Avery was buttering a piece of toast when the doorbell rang. The sound echoed through the cavernous dining room.

Julian was at the head of the table, reading a financial report. He didn't look up.

The butler opened the doors, and Scarlett breezed in. She was followed by three movers carrying Louis Vuitton trunks.

"Julian!" Scarlett exclaimed, her voice breathless. "I'm so sorry to intrude."

Julian lowered the paper. "What's going on?"

Scarlett bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes. "My apartment... a pipe burst. It's flooded. I didn't know where else to go."

Avery took a bite of her toast. It tasted like cardboard.

"You can stay here," Julian said immediately.

Scarlett turned to Avery, a sweet, apologetic smile plastered on her face. "Avery, you don't mind, do you? It's just for a few days."

Avery didn't look at her. She kept her eyes on her plate. "It's Julian's house. Ask him."

Julian's jaw tightened. "Put her in the East Suite."

The knife in Avery's hand slipped, clattering against the china. The East Suite was her painting studio. It was the only room in the house that was truly hers.

"That's Avery's studio," the butler murmured hesitantly.

"She doesn't paint anymore," Julian said coldly, his eyes fixed on Avery, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction. "It has the best light in the house. Scarlett needs a cheerful environment. Clear it out."

Avery felt the bile rising in her throat. She pushed her plate away.

"You look pale, Avery," Scarlett noted, sitting down in the chair to Julian's right. "Still recovering from that little cold?"

"It's not a cold," Julian said, flipping a page of his report. "It's laziness. Which reminds me-I've put you on mandatory leave from the Sterling merger."

Avery's head snapped up. "That's my project. I've worked on it for six months."

"And you're running yourself into the ground," Julian countered, his voice brokering no argument. "I've brought in the K&L consulting team to oversee the finalization. They are the best in the world. They will ensure your family's legacy is secure while you... recover. Stop embarrassing me with your frailty."

Avery stared at him. He wasn't doing this to be kind. He was stripping her of her purpose. He was dismantling her life, piece by piece.

The smell of the bacon on the table suddenly became unbearable. Avery stood up, her hand flying to her mouth. She rushed out of the room, barely making it to the powder room down the hall before she retched.

She gripped the porcelain sink, her knuckles white. She dry-heaved, her stomach cramping violently.

She heard footsteps.

"Dramatic," a voice said from the doorway.

It was Scarlett. She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

"He thinks you're doing this for attention," Scarlett whispered. "He hates weak women."

Avery rinsed her mouth, spitting into the sink. She looked at Scarlett in the mirror. "Enjoy the studio, Scarlett. The lighting is terrible in the afternoon."

Scarlett's smile faltered for a second. "You think you're clever. But you're just a placeholder. You always were."

"And you're a liar," Avery said, turning to face her. "Tell me, Scarlett, how are you going to enjoy the Jacuzzi in that suite? You always seem so... terrified of the sound of rushing water. Strange for a hero who swam into a riptide."

Scarlett's face went rigid. Before she could respond, Julian walked into the hallway.

Scarlett immediately sagged, putting a hand to her chest. "I was just checking on her, Julian. She... she said some awful things."

Julian stepped between them. He placed a hand on Scarlett's back and glared at Avery.

"Don't take your failures out on her," he warned. "Go upstairs. I don't want to see you until dinner."

The dream was always the same.

Avery was strapped to a metal table. The lights were blinding. Julian stood over her, wearing surgical scrubs, a scalpel in his hand.

"It's a mistake," he said, his voice echoing. "It has to go."

Scarlett was laughing in the corner, holding a jar. "Give it to me, Avery. Give it to me."

Avery woke up with a gasp, sitting bolt upright. Her nightgown was soaked with sweat.

The door to her bedroom opened. Julian stood there, silhouetted by the hall light.

"You were screaming," he said. He walked into the room, carrying a glass of water.

Avery scrambled backward, pressing herself against the headboard. "Don't come near me."

Julian stopped. He frowned. "It's water, Avery."

"I don't want it." Her chest was heaving.

He set the glass down on the nightstand with a sharp clack. He leaned over her, bracing his hands on the mattress. "What is wrong with you? You're paranoid. You're hysterical."

