Chapter 3

I stood at the window of my penthouse, watching the ambulance lights flash against the rain-slicked streets below. Nathan was being loaded onto a stretcher, his body limp, face ashen under the harsh emergency lights. Six hours. He had knelt in the downpour for six hours before collapsing. The paramedics moved with urgent efficiency, attaching monitors, starting IVs. Even from thirty floors up, I could see the steam of their breath in the cold air.

"Should I tell them you called?" Maya asked from behind me.

"I didn't call anyone," I replied, my voice flat despite the storm raging inside me.

"You were about to." She stepped closer, her reflection appearing beside mine in the glass. "I saw you reach for your phone three times."

"And retracted three times." I turned away from the window, unable to watch any longer. "If he wants to give himself pneumonia for publicity, that's his choice."

Maya's expression remained carefully neutral, but I caught the slight tightening around her eyes. "Of course. I'll handle the press inquiries."

As she left, I glanced at my tablet. The app showed Nathan's heart rate: 132, dangerously high for someone in his condition. I should feel triumphant. This was what I wanted—to see him suffer, to make him feel a fraction of the pain I'd endured. Instead, I felt hollow, a cavernous emptiness expanding beneath my ribs.

I poured myself a glass of scotch, the amber liquid catching the light as lightning flashed across the Seattle skyline. My phone buzzed with a text from Maya: *Ambulance en route to Seattle Memorial. Suspected hypothermia and exhaustion.*

I didn't respond. Instead, I turned on the television, only to immediately regret it.

"—exclusive interview with Victoria Walsh, who claims to have evidence that Nathan Sterling abandoned his unborn child to rekindle their relationship."

The camera cut to Victoria, looking delicate and wounded in a pale blue dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Her golden hair fell in soft waves around her face, and she dabbed at tears with a monogrammed handkerchief.

"I never wanted to come forward," she said, her voice trembling. "But seeing Isabella use their tragedy for this... this revenge campaign... I couldn't stay silent anymore."

The interviewer leaned forward, eager for blood. "You have recordings?"

Victoria nodded solemnly. "Nathan called me from the hospital that day."

The audio played, and though distorted, Nathan's voice was unmistakable: "*I can't do this anymore... the baby... I need to be with you... Isabella doesn't matter...*"

The glass slipped from my fingers, shattering on the hardwood floor. Scotch splashed across my bare feet, but I barely felt it. The room spun around me as Victoria's voice continued.

"I never meant to come between them, but Nathan and I have a connection that transcends—"

I shut off the TV, my hands shaking violently. My phone was already lighting up with notifications. The story was everywhere.

*BREAKING: Sterling's New Mistress Speaks Out*

*EXCLUSIVE: 'Isabella doesn't matter' - Sterling's Damning Call Revealed*

I sank to the floor, heedless of the broken glass. The pain I'd thought was sealed away erupted fresh, as if the miscarriage had happened yesterday instead of three years ago. I could still feel the hospital sheets beneath me, still smell the antiseptic, still hear the doctor's voice: "I'm sorry, Ms. Chen. We couldn't save her."

And now, to learn that while I was losing our daughter, Nathan was on the phone with Victoria...

My intercom buzzed. "Isabella." Maya's voice was tight with urgency. "We need to address this. The PR team is waiting for direction."

I pulled myself up, stepping carefully around the broken glass. "Tell them to prepare a statement. And find me someone who can analyze that audio recording. Something feels wrong."

"Already on it," Maya replied. "I've contacted Dr. Eliza Wright at the University. She's the best forensic audio analyst in the state."

I nodded, though Maya couldn't see me. Always one step ahead—that's why she was invaluable.

"Isabella," she added hesitantly, "there's something else. The hospital just called. Nathan's asking for you."

The request hung in the air between us, impossible and inevitable all at once.

"Tell them I'm unavailable," I said finally, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "Forever."

But as I ended the call, my eyes drifted to the tablet where Nathan's heart rate had finally stabilized. For a moment—just a moment—I wondered what would happen if I went to him. If I looked into his eyes and demanded the truth about that call.

Instead, I picked up a shard of broken glass, watching as it caught the lightning's flash. Some things, once shattered, can never be made whole again.