couldn't name. "Are you "
She shook her head weakly, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I... I'm fine. Just... dizzy."
Lucas's eyes narrowed. "Dizzy? That's not the usual reaction to fatigue." He guided her to the couch, sitting beside her with unusual tenderness. "How long has this been happening?"
"I... I don't know," she admitted, feeling a wave of panic. "A few days, maybe."
He said nothing for a moment, his gaze fixed on her. Then, quietly, he said, "You're hiding something."
Evelyn's breath caught. How could he know? She had tried to conceal it, to ignore the symptoms, to pretend that nothing was happening. But Lucas, as always, saw more than he should.
"I... I think... I might be... pregnant," she confessed finally, her voice barely audible.
Lucas's expression flickered, unreadable at first. Then his jaw tightened, his eyes darkened, and he leaned back, processing the information. "Pregnant," he repeated, almost to himself. "And you didn't tell me sooner?"
"I didn't know for sure," she said quickly. "I... I wanted to wait."
Lucas rose suddenly, pacing the room with a tension that made her chest ache. "Do you understand what this means?" His voice was low, dangerous, filled with a mix of emotion she had never heard before. "This changes everything."
Evelyn's heart pounded. "It... it doesn't change who I am. I'm still the same person."
He stopped pacing, turning to face her. His gaze was intense, almost piercing. "It changes everything," he repeated. "Because now, everything you do... every decision, every step, every move you make... affects more than just you. It affects me. Our child. The family. And the debts. Everything."
Evelyn swallowed hard, feeling the weight of reality pressing down on her. "I... I understand. But I need time."
Lucas's expression softened slightly, just enough for her to notice. "Time," he repeated, almost to himself. "I can give you time. But don't think for a second that I won't hold you accountable."
The tension in the room was palpable. Evelyn realised something then: Lucas's cold cruelty wasn't diminishing if anything, it had sharpened, honed by obsession, by pride, by the knowledge that she carried his child. Every glance, every word, every action from now on would be scrutinized, measured, and judged.
And yet, beneath the fear, beneath the pressure, something else stirred. A strange, forbidden hope. Maybe, just maybe, this child could be a bridge an unspoken connection between them that neither pride nor past betrayal could sever.
Cliffhanger: Later that night, Evelyn found a note slipped under her bedroom door:
"Be careful. He is watching you more closely than ever... and not just for your mistakes