Guthrie pointed his heavy cane directly at the divorce papers on the table. The thick veins on the back of his hand bulged with absolute fury.

Gerard stepped in front of the table. "Grandfather, you do not understand. We have irreconcilable differences. It is better for both of us if we-"

A loud, sharp slap cut off his sentence.

Guthrie struck Gerard across the face with his open hand. The sound was crisp and brutal in the quiet living room.

Adaline gasped. Without thinking, she stepped forward and placed herself between Gerard and the angry old man. The protective gesture was entirely instinctual.

Guthrie saw her move to shield his grandson. The intense rage in his eyes softened just a fraction.

Gerard looked at the thin back of the woman standing in front of him. A flash of shock crossed his face, quickly replaced by a dark, complicated shadow.

Guthrie banged his cane on the floor again. "The Crosby family trust is very clear, Gerard. If you divorce, you lose your voting rights as CEO. You lose control of the board. Are you willing to throw away the empire for some petty argument?"

Gerard clenched his jaw. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides. The Wall Street board was already looking for a reason to push him out. He knew his grandfather was not making an empty threat.

Guthrie turned his attention to Adaline. His tone dropped, becoming surprisingly gentle. "Tell me the truth, Adaline. IIs he having an affair with another woman outside? Is he mistreating you?"

Adaline felt Gerard's intense, warning gaze burning into the back of her head. Her stomach cramped violently, but she forced her facial muscles into a perfect, polite smile.

She reached back and wrapped her hand around Gerard's arm. "No, Grandfather. There is no one else. Gerard has just been working too much. We had a stupid fight. I printed those papers to scare him. We were never going to sign them."

Gerard immediately wrapped his arm around her waist. His fingers dug into her side, applying just enough pressure to warn her to keep playing along. He pulled her close, creating a picture of a unified couple.

Guthrie let out a cold snort. "Do not insult my intelligence. I know a lie when I hear one. I am staying here to supervise you two until I am satisfied this marriage is stable."

He turned to his butler. "Bruno. Go check the master bedroom. Make sure they are actually sleeping in the same bed."

Adaline's blood ran cold. A layer of cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She slept in the guest room. All her clothes, her personal items, and most importantly, her cancer medication, were hidden in the guest room nightstand.

Gerard felt her body go completely rigid against his side. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "Let me handle it."

He let go of her and walked quickly toward the hallway before Bruno could move. He stepped into the guest room, grabbed Adaline's pillows, her silk pajamas, and her hairbrush, and threw them onto the massive bed in the master suite.

Bruno walked in a minute later. He scanned the room, noted the two sets of pillows and the mixed items, and walked back out. "Everything appears normal, sir."

Guthrie looked slightly less angry. "Fine. We will have lunch together. I remember that seafood risotto you made for me last Thanksgiving," Guthrie said, his tone softening slightly. "Bruno, have the kitchen prepare the finest ingredients. Adaline, I want you to go down and supervise the chef. Guide them through your recipe. I have a craving for that exact taste today."

Adaline's heart sank. The cancer had destroyed her ability to tolerate strong smells. Even just standing near the prep station, the scent of raw seafood would make her violently ill. But she had no choice. She smiled and nodded. "Of course, Grandfather."

She walked into the open-concept kitchen. The private chef had already laid out fresh shrimp and scallops on the counter, waiting for her instructions. Wanting to finish this as quickly as possible, Adaline stepped closer to inspect the ingredients. The intense, briny smell of the raw seafood hit her nose.

Her face turned chalk-white. She dropped the knife and gripped the edge of the marble counter, fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit.

Gerard walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He saw her swaying on her feet, looking like she was about to pass out. He frowned deeply. He walked over, bumped her out of the way with his hip, and picked up the knife.

"Stop playing the victim in front of him," he muttered under his breath. He began awkwardly peeling the shrimp, his expensive suit cuffs getting stained with seafood juice.

Adaline watched the billionaire CEO, a man who never stepped foot in a kitchen, doing prep work just to save his stock options. A bitter smile touched her lips.

An hour later, they sat at the dining table. Guthrie watched them like a hawk. "Gerard, peel a shrimp for your wife."

Gerard picked up a cooked shrimp. His long fingers pulled off the shell. He placed the meat directly onto Adaline's plate. "Eat it." His eyes dared her to refuse.

Adaline stared at the shrimp. Her stomach churned. She picked up her fork, forced the meat into her mouth, and swallowed.

The reaction was instantaneous. A violent wave of nausea ripped through her body. She slapped her hand over her mouth, pushed her chair back so hard it crashed to the floor, and sprinted toward the first-floor powder room.

