Ryan's POV

The Montenegro family library is filled with people I really do not care about. Their voices carry into the air, pinched faces, hurrying lips, narrowed gazes – the loudest this space has been since the death of my father.

I turn to the windows, leaning forward slightly. The clouds are gathering. It won't be long before rain patters to the earth. I hope it doesn't trap them all in here. I can't deal with them for an hour longer.

The door squeaks open suddenly, and the room is immediately plunged into silence as David, the family lawyer, saunters in. His shoes tap lightly against the marble floor as he crosses the space, walking past the whole family and settling into the seat that once belonged to my father.

A muscle works in my jaw, but in that split second, I feel warm, slender fingers on my arm. My girlfriend, Luciana.

She shakes her head subtly. "Not here, Ryan."

David's eyes fall on her. "The will reading is meant for family only."

"I am family," she murmurs, leaning further into the couch. "Or do you want to contest that?"

David looks like he is about to say something, but he decides against it, moving instead to the black briefcase in his hands. In another minute, he retrieves a folder and flips to the first page.

"The late Montenegro has assigned all rights to me to read his will today, and hence, everything in this document stands. If you have issues with it, you can take it up with the court, but I assure you that it was written and signed in the presence of two witnesses."

And then, he looks sternly at my mother, seated at the opposite side of the room. "Shall we begin?"

David starts with the formalities, reading every line and going into details about the properties and assets owned by my father. I allow my mind to trail away, because I am aware of every penny. I have been from a tender age.

As his only son, my father made it a point to teach me everything I needed to know to run the chain of companies. But we had our differences. My father and I.

After what feels like an eternity, David finally calls my name, and even the silence in the room deepens. I scoot to the edge of my seat, looking up at David.

He clears his throat noisily before his lips move again. "To my son, Ryan Montenegro, you have grown to live below your potential. It is what I term a reckless life, and I would like to see some responsibility in you now. For this reason, the ownership of the companies goes to you."

A smile stretches on my mother's face, but mine remains the same. Stoic and expressionless. I know my father. He would not have given me his whole legacy if there wasn't a catch to it.

As if on cue, David flips to the next page. "But this is only dependent on a condition."

The air in the room stills.

"If Ryan Montenegro, my first and only son, fails to marry within one month of my death," David continues. "Control of the Montenegro Conglomerate will be transferred to my nephew, Xavier Montenegro."

"That's a joke, right?" My mother's voice carries through the room. "I mean, my husband couldn't have possibly written that."

"There's still more," David murmurs. Of course. He is going to make me suffer from being called the CEO.

"If you get married without having a child within the first two years, the company's ownership shares will go to my nephew, Xavier Montenegro. This is to ensure that the marriage is real and strong, and to continue the Montenegro line."

My eyes take in Xavier, sitting comfortably with a smug look on his face. He leans in to his mother and whispers something.

The grins on their faces throw me off balance, but if there is one thing I have learned from my late father, it is the fact that you never let your enemies know when you are displeased.

"Is that it?" I mutter, rising to my feet. David looks up at me, his eyes bearing that gleam of surprise. He expected me to do something more. Maybe lash out at how ludicrous the will is. But I expected it.

"Yes, Sir."

"Great, then." I turn to my mother. "I have to get to the company now. There is a meeting scheduled with some investors tonight. Just in case Xavier takes over as CEO, I need him to meet the finances of the company in great shape."

It is meant to be a jab, but my foolish nephew nods in agreement, his wide smile almost bursting his face open.

Rolling my eyes, I move to my mother, leaning to plant a chaste peck on her cheeks. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What about Luciana?" She whispers, her eyes on my girlfriend.

"She said she has an outing with her friends tonight. I'll see her at home."

I pull away and walk out of the mansion that ceased to be called home ages ago, waiting out on the curb as my bodyguard brings the car over.

"Sir," he says as he gets the backseat door open.

"Thank you, Thomas."

