Chapter 4

I settled into a hotel for the time being.

The next morning, I went to the bank and withdrew everything from the debit card my mom had left me.

Then, I took all that money, plus my own savings and the cash from selling everything yesterday, and moved it all into a brand new account.

Once that was done, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number.

A timid voice came through the receiver. "Excuse me. Is this Mia Scott? It's Yvette White."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised she'd actually reached out to me. "What do you want?"

"Mia, I'm so sorry. I really had no idea William took such important money from you guys. I've caused you so much trouble."

She sounded like she was about to cry, all helpless and pitiful. "Please, don't fight with William, okay? It's all my fault. I swear I'll pay you back."

I almost laughed out loud. What a performance.

"Pay me back? With what?" I drawled, my tone slow and mocking. "Your escort money? Even charging top rates, you'd be spreading your legs for years to make that back. Or do you really think William's going to keep bankrolling you?"

There was silence on the other end.

After a few seconds, she finally spoke up, her voice trembling with tears and defiance. "I'll work myself to the bone. Two jobs, three if I have to. I'll pay you back if it kills me.

"Mia, please. Don't let me come between you and William."

"You didn't ruin anything. He managed that all by himself," I cut her off, a sly amusement in my voice. "Yvette, do you really believe William loves you that much? That he'd do anything for you?"

She stayed silent, but that silence spoke volumes.

I continued, "Let me make it clear. He doesn't love you. He loves the version of himself that rescued you. He thrives on playing the hero, soaking up your gratitude like some saint. You're nothing more than a prop for his ego trip."

"No way. William isn't like that." Yvette protested, her voice rising with urgency.

"Is that so?" I smirked. "Guess we'll see soon enough."

After hanging up, I gazed out at the busy city streets, my smile growing colder and colder.

I believed it wouldn't be long before Yvette realized how worthless a man's cheap love and sympathy were when he lost everything.

That afternoon, I was about to head out to meet Jason and talk over the transfer stuff when a sudden, stabbing pain hit me in the gut.

The pain was fast and fierce, like a thousand needles twisting inside. Cold sweat broke out all over me, and my vision kept going dark.

I steadied myself against the wall, managed to sit on the edge of the bed, and reached for my phone to call William.

But just as I was about to hit call, I froze.

What was wrong with me? Why was I still expecting anything from him?

I took a deep breath, deleted his number, and dialed 911 instead.

As I waited for the ambulance, the pain tightened, wave after wave. It felt like something inside me was falling, dropping away.

I glanced down and saw a bright red trail streaming down my leg, soaking the hotel's pristine white carpet. My ears rang. My mind emptied.

My baby.

Just before I blacked out, I barely managed to give the paramedics the hotel address and my name as they burst through the door.

When I came to, I was in the hospital.

The scent of antiseptic filled my nose, and there was an IV in my arm, cool fluid coursing through my veins.

A nurse noticed my eyes open and approached the bed, her voice soft. "You're awake? You've had a miscarriage, so you need to take it easy. We haven't been able to reach your family. Is there someone else we can call for you?"

The word "miscarriage" landed like three poisoned daggers, sinking deep into my heart.

I gazed up at the ceiling in a daze, my tears slipping down, silent and unnoticed.

I gave up my career, my looks, everything for this baby. Every day, I walked on eggshells, choking down those bitter meds to keep the pregnancy safe, enduring needle after needle, all so he could come into this world safe and sound.

But now, he was gone. Because I didn't have the money. Because my husband took the money meant for our baby's surgery and handed it to another woman.

The pain in my chest was a thousand times worse than anything my body could feel. It was like being torn open and hollowed out, alive.