Elena's POV

I moved my hand under the sheet to touch my stomach.

It was tender, but there was no cramping. No blood. The nurse had told me earlier, while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, that the baby was fine.

Liam didn't know. And after what he just said, he would never know.

"So," Liam checked his watch. "The doctor says you can be discharged tonight. It's just a fracture. We're going home."

"I'm not going home with you," I said.

Liam's face hardened. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper so Sophia wouldn't hear, or maybe he didn't care if she did.

"Yes, you are," he said. "Marcus just called. He said if you cause a scene or try to separate from me right now, he'll pull your sponsorship. Your visa expires in three weeks, Elena. Without the Glaciers, you're deported."

I looked into his eyes. There was no love there. Only calculation.

"You need me," Liam said, patting my uninjured hand condescendingly. "So let's stop the drama. Put on a smile. We're walking out of here as a united couple. For the team."

He straightened up and turned back to Sophia. "Ready to go, Soph? I'll drive you home first, then I'll come back for Elena."

"Okay, Liam," Sophia smiled sweetly. She cast one last look at me, a look of pure triumph, and took his arm.

They walked out.

I was left alone in the sterile silence.

I reached for my purse on the bedside table. My fingers brushed against the velvet box hidden inside. Noah's ring.

I wanted to put it on. I wanted to call him. I wanted to fly away on his jet and leave this hell behind.

But I couldn't.

Not yet.

If I left now, I would be the "crazy ex-wife" who abandoned her hero husband. I would be deported. I would lose my career, my reputation, everything.

And Sophia would win. She would live in my house, raise her child with my husband, and laugh about how she crushed me.

No.

I gripped the bedsheet.

I would go home. I would play their game. I would smile for the cameras.

But I would be watching.

Liam thought I was just "tough." He was about to find out that I wasn't just tough.

I was unbreakable.

Returning to the house felt like walking back into a prison cell, except this one was decorated with velvet drapes and expensive art.

Liam played the role of the doting husband perfectly as he helped me out of the car. He supported my uninjured arm, guiding me up the steps.

"See?" he said, unlocking the door. "Home sweet home. No reporters. Just us."

I stepped inside. The air was stale. The scent of Sophia's perfume, a cloying vanilla musk, still lingered in the foyer. She had been here. Recently.

"I need to lie down," I said, heading for the stairs. My head was still throbbing from the concussion.

"Wait," Liam called out. "I... I need to talk to you. About our future."

He walked over to the kitchen island where I had left my purse earlier. He was holding a piece of paper.

My heart stopped.

It was the appointment slip from the Eastside Women's Clinic. I must have dropped it when I was fumbling for my keys, or maybe he had gone through my bag.

"I found this," Liam said, his expression unreadable.

I braced myself. He knows. He knows I tried to abort his baby.

But then, his face softened into a look of pity that was even worse than anger.

"Eastside Clinic," he read. "I looked it up. They specialize in... difficult cases. Fertility issues."

He looked at me, shaking his head sadly. "Is that where you were going? To see why you can't get pregnant?"

I stared at him. The slip clearly said Consultation, but he had filled in the blanks with his own narrative. He was so convinced that I was "broken" that he couldn't imagine any other reason for me to visit a clinic.

"I..." I started to speak, but he cut me off.

"It's okay, Elena," he said, walking over to hug me. I stood stiff as a board in his arms. "I know you want a baby. I know how hard you've been trying. It must be devastating for you to fail, month after month."

Fail.

He was talking about failure while his mistress was pregnant with his child.

"But," Liam pulled back, his eyes gleaming with a strange, manic excitement. "Maybe this is a sign. Maybe God closed this door to open a window."

"What are you talking about?" I asked warily.

"Mike," Liam said. "You know... my old army buddy who died last year? Well, I found out something tragic. He had a girlfriend. And she... she passed away in childbirth recently."

I watched him weave the lie. It was impressive, in a sick way.

"She left behind a baby," Liam continued, grabbing my hands. "A little boy. He's in the system, Elena. Alone. No parents. Just like Mike."

"And?"

"And I think we should adopt him."

Elena's POV

The room went silent.

"You want us... to adopt a random baby?" I asked, feigning shock.

"Not random! Mike's son!" Liam insisted. "Look, Elena, let's be real. Your body... it's not built for this. You're stressed, you work too much, and biologically... it's just not happening. But this baby needs a mother. And you... you need a child to fix you."