Out in the dense traffic, Thomas regards me from the rearview mirror. His lips part and close repeatedly.

"I heard what happened in there."

"Damn!" I breathe. "News sure does travel fast."

"What do you plan on doing?"

I shrug. "There is no way Xavier is getting the company. Not after all the rumors circulating."

"There was nothing about that in the will?"

I shake my head. "My father isn't bold enough, even in death, to declare to the whole city that the young man he parades as his nephew is actually his firstborn son. And even if Xavier doesn't know that, I do."

Thomas takes a sharp turn, going at full speed. "If he does, he would know the CEO seat is actually his to take."

"There is no way on earth I am giving out the Montenegro Conglomerate to an ex-convict. Xavier is...."

A girl with long brown hair runs out into the open from nowhere, and Thomas hits the brakes hard, pushing me forward. She halts in that split second, panic and dread filling her eyes before her feet give way underneath her.

Kiera's POV

And once again, I am drowning.

But this time, it feels different. It's warmer in here, and no matter how deep it seems, my body never hits the ground. I see those eyes again, their intensity finding its way deep into my bones.

My lips move at the same time as my hands. I try to reach out, to touch them. But they slip away from my grasp, slowly until they fade into oblivion.

This is when the smell seeps through. That familiar smell of antiseptic alerts me to where I am. Blinding lights bit into my eyes the minute I pull them open, and at once, I remember how I got here in the first place.

The screeching sound when I walked into the road, the driver hitting the brakes, my heart giving out inside me.

Alex.

I try to get up, panic coursing through every fibre of my being. I look around frantically, the white walls meaning nothing to me. I still think my husband is going to come out of nowhere to finish what he started.

He is going to harm my baby, and I won't be able to do a thing about it.

I need to leave.

And I need to do that now.

My hand moves to the drop attached to my other hand, but just as I start to pull it out, the door pushes open, and a doctor walks in. He halts for a second at the door, his eyes taking in the scene, before his feet start moving again.

"What are you doing, Miss?" He asks, wrapping his firm hands around mine and pulling them apart.

"I need to leave," I wail, fighting hard against his grip. I use my body, my feet, my eyes...but he doesn't budge.

"You can't," he says with such calmness that I begin to feel like I am running insane. "Just... relax, okay? I need your name."

I shake my head insistently, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "He is going to find me, don't you get it? He is going to harm my baby."

When the door opens again, I almost rip the needle out of my arm, but a temporary relief washes through me when I see that it is just another doctor. He seems to be the senior around here, taking over from the one who first walked in.

"Miss," he begins in that same calm tone. "I am going to need you to take a deep breath if you don't want to be knocked unconscious this minute."

That has to be a violation of ethics, but something about the way he says it has my raging breath calming immediately. I take in gulps of air, my chest rising and falling, the flush on my face evening out.

He angles his head, before his eyes stray to the needle, slightly poking out of my skin.

The doctor turns to the other one. "Get me a pair of latex gloves, please."

"Where is Alex?" I breathe when it is just us both in the room. "Did he ask you to keep me here? Did he tell you I am running insane?"

He leans closer, looking into my eyes. His gaze narrows before he pulls away, retrieving a folder by the side of the bed. "And who might Alex be?"

I stop, realizing for the first time that this isn't the hospital Alex usually brings me to after beating me up. It's bigger and from the bed, I can take in the view beyond the balcony. There is a waterfall a distance away, and the sound of the water carries through the space.

It's not something Alex or Lara can afford.

"Where am I?"

"The hospital." He pushes the folder back and turns to look at me. "You were brought in last night after an accident. Luckily, you weren't hit by the car, but the shock made you pass out."

My lips fall open, but nothing comes out. He takes it as a cue to proceed.

"We had to keep you sedated because you looked like you were under pressure and your body needed rest, especially for your baby."

My baby.

My hands fly to my stomach immediately, feeling much better that nothing happened to it.

"Who brought me in?" My quiet voice creates such contrast with the way I sounded earlier when I thought Alex was around.

