Chapter 3

Back at the company, Mia rushed over the moment I walked in.

"Ms. Shaw, public opinion online is exploding.

"Our company's stock price has dipped slightly," she reported, her tone urgent.

"Figures," I said, my tone cool and unfazed.

I kicked off my high heels and stepped barefoot onto the soft carpet. "Tell the PR team to gear up. Tomorrow's going to be a tough fight."

"Yes, Ms. Shaw," Mia responded.

She hesitated for a beat before adding, "Ms. Shaw, you don't look well. Should I call a doctor?"

I rubbed my temples, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach.

"No, it's an old issue," I said, brushing her off.

Probably just exhaustion from the past few weeks catching up to me.

Mia said no more, quietly backing out of the office.

I sat alone, staring out the window at the bustling traffic below.

My phone rang then, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

I answered it.

"Victoria, what do you want from me?" Adam's voice came through, tired and seething with anger.

I retorted, my tone icy, "That's the question I should be asking you.

"Is your plan to destroy me, wreck Shaw Enterprises, and then ride off into the sunset with your precious Claire?"

Silence hung on the other end of the line.

I added, "Forget it. That's never going to happen."

"Victoria, just let Claire be. His voice softened, laced with desperation. "She just had heart surgery; she can't handle any more stress."

I retorted, "So she can't take it, but I'm supposed to just suck it up?

"Did you ever stop to think about how your press conference would affect me?"

"I..." Adam faltered, unable to get the words out.

I snapped, my voice cold as ice, "Adam, cut the crap with your pathetic logic. I never let anyone get the best of me. If you mess with me, I'll make sure your whole family pays."

"You wouldn't dare!" Adam shot back, his voice trembling.

"We'll see," I replied, hanging up the phone without another word.

The nausea worsened, and I stumbled into the bathroom, retching violently.

Nothing came up but acid, burning my throat.

I propped myself up against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

My face was as pale as a ghost, and my lips were bloodless.

A terrifying thought crossed my mind: my period had been late for weeks.

I called Mia and told her to buy a pregnancy test.

Fifteen minutes later, I stared at the two bright red lines on the stick.

All the blood seemed to drain from my body in an instant.

I was pregnant with Adam's child.

The child of the man who'd betrayed me, hurt me, and wished I were dead.

This baby couldn't have come at a worse time.

I sat on the toilet for what felt like hours, until my legs went numb.

Finally, I pulled out my phone and dialed my private doctor. "Dr. Williams," I said, my voice steady, no emotion in it.