Chapter 8 Public Scandal

I won't see her again.

Not in the hospital.

Not after we return to the apartment.

His security team makes sure of it.

He stays.

Not for a night.

Not for a visit.

He moved in.

At first, it was quiet.

Awkward.

He takes the guest room.

Hecooked sometimes.

He worked in silence, laptop open beside the couch, glancing at me every so often like he was trying to memorize something he forgot.

I pretend not to notice.

I tried to rest.

The doctor's orders were strict-no stress, no stairs, no fighting.

And yet, every time he leaves the room, I'm fighting the ache in my chest.

One night, he made soup.

It's slightly burned, but I ate it anyway.

He watched me eat, smiling a little.

"You 've always hated soup," he said.

"I still do," I murmured.

"But I eat only yours."

You laughed softly.

We're not healed, but we're less broken.

I read the news out loud that night.

Marcian is being investigated for corporate fraud.

His allies are jumping ship.

It's my father's doing, he said.

"He doesn't trust anyone near the throne."

"Do you?"

He hesitated.

"I trust you."

I believe you this time.

The next day, the press starts spinning new stories.

One headline reads: The Real Billionaire Bride-Eliana or Eliora?

Another: Twin Deception or Dangerous Game?

He slammed the laptop shut.

"I'll sue every outlet."

"It won't help."i muttered

"They're calling you a liar."

"I was one."

"They don't get to define you."he said

But they are.

They always will.

Vanessa stops by with prenatal vitamins and chocolate muffins.

She didn't mention the news.

Instead, she brings me baby clothes-soft yellows and greens.

"Neutral," she says with a wink. "Are we still keeping the gender a surprise?"

I nod.

You smile from the doorway.

We're almost a family.

Then Adrian's phone rings.

He stepped out to answer it.

I caught a name on the screen.

"Mariana".....

I waited.

He returned twenty minutes later, face blank.

I asked who it was.

He hesitated.

"Someone I used to know."

"Still know?"

"No. Not anymore."

But something changed.He was quieter that night.He stayed in his room.

I wondered if I should worry.

But I'm too tired to chase ghosts.

A week later, he woke me before sunrise.

"Come with me."

"To where?"

"You'll see."

We drove in silence.The city disappeared behind us.We stopped at a gated property.

Lush trees. A private lake.

He helped me out of the car.

"This was my mother's," he said.

"She used to paint here."

"It's beautiful."

"I want you to have it."

I blinked.

"What?!"

"For you. For the baby. It's safe, secluded. No press. No drama."

"But...."

"I'm not giving you a house," he interrupted. "I'm giving you peace."

No one's ever given me that.

We walked by the water.

He held my hand.

He kissed me like he meant it.

I let him.

Then he said softly, "I don't want to lose you again."

"You never really had me."i whispered

"Then let me earn it."

I didn't answer.

But he squeezes his hand tighter.

At the lake house, I started painting.

Walls first.

Then canvases.

Something about the silence feels like breathing again.

He worked nearby, but he didn't bother much

We built a rhythm.We ate dinner together.

He read to the baby and asked if I'm scared.

I lied and said no.

The truth is, I don't know how to be a mother.I only know how to survive.

Then Vanessa calls.

The court date has moved up.

"Eliora filed a motion."

She's demanding a DNA test before birth.

I felt the air leave my lungs.

"What does she think she'll prove?"

"That the child isn't yours,She's grasping at straws."

But I see it in his eyes.

The doubt.

Not in me-but in what the court would believe.

He called his lawyer.

He told him it was dangerous to refuse.

Public refusal will make it seem like we have something to hide.

But performing a fetal paternity test has risks.

To me. To the baby.

I said no.

" We'll fight it."he looked at me

Then the letter arrives.

From Eliora.Delivered by hand.

Inside is a single sentence:

"Let me raise the heir, or I will burn everything."

He showed it to his father.He called it desperation and war

I called it predictable.Eliora has always known how to destroy things.

The next morning, he went to court.

Alone.

I wasn't strong enough yet so I stayed home and watched the updates from the couch.

A leak shows up online.

Photos.

From the wedding.

Side-by-sides of me and Eliora.

Zoomed in.

Analyzed.

One blog headline screams: Which twin is truly Mrs. Montclair?

The comments are vicious.

Fake.

Gold digger.

Scammer.

I shut off the screen.

Adrian returned that evening looking pale.Quiet.

I knew what happened before he could say it.

"She brought her own DNA proof."

I covered my mouth.

"She stole a brush from our old apartment."

"And?"

"She claims the baby isn't mine."

"She's lying."

"I know."

"But now the court's involved."

"She wants temporary guardianship once the baby is born."

I couldn't breathe.

"Why would they even consider it?"

"Because the public is turning."Because money speaks.

Because headlines sway judges.

"She can't win," I whisper.But even I don't believe it.

He got down on one knee in front of me.

Not with a ring.

But with a plea.

"Marry me again."

"We're already married."

"No. That was a contract. This is real."

He stared at me.

My heart is pounding fast.

"Is this about love or power?"

"Both."he answered

He kissed my stomach.

Then he said, "Let's give our child a name worth carrying."

You looked at me like I was the only thing he had ever been sure of.

I wanted to say yes.

But my lips tremble.

I said, "What if she ruins us?"

He answers, "Then we go down together. But we don't let her raise our child."

I cried for the first time in days.

We planned the second wedding in secret.

Only a few guests.

No press.

Vanessa. father. His mother. A priest.

It's quiet. Sacred.

He slid the ring on my finger.And whispered, "This time, I choose you."

I believe you.

We kissed.

We returned to the lake house.We're stronger now.

But Eliora isn't gone.She sends one last gift.

A tiny, blood-red onesie.

With a card:

"Every crown has a cost. You'll pay yours in blood."

That night, I felt the pain again,and this time, it didn't stop.