Guthrie froze. He stared at the empty doorway. Then, a massive, joyful smile broke across his wrinkled face. He turned to Gerard. "Is she pregnant?"

Gerard looked like he had been struck by lightning. His face twisted into an expression of pure horror. He knew for a fact he had not touched his wife in two years.

In the bathroom, Adaline fell to her knees and vomited everything into the toilet. When she finally stopped, she saw a thin streak of bright red blood mixed in the water.

A sudden, paralyzing chill gripped her heart, far colder than the marble floor beneath her. The blood was a glaring, undeniable siren that her body was deteriorating faster than she had anticipated. The sheer terror of her own mortality crashed over her, suffocating her more than Gerard's cruel accusations ever could. She knew her time was slipping through her fingers like sand. Trembling, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cold porcelain, trying to steady her erratic breathing. But amidst the fear for her own life, another dreadful realization dawned on her. She knew exactly what the old man was thinking out there. This misunderstanding was going to drag her straight into hell.

Night fell over Manhattan. Guthrie stood in the hallway, leaning heavily on his cane. He watched Bruno lock the door to the guest bedroom and pocket the key.

"You need your rest, Adaline," Guthrie said, his eyes full of warmth as he looked at her stomach. "Go to bed. Gerard will take care of you."

He stood there until Gerard and Adaline walked into the master bedroom and closed the door behind them.

The second the latch clicked, the fake warmth on Gerard's face vanished entirely. He turned slowly. His eyes were like shards of black ice. He looked at Adaline as if she were a stranger who had broken into his home.

He took a slow step forward, forcing Adaline to back up until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress. "Who is the father?" he asked. His voice was dangerously quiet.

Adaline sat down on the edge of the bed. The accusation hit her hard, but she felt completely powerless. If she told him she was not pregnant, he would drag her to a hospital to prove it. The doctors would find the cancer. Her secret would be exposed.

She looked down at her hands and chose to stay silent.

To Gerard, her silence was a confession.

He let out a harsh, bitter laugh. He pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into the solid wood of the nightstand. The wood cracked loudly under the force of his knuckles.

"You actually let that Wall Street bastard touch you," he sneered. "You got pregnant just to secure your payout. I will find out who he is. I will destroy his career and make sure he never works in this city again."

He turned on his heel, walked into the master bathroom, and slammed the door. The sound of the shower turning on echoed through the room.

Adaline pulled her legs up onto the bed. She wrapped her arms around her knees. A single tear escaped her eye and soaked into the silk pillowcase.

Half an hour later, the bathroom door opened. Gerard walked out wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his waist. Water dripped from his wet hair onto his broad chest.

He looked at the large bed. Adaline was curled up on the far right side. He looked at her with pure disgust. He grabbed a spare blanket and walked toward the leather sofa in the corner.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door. Bruno's voice filtered through the wood. "Sir. Mr. Fisher asked me to bring up some warm milk for the young madam."

Gerard cursed under his breath. He threw the blanket back onto the sofa and walked quickly to the bed. He slid under the covers just as the door handle turned.

Adaline immediately shifted closer to the edge, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Gerard reached out, grabbed her waist, and yanked her hard against his chest.

Bruno walked in holding a silver tray. He saw Gerard's arm wrapped tightly around Adaline. He smiled, set the milk on the table, and quietly left the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Gerard let go of her as if she were on fire. He rolled over, turning his back to her, leaving a massive gap of empty space between them.

Adaline stared at his wide back in the dark. The moonlight from the window highlighted the muscles in his shoulders. She traced his outline with her eyes, memorizing the shape of him.

Hours passed. The temperature in the room dropped. Adaline's cancer caused severe chills. Her body temperature plummeted. She began to shiver violently in her sleep, her teeth chattering.

Driven by pure survival instinct, her unconscious body sought out heat. She slowly drifted across the mattress. Inch by inch, she moved closer to the furnace radiating from Gerard's side of the bed. Finally, her freezing back pressed against his warm spine.

Gerard was deep in sleep. He felt the sudden coldness press against him. A sudden, inexplicable wave of familiarity washed over him in the dark. The freezing chill radiating from her small frame triggered a deep, primal instinct buried beneath his consciousness, an urge to anchor a fleeting, fragile warmth before it could vanish into the night.

He did not push Adaline away. Instead, he rolled over. He wrapped his strong arms around her shivering body and pulled her tightly against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

The intense heat from his body stopped Adaline's shivering. The painful cramps in her stomach slowly eased.

She opened her eyes in the dark. She realized she was trapped in his arms. Her heart skipped a beat. A bitter, painful joy bloomed in her chest. She knew he would hate her when he woke up. She knew this was a mistake. But she was dying. She just wanted to be held one last time.