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"You're not fine," Julian said. "I called Dr. Halloway. He's coming tomorrow morning to do a full workup. Blood tests, everything."

Avery's blood ran cold. A blood test would reveal the pregnancy instantly.

"No," she said too quickly. "I just need sleep. I don't need a doctor."

"It wasn't a request," Julian said, straightening up. "You're representing this family. If you're sick, we fix it."

He turned and walked out.

Avery waited until she heard his door close down the hall. She grabbed her phone. Her fingers fumbled as she dialed.

"Hello?" A deep, sleepy voice answered.

"Sebastian," Avery breathed. "I need help."

There was a pause. Then the voice became alert. "Avery? What's wrong? Is it Julian?"

"I need a fake medical report," she whispered. "For the flu. Or exhaustion. Anything."

"Why?"

"Please. Just... don't ask."

She hung up, terrified Julian might be listening.

Downstairs, in the study, Julian was emptying the shredder bin. The maid had forgotten to do it, and he needed to destroy the merger documents he had been reviewing.

He pulled out the plastic bag full of paper strips. Something caught his eye. A cluster of strips that hadn't fallen properly, clinging to the blades. They were a different texture than his bond paper. Thinner. Medical grade.

He frowned. He reached in and pulled out a handful of confetti. He spread it on the desk.

It was a puzzle. A maddening, impossible puzzle. But one piece stood out.

...itive.

And another.

HCG.

Julian felt the air leave his lungs. He stared at the fragments.

Positive.

She was pregnant.

His first emotion wasn't joy. It was a dark, twisting fury. She knew. She had known, and she had shredded it. She was hiding it.

Why?

Because she didn't want it? Because she was planning to get rid of it?

He swept the papers off the desk. They fluttered to the floor like snow.

The sun hadn't even risen when the door burst open.

Avery was dragged out of sleep by a hand gripping her upper arm. Julian yanked her out of bed.

"Get dressed," he snarled.

"Julian! You're hurting me!" Avery stumbled, trying to find her footing.

He threw a handful of paper scraps at her face. They fluttered down onto the duvet.

"Explain this," he demanded.

Avery looked down. She saw the letters. HCG.

Her heart stopped.

"It's... it's old," she stammered. "From my annual checkup. It was a false alarm."

"Liar," Julian hissed. He grabbed her wrist, dragging her toward the door. "Dr. Halloway is too slow. We're going to the private clinic in Uptown. Now. I want the truth."

"No! Julian, please!"

He didn't listen. He marched her down the stairs, past a smirking Scarlett who was drinking coffee in the foyer, and shoved her into the passenger seat of his car.

He drove like a maniac. He didn't take her to the family hospital where she might have allies or privacy. He took her to a high-security private facility known for its absolute discretion-and its lock-down policies.

When they arrived, a man was waiting. Dr. Vance. A cold man who owed the Vanderbilt family everything.

Avery panicked.

"Just a blood draw, Mrs. Vanderbilt," Vance said, his eyes cold.

"No!" Avery backed into the counter. Her hand closed around a pair of surgical scissors left on a tray.

She raised them, pointing the blades at her own neck.

"Stay back!" she screamed. "Don't touch me!"

Julian froze. He looked at her-really looked at her. Her eyes were wild, filled with a terror so profound it shook him.

"Avery, put them down," he said, his voice wavering for the first time.

"You want the truth?" Avery cried, pressing the metal against her skin. A drop of blood welled up. "The truth is I hate you! I hate what you've done to me!"

"She's unstable, Julian," Vance said, stepping forward with the needle. "We should sedate her."

"Back off!" Julian roared at the doctor.

He looked at Avery. He saw a woman on the edge of a breakdown. He saw a woman who would rather bleed than let him near her.

A dark thought took root in his mind. She was this terrified of a test. Why? Unless... unless she had already done something to ensure the result would be negative? Unless she was trying to hide the fact that she had terminated it?

The thought made him sick. It made the world tilt on its axis.

"Fine," Julian said, his voice turning to ice. "We're leaving."

He turned his back on her. "You've made your point. You're crazy. Get in the car."

Avery lowered the scissors, her knees buckling. She had bought herself time. But at what cost?