Vivian fell asleep on the sofa in the library. She woke up to the sound of tires crunching on gravel.

It was late. Past midnight.

She wiped her face, smoothing her hair. She wouldn't let him see her disheveled.

The front door opened. Julian walked in. He looked tired, but there was a softness to his edges that hadn't been there before. The aftermath of a good evening.

He saw her sitting in the library. He looked surprised.

You're still up, he said.

I couldn't sleep, Vivian said. "The safe was empty, Julian."

He didn't even flinch. He walked into the room, unbuttoning his cuffs. "I must have left them in the city office. My mistake."

He was lying so easily now.

He placed a small, black velvet box on the coffee table in front of her.

For you, he said. "A parting gift."

Vivian's heart did a treacherous flip. For a second, a foolish, stupid second, she thought he had come to apologize. She thought he had realized his mistake.

Open it, he urged.

She reached out and snapped the lid open.

Inside lay a diamond tennis bracelet. It was thick, heavy with stones. It must have cost fifty thousand dollars. It was beautiful. It was cold. It was generic.

It looked like something you bought for a mistress, or a distant relative. It had no personality.

Serena helped me pick it out, he said casually. "She has great taste."

Vivian felt the air leave the room.

He didn't realize. He genuinely didn't realize the cruelty of that statement. He was giving his wife a divorce gift picked out by the woman he was leaving her for.

Vivian snapped the box shut. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

I don't want it, she said.

Julian sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Don't be difficult, Vivian. It's a gesture of goodwill."

Goodwill? Vivian repeated.

The trust fund will be set up next week, he switched to business mode. "You'll never have to work again. You can travel. You can do whatever you want."

I want to work, she said.

Not at Sterling Corp, he countered immediately.

Why not? I'm good at my job.

It would be awkward, Julian said. "For Serena. She's going to be the face of the new campaign. Having my ex-wife in the PR department... it sends the wrong message."

Vivian laughed. It was a dry, broken sound.

So I lose my husband, my home, and my job?

You gain your freedom, he said.

Vivian looked at him. She really looked at him. She saw the man she had loved for ten years. And she realized she didn't know him at all. He was a stranger. A selfish, oblivious stranger.

She placed a hand on her stomach.

What if I wanted something else? she asked softly.

Julian checked his watch. "It's late, Vivian. We can discuss the logistics tomorrow."

He turned to leave the room.

He didn't care what she wanted. He never had.

Vivian looked at the bracelet on the table. It glittered under the lamp, mocking her.

She stood up and walked past him. She went to the guest room. She locked the door.

She sat on the bed and pulled out her phone. She opened her email.

There was a message from Olivia Lane.

Subject: Mandatory Meeting.

Meeting at 9 AM tomorrow. Don't be late. We have big changes to discuss.

Vivian deleted the email.

She decided then and there. She would sign the papers. But she would do it on her terms. And she would make sure he never, ever found out about the baby.

Vivian arrived at Sterling Corp HQ at 8:45 AM. Her access badge took two tries to work. The red light blinked at her, a warning. When it finally turned green, the receptionist, a girl Vivian had bought coffee for a dozen times, looked down at her desk, avoiding eye contact.

The grapevine was faster than fiber optics. Everyone knew.

Vivian walked to the PR department. The usually buzzing floor went silent as she passed. Heads ducked behind monitors. Whispers trailed in her wake like smoke.

She entered the main conference room.

Olivia Lane sat at the head of the table. She was wearing a red dress, aggressive and bright.

Behind her, on the projection screen, were giant digital posters. They were mock-ups of the new campaign.

Serena Chase's face was everywhere.

We're rebranding, Olivia said. She didn't say hello. She didn't offer Vivian a seat.

Lily Evans is out, Olivia continued. "Serena is in."

Vivian frowned. Lily Evans was the current face of the brand. She was a sweet girl, a rising model who had just signed a two-year contract. Vivian had negotiated that contract herself.

Lily has a contract, Vivian said. "You can't just fire her."

Olivia smirked. She tapped her pen on the table. "Julian authorized the breach fee. He wants the slate wiped clean."

Vivian felt a headache blooming behind her eyes. The waste of money. The cruelty to Lily. It was all for Serena.

This is unprofessional, Olivia, Vivian said, keeping her voice steady.

Olivia leaned forward. Her eyes glittered with malice.

We're streamlining, Olivia said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Cutting the dead weight. Honestly, Vivian, with your... background, it's a miracle you lasted this long in a company of this caliber. Budget cuts are tough, but we can't keep supporting charity cases just because of old family debts."