To fix me.

He wanted me to raise his bastard son so that Sophia wouldn't have to deal with the sleepless nights, and so he could have his heir under his roof. He wanted me to be the free nanny.

I wanted to vomit. I wanted to scream.

But then I remembered the locked drawer in his study. The one he never let me touch. If I agreed... if I played the compliant, desperate wife... maybe he would lower his guard.

I forced tears into my eyes. I made my lip tremble.

"Oh, Liam," I whispered. "Do you really think... I could be a mother?"

"Of course," Liam smiled, the trap snapping shut. "You'll be great. And Sophia... she's volunteered to help with the paperwork. She knows the agency. She can bring the baby over for you to meet soon."

"Okay," I said, burying my face in his chest to hide my expression. "Okay, Liam. Let's do it."

"Good girl," he kissed the top of my head. "I'll go tell Sophia the good news. She's coming over tomorrow to finalize things."

He let go of me and practically skipped toward his study.

"Oh, Liam?" I called out.

He stopped. "Yeah?"

"I need the tax documents for the visa renewal," I lied smoothly. "Can you leave the key to the filing cabinet? I want to sort it out tomorrow while you're at practice."

Liam hesitated for a split second. But he was high on victory. He had the wife, the mistress, and the baby plan all sorted.

"Sure, babe," he said. "It's in the top drawer. Just don't mess up my system."

He walked away.

I stood alone in the kitchen. My hand moved to my stomach.

You want me to raise your son, Liam? I thought. I'll raise him. I'll raise him to know exactly what kind of man his father is.

But first, I was going to open that cabinet and bury you.

The next morning, the house was quiet. Liam had left for practice, whistling.

I was in the study.

The filing cabinet was a treasure trove. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for. Not just the tax fraud, but the transfers.

Monthly transfer: $15,000 to S. Cruz. Real Estate Purchase: Condo in Manhattan, Co-owner: Sophia Cruz. Medical Bills: Prenatal Care, VIP Package.

He was spending our money, money I had helped him earn by keeping his body functional, on her.

I took photos of everything. I uploaded them to a secure cloud server that only I could access.

"Working hard, or hardly working?"

I spun around.

Sophia was standing in the doorway of the study. I hadn't heard the front door open. She had a key. Of course she did.

She was wearing a tight cashmere sweater that accentuated her small bump. Her eyes scanned the papers on the desk.

"Snooping, Elena?" she tutted. "Liam won't like that."

"I'm getting tax documents," I said, closing the folder calmly. "Like I told him."

Sophia walked into the room. She didn't look convinced. Her eyes drifted to the open bag on the chair, my medical bag.

Inside, a bottle of prenatal vitamins was visible. I had forgotten to hide it deep enough.

Sophia's eyes narrowed. She reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle.

"Prenatal vitamins?" she read the label. She looked at me, then at my stomach. A dark realization dawned on her face.

"You didn't go to the clinic," she whispered.

I stood up. "Give that back."

"You're pregnant," Sophia said, her voice rising. "Liam said you were barren. He said you went to the clinic to fix your broken uterus. But you're pregnant."

"It's none of your business."

"It is my business!" Sophia screeched. She threw the bottle at me. It hit my chest and clattered to the floor. "He promised me! He promised my son would be the heir! If you have a child... a legitimate child..."

Panic flared in her eyes. If I had a baby, her child would just be the bastard. Liam might stay with me for the sake of his public image. Her plan to replace me would fail.

"You have to get rid of it," she hissed, advancing on me.

"You're insane," I said, backing away toward the hallway. "Get out of my house."

"It's not your house!" Sophia lunged at me.

I dodged her. My cast made me clumsy, but I was still faster than her. I made it to the hallway, heading for the stairs. I needed to get to my phone. I needed to call the police.

The front door opened.

"Honey, I'm home! Forgot my knee brace!" Liam's voice boomed from the foyer below.

Sophia froze. Her eyes darted from me to the stairs, then to Liam's voice.

A twisted, evil smile spread across her face.

"Perfect timing," she whispered.

Then, she screamed.

"No! Elena! Don't push me!"

Before I could react, Sophia threw herself backward.

She didn't just stumble. She launched herself down the carpeted stairs, flailing her arms, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"STOP!" I yelled, reaching out instinctively to grab her, but I was too far away.

She tumbled down the last four steps, landing in a heap at the bottom, right at Liam's feet.