She carefully lifted her arm and wrapped it around his waist. She pressed her face into his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart.

The room was perfectly quiet.

Suddenly, the screen of Gerard's phone on the nightstand lit up. A harsh, vibrating buzz shattered the silence.

Adaline opened her eyes. She looked over his shoulder. The name Kena flashed brightly on the screen.

The vibration woke Gerard up. His eyes snapped open. He looked down and realized he was holding Adaline.

He shoved her away instantly. He scrambled backward, putting distance between them as quickly as possible, looking at her with absolute horror.

Gerard snatched the phone off the nightstand. He answered it immediately. "Kena? What is wrong?" His voice was laced with a frantic panic he could not hide.

Through the quiet room, Adaline could hear the thin, reedy sound of Kena crying on the other end of the line. "Gerard, it hurts. I cannot breathe. I think I am dying. Please help me."

Gerard's face went completely pale. He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. "I am coming. Just hold on. Do not close your eyes."

He walked into the massive walk-in closet and began pulling on a shirt and pants with frantic speed.

Adaline sat up. The cold air hit her skin, making her shiver again. She watched his broad back as he dressed. "Gerard, your grandfather is sleeping right down the hall. If you walk out that door right now, he will know. The board will know."

Gerard stopped buttoning his shirt for exactly one second. Then his fingers moved again, faster this time. "Kena's life is more important than the company rules."

He walked out of the closet and stopped at the edge of the bed. He looked down at Adaline with cold, hard eyes. "You figure out a way to cover for me tomorrow morning. If you let my grandfather find out, I will make sure you do not get a single cent from this divorce."

Adaline looked at the absolute determination in his eyes. She knew nothing she said would stop him. She slowly closed her eyes and nodded.

Gerard did not look at her again. He grabbed his car keys from the dresser and walked out. The bedroom door clicked shut.

Adaline fell back onto the pillows. She pulled the heavy duvet up to her chin, but the cold was deep inside her bones. No blanket could fix it.

Ten minutes later, Adaline's own phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was an incoming call from an unknown number.

She stared at the glowing digits, a sudden, heavy knot of dread forming in the pit of her stomach. There was no photograph, no visual proof needed to tell her who was on the other end. The timing was too perfect, too maliciously calculated. She took a slow, painful breath, bracing herself for the inevitable.

The phone kept ringing, an encrypted number demanding her attention. She pressed answer and held the phone to her ear.

A soft, triumphant laugh came through the speaker. It was Kena. There was no trace of the weak, dying woman from ten minutes ago. Her voice was strong and dripping with arrogance.

"Did you really think the old man could keep him tied to you?" Kena asked. "Gerard will always choose me. He belongs to me."

Adaline gripped the phone tightly. Her knuckles turned white. "You are faking your illness to manipulate him. It is pathetic."

Kena's voice turned sharp and vicious. "You are the pathetic one, Adaline. You are sitting in an empty bed while your husband is holding me. He just kissed my forehead. He is making me tea right now. He looks at me like I am the only thing that matters in the world."

Every word Kena spoke was a physical blow to Adaline's chest. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through her stomach. The cancer flared up, feeding on her emotional distress.

Adaline doubled over in the bed. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming in pain. She refused to let Kena hear her suffer.

She forced herself to take a shallow breath. "You are terrified, Kena. You have to play sick because you know you are not enough for him on your own."

Adaline ended the call and dropped the phone.

She could not hold it in anymore. She leaned over the side of the bed and dry-heaved violently. Her stomach muscles cramped so hard she felt like she was being torn in half. Only bitter acid came up.

She needed her painkillers. She slid off the bed and crawled across the carpet toward the bathroom.

As she dragged herself past the coffee table, her foot caught the cord of a heavy brass floor lamp. The lamp tipped over and crashed onto the floor with a loud thud.

Adaline froze. She slapped both hands over her mouth.

Footsteps approached in the hallway outside. Bruno's voice came through the door. "Madam? Is everything alright in there?"

Adaline squeezed her eyes shut. She fought through the blinding pain in her stomach and forced her voice to sound sleepy and calm. "I am fine, Bruno. I just bumped into the lamp in the dark. Go back to sleep."

Bruno paused outside the door. "Very well, Madam." The footsteps slowly faded away.

Adaline let out a shaky breath. She dragged herself into the bathroom, opened the cabinet, and swallowed two pills without water. She slumped against the cold tiles, staring at her ruined reflection in the mirror. She was done crying over him. Tomorrow, she was going to end this.