Chapter 2

He held me tight, his body a familiar, sickening cage.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of a concern that was utterly fake.

He looked into my eyes, and for a second, the mask slipped. I saw Liam, my Liam, the man who had proposed to me under a sky full of stars. Then the mask was back in place. He was Daniel, the grieving cousin.

"I'm not Liam," he whispered, as if reading my mind. "I know we look alike. It must be hard for you. But I promise, I'll take care of you. I'll protect you."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw at his face and reveal the monster underneath. But I said nothing. I just stared at him, my silence a wall he couldn't breach.

"Liam wouldn't have wanted this," he continued, his voice soft, persuasive. "He loved you. He would have wanted you and the baby to be safe."

The lie was so effortless, so smooth. He spoke of himself in the past tense with no hesitation. My stomach churned. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, a result of the pushing and shoving from the crowd. I winced, pressing a hand to my side.

"What is it? Are you hurt?" His concern sharpened, but it wasn't for me. It was for the baby. His precious heir.

Before I could answer, a delicate voice cut through the air.

"Daniel? What's happening?"

A woman glided towards us. She was beautiful in a fragile, curated way, the kind of woman who looked like she was made of glass. A social media influencer. Chloe.

She swayed on her feet, a hand pressed to her forehead. "Oh, the crowd... it's too much. I feel so faint."

Instantly, Liam's attention shifted. He let go of me as if I were a hot coal, his focus entirely on her. My pain, my distress, was forgotten.

"Chloe, are you okay?" He rushed to her side, catching her as she sagged dramatically into his arms. "You shouldn't be here. It's too stressful for you."

He cradled her with an exaggerated tenderness that made my blood run cold. This was the woman he had thrown his life away for. This was the terminally ill patient. She looked perfectly healthy to me, her skin glowing, her eyes bright with triumph.

"I just wanted to be here for you," she murmured, her voice weak but her eyes sharp as they flickered over to me. "It's all so tragic."

"You need to rest," Liam insisted, his voice laced with a frantic worry that he never once showed me. He started to lead her away, then paused, looking back at me as an afterthought.

"Go home and rest, Ava," he said, his tone dismissive. "I'll handle things here. Don't cause any more trouble."

In his arms, Chloe turned her head slightly. She gave me a small, smug smile, a silent declaration of victory. I just looked at her, my face a blank canvas. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

I watched them walk away, the perfect couple united in their deception. The pain in my side flared again, a sharp, insistent warning. I ignored the Vances' worried glances and the whispers of the crowd. I turned and walked out of the memorial hall, alone.

The city lights blurred as I hailed a cab, giving the driver the address of my doctor's office. I had to know if the baby was okay. I had to protect the one thing that was truly mine.

The waiting room was empty at this late hour. The nurse took me back to an examination room, her expression kind but professional. The cold gel on my stomach made me shiver.

"Let's take a look," the doctor said gently, moving the ultrasound transducer.

An image appeared on the screen, a flickering black-and-white world. And there it was. A tiny, pulsating shape. A heartbeat. A life. My baby.

Tears I didn't know I was holding back streamed down my face. In the midst of all the lies, the betrayal, and the pain, here was something real. A tiny, perfect, real thing. My child. A wave of love, fierce and protective, washed over me, so powerful it was a physical ache in my chest. This was why I had to be strong. This was why I had to survive.

"Everything looks perfect," the doctor said, smiling. "A strong, healthy heartbeat."

I let out a shuddering breath, a sound of pure relief.

As I was leaving the clinic, clutching the printed ultrasound picture like a holy relic, the door opened and someone else walked in.

My blood froze.

It was Chloe.

She stopped when she saw me, her perfect smile faltering for just a second. Then it was back, wider and more malicious than before.

"Well, well," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Look who it is."

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