The doctor remains silent for a minute before his lips move again. "He prefers to remain anonymous," he says, clasping his hands in front of him. "However, he did ensure that you were given the best medical attention."

Confusion etches in my future as I try to sit up again. "How ... why?" This has to be a private ward.

The other doctor returns with the gloves. "Someone named Lara is outside. She says she is the patient's aunt."

My panic returns, eyes shooting wide open. I should have known this wasn't going to last long.

***

Lara pulls up in the driveway in front of her house, and the silence of the engine sounds deafening. She takes her time pulling the key out of the ignition before turning around to face me.

"You reported Alex to the police." It is the first time she has spoken to me since she got to the hospital, and I made her wait out there for hours. "Why?"

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop it from quivering. It has been years now. I can't believe Lara still frightens me.

"He hit me," I manage to say, my voice coming out as a whimper. "He deserves to rot in jail."

When I look back into the car, my aunt's knuckles have tightened into fists on her lap, and her eyes glare daggers at me.

"You should count yourself lucky that I have guests inside," she whispers harshly. "Today is a very important day for Ava, my daughter. So, we will revisit whatever this is once they leave. Are we clear?"

I nod quietly, just grateful that she hasn't hit me yet. I follow her out of the car, walking through the side of the lawn and over to the door.

Lara turns around abruptly, and I almost bump into her.

"The minute we walk in, take the stairs, and disappear out of sight. I don't want to smell your lousy self around. Or you return to the hospital. Heaven knows I have tried keeping you fed since you killed my sister."

Lara doesn't wait for my response as she pushes the door open, stepping into the cozy space. A sharp pain slices through my chest at her words, and I walk in behind her, needing to be out of her way.

But suddenly, my feet refuse to move, freezing to the spot, when I see the eerily familiar pair of green eyes in Lara's living room.

RYAN'S POV

I don't even realize I've stopped breathing until I hear the screech of the brakes.

One second, the road is clear.

The next, a girl stumbles right into my headlights and collapses like her legs give out beneath her.

For a moment, everything inside me goes still.

Then instinct kicks in.

I'm out of the car together with Thomas before the engine even settles, crossing the road in long strides.

"Hey-" Thomas's voice comes out rough. "Hey, can you hear me?"

She's shaking so badly her teeth are chattering. Her hair is everywhere, her clothes torn, her face blotched with tears and fear I can feel straight through my skin.

And then she whispers, voice barely there, "Please... don't let him take me back..."

I don't know who him is.

But I know what fear looks like.

What escape looks like.

Before I can ask anything, her eyes roll back and she goes limp in my arms.

We lift her easily. She's weightless, like a wounded thing trying to disappear, and carry her into my car. My pulse hasn't slowed since the moment she stepped into the road.

I don't even remember the drive to the hospital. I only remember the way she kept flinching in her sleep, like even the darkness was after her.

*****

Because of an emergency, Thomas leaves the hospital with me waiting alone.

The doctor finally comes out, pulling down his mask.

I stand instantly. "How is she?"

He hesitates, and my jaw tightens.

"There's something you should know," he says quietly. "She's pregnant."

The word hits harder than I expect. Pregnant.

This girl. This terrified, trembling girl was carrying a child?

Running for her life with a baby inside her?

The doctor continues, "The stress and the physical assault she experienced put the pregnancy in danger. We're monitoring her, but she needs specialized care."

I don't let him finish.

"Give her whatever she needs. Private suite, twenty-four-hour monitoring, specialists. Everything."

He nods. "There will be additional-"

"Do it," I cut him off. "Money isn't the problem. Just keep her safe."

And I mean it more than I know how to explain.

He hurries off, and when they move her to the luxury wing, I follow.

The room is quiet, warm, nothing like the night she came from. Machines blink around her, steady and soft. She looks... small. Too small for everything she's carrying.

I stand there for a long minute, watching her breathe, wondering who she is and what kind of world she comes from.