Vivian's blood ran cold.

Olivia was talking about her father. Her adoptive father, Miller. He had been a good man, a hardworking man who died of a heart attack trying to pay for her tuition before the Sterlings stepped in. He wasn't a "charity case." He was a victim of the very capitalist machine Sterling Corp represented.

Take that back, Vivian said quietly. Her hands were shaking.

Olivia laughed. It was a high, ugly sound. "Or what? You'll tell your ex-husband? Oh wait, he doesn't care about you anymore. He's finally with a woman of his own class."

Vivian snapped.

The rage that had been building for days-the pregnancy, the divorce, the lies, the bracelet-it all focused into a single point.

She walked up to Olivia.

She didn't think. She swung her hand.

Slap.

The sound echoed in the glass-walled room. It was loud, crisp, violent.

Olivia's head snapped to the side. She screamed, holding her cheek. It was a fake, dramatic scream, but the red mark on her face was real.

I am going to sue you! Olivia shrieked.

The glass door to the conference room flew open.

Julian stood there.

He took in the scene instantly. Olivia sobbing theatrically. Vivian standing there, chest heaving, her hand still raised.

He didn't ask what happened. He didn't look at Vivian's tear-filled eyes. He looked at Olivia.

Vivian, come to my office, he barked.

Now, he added.

Vivian lowered her hand. Her palm stung. She felt sick.

She walked past him. She held her head high, but her legs felt like jelly.

Behind her, she heard Olivia sniffle. "She's unstable, Julian. I was just discussing the budget..."

Vivian walked into the hallway. She didn't look back. She knew who he would believe.

Julian slammed his office door shut. The heavy mahogany vibrated with the force of it.

He loosened his tie, furious. He paced behind his desk.

You assaulted an employee, he accused. His voice was low, dangerous.

She insulted my father, Vivian defended herself. Her voice shook, but she stood her ground.

Julian waved his hand dismissively. "Words, Vivian. You responded with violence."

She called me a charity case. She mocked his death.

Julian stopped pacing. He looked at her. There was no sympathy in his eyes, only annoyance.

Olivia is vital to Serena's launch, he said. "She is the marketing lead. You cannot go around slapping people because your feelings are hurt."

My feelings? Vivian laughed incredulously. "This isn't about feelings. It's about respect."

You are damaging the company image, Julian cut her off. "We are in a delicate transition period."

Vivian felt the injustice burning in her throat like acid. He cared more about the campaign than her dignity.

You need to apologize to her, Julian commanded.

No, Vivian said firmly.

Julian stepped closer. He used his height to intimidate her, looming over her.

Do it, or the divorce settlement changes, he said.

Vivian looked at him with disbelief. He was blackmailing her.

I can tie the assets up in court for years, Vivian. You'll get nothing.

Vivian looked at the man she had married. He was a monster. A pragmatic, cold-blooded monster.

She decided to test him. One last time. She needed to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Julian, does anything about us matter? she asked.

He frowned, impatient.

What if... Vivian placed a hand on her stomach. "What if I were pregnant?"

Julian froze.

The room went silent. The air conditioning hummed.

His eyes narrowed. He scanned her face, looking for a lie. His gaze dropped to her stomach, then back to her eyes.

Are you? he asked sharply.

Vivian held her breath.

Hypothetically, she whispered.

Julian let out a harsh laugh. He ran a hand down his face.

Don't play games, Vivian.

He walked back to his desk and sat down, putting a barrier between them.

The contract is clear. Any pregnancy would be a disaster right now.

Vivian felt her heart stop.

And frankly, he looked her in the eye, his gaze steady and cold. "I would never want a child to be born into this mess. If you were pregnant, I would expect you to handle it. Or I would handle it for you. No child of mine will be raised in a broken home."

There it was. The truth.

Handle it. That meant erase it.

Vivian felt something inside her shatter. It wasn't her heart-that was already broken. It was her hope. The last thread that connected her to him snapped.

She reached into her pocket and gripped the bottle of pills. She needed to protect this baby. From him.

I understand, she said. Her voice was dead. Flat.

I'll apologize.

Good, Julian said without looking up. "Make it convincing."

Vivian turned. She walked to the door. She hid the single tear that escaped her eye.

She walked out to find Olivia. She apologized mechanically, her words hollow. Olivia smirked, triumphant.

Vivian walked to the bathroom. She locked herself in a stall.

She took the bottle of prenatal vitamins out of her purse. She looked at the label she had handwritten earlier: "Stress Relief / Ulcer."

She looked at the bottle.

He would never know. She would die before she let him "handle" her child.