Chapter 4

Belen Porter POV:

I sat in the sterile, white waiting room of the obstetrics clinic, the cheerful pastel walls mocking the gray emptiness inside me. Gregory was supposed to be here. He had marked this date on his calendar months ago, promising he wouldn' t miss our baby' s first proper check-up for anything in the world.

His secretary had called an hour ago to cancel. A "board meeting emergency."

I knew it was a lie.

The door to the clinic opened, and my heart stopped. It was him. But he wasn' t alone. Gregory was carefully, tenderly, helping Adrianna Page into a chair across the room. Her hand was pressed to her own stomach, her face a mask of fragile vulnerability.

They didn' t see me at first. He fussed over her, fetching her a glass of water, speaking in low, soothing tones. It was an intimate, domestic scene, a portrait of a loving couple awaiting the birth of their child. A portrait that should have been ours.

Then, Adrianna' s eyes met mine across the waiting room. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips.

"Belen," she said, her voice just loud enough to carry. "I didn' t expect to see you here. Gregory was just telling me you had your appointment today. I' m pregnant too, you know."

Gregory froze, his face paling as he finally saw me. He looked like a cornered animal. "Belen, this isn' t what it seems. Adrianna wasn' t feeling well, I was just..."

"You were just what, Gregory?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Playing knight in shining armor for the woman who tried to kill you?"

His face flushed with anger. "Don' t talk about her like that. She' s been through enough."

"Oh, has she?" I stood up, my gaze locking onto Adrianna's. "Tell me, Adrianna, is this baby' s father one of the myriad of men you' ve been with over the last five years, or did you manage to pin this one on the richest man you could find?"

Adrianna' s face crumpled, tears welling in her eyes. It was a masterful performance. "Greg, I told you she would be like this," she whimpered.

"Enough, Belen!" Gregory snapped, stepping in front of Adrianna as if to shield her from my words. "You' re being cruel. Adrianna is carrying my child."

The words hit me like a physical blow. He said it. He actually said it.

"Your child?" I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "You would believe that? From her?"

"I know her, Belen. I know her heart," he said, his voice lowering, laced with a righteousness that made me sick. "And even if it isn' t... she needs me. That baby needs a father."

He looked at me then, his eyes pleading for an understanding I could no longer give. "You of all people should understand that. You wanted a child so badly."

The air left my lungs. He was using my deepest desire, the child we had prayed for, as a weapon against me. He was justifying his infidelity, his betrayal, by twisting it into some noble act on behalf of an unborn baby that wasn' t even ours.

It was the cruelest thing he had ever said to me.

"So you don' t want our baby anymore?" I asked, the words tasting like ash. "Is that it? You found a replacement?"

Panic flared in his eyes. He knew he' d gone too far. "No, Belen, of course not! That' s not what I meant. I just..."

But Adrianna chose that moment to make her move. With a small, pitiful cry, she stood up and ran from the room.

Gregory' s head whipped around, his instincts screaming at him to follow. He took a step, then hesitated, looking back at me, his face torn.

"Belen, I..."

"Go," I said, my voice devoid of all emotion. "Go to her."

He didn' t need to be told twice. He didn' t ask if I was okay. He didn' t even glance back. He just ran after her, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the waiting room, the sympathetic and judgmental stares of strangers burning into my back.

I remembered a time, years ago, when I' d had an allergic reaction to a shrimp dish at a restaurant. He had been so frantic, so consumed with guilt for not checking the ingredients himself, that he' d carried me to the car and broken every speed limit to get me to the hospital. He' d held my hand the entire time, whispering apologies, his fear for me a tangible thing.

That man was gone. The love that had fueled that fear was gone.

The nurse called my name. I went through the motions of the appointment in a daze, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. But then, on the monitor, I saw it. A tiny, flickering heartbeat. Strong and steady. My baby.

In that moment, a fierce, protective love surged through me, so powerful it eclipsed all the pain. This baby was mine. And I would not let Gregory' s toxicity touch it.

As I was leaving the clinic, my phone pinged. It was a message from Adrianna. A photo of a property deed. The penthouse.

Followed by a text.

He' s promised to announce our relationship publicly next week. He' s just waiting for the right time to tell you. But I think you already know it' s over.

I looked at the picture of the deed, at her gloating words. Tears streamed down my face, but I wasn' t just crying from grief. I was crying from a strange, painful sense of relief.

It was finally, irrevocably over. He had made his choice.

Now, I could make mine.

I typed back a simple reply, my fingers steady.

You can have him.