And why I couldn't just leave her there on that road.

I don't have answers.

But I know I can't stay.

Not with what I came here to do tonight.

I stand by her bedside, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the faint beep of the monitor filling the quiet room. She's still unconscious, the kind of still that makes your skin itch with worry. And yet, in this sterile silence, I feel a strange calm, as though being here is the only place I'm allowed to breathe.

My phone buzzes sharply in my pocket, breaking the spell. I pull it out and glance at the screen.

It's one of the company directors.

"Sir," the voice on the line is tense. "We just received notice. The investors... they're asking for confirmation on the new acquisitions tonight. They expect you to attend."

I frown. A frown that feels wrong in the middle of this hospital room. My hands tighten around the railing of the bed.

My father's empire doesn't wait for emergencies.

It doesn't care who's bleeding on the pavement.

It never will.

But something in me shifts. Something stubborn, like it refuses to let another moment slip without action.

Luciana.

I need her to say yes.

Not for the company.

Not for appearances.

For me.

"I'll handle it," I say sharply, ending the call.

I step back from the bed, take a long breath of antiseptic-tinged air, and let my gaze linger on her one last time.

Every line of her face is etched into my mind. Bruised lips, trembling hands, the faint glow of her eyelashes against her cheek.

I don't know her name.

I don't know her story.

But I know I can't leave this behind.

The hospital fades behind me as I get into the car. The city lights smear past, a blur of yellow and red. My pulse thumps against my ribs, urging me forward.

I drive without thinking, following instinct more than roads, until I find myself outside Luciana's building.

*****

Luciana opens her penthouse door wearing silk and that practiced smile she uses on cameras and people she needs.

"Ryan?" She steps back a little. "You look like you wrestled with a storm."

"I need to talk to you."

She raises a brow. "Serious?"

"Yes."

"Too serious."

I don't sit. I don't breathe. I just say it.

"Marry me."

Her expression freezes, then shifts into something unreadable.

"Ryan..."

"You wanted commitment," I remind her. "I'm giving it."

She presses her lips together and for a second, I almost think she'll say yes.

But she sighs, soft and controlled. I believe she immediately remembered the will.

"I can't."

Something cold settles in my chest. "Why not?"

"Because I can't get pregnant," she says simply. "Not now. My entire career depends on my body. My figure. My contracts. A pregnancy would ruin everything. And a child is what you need from what I heard the will read."

I stare at her, and something inside me... clicks out of place.

"But we can find alternatives," she adds quickly. "A surrogate. Or we wait and adopt. Or even... just have a marriage for image."

Image.

Career.

Body.

Not once does she say us.

Not once does she say love.

I take a slow breath. "I understand."

But I don't. Not really.

And I can't stay another second in a place where everything is so conditional.

I storm out angrily.

*****

Mother is waiting when I get home, elegant as always, a woman who carries control in her posture.

"I heard you went to Luciana's," she says.

"I did."

"And?"

"It won't work."

She isn't surprised. If anything, she looks vindicated.

"Of course not. That girl is unserious. And you..." she gives me a pointed look, "you are the soon-to-be chairman of Montenegro Holdings. Your partner must be someone who understands duty."

I rub a hand across my jaw, tired in a way I can't show.

She continues, "Since you clearly don't know how to choose, I've arranged something. A potential bride. Proper background. Proper upbringing. You will meet her tomorrow."

I stiffen. "Mother-"

"This isn't optional," she cuts in. "You're not a boy anymore. You don't get to play with your future. Or ours."

I breathe out slowly. "Fine. I'll go."

Her satisfaction is instant. "Good. And Ryan? Behave."

I don't respond. I just leave.

I should be thinking about tomorrow. About my mother's plans. About the expectations waiting for me.

But all I can see is the girl in the hospital bed.

Bruised. Exhausted. Pregnant. Alone.

And for reasons I can't explain even to myself, she stays in my mind long after I close my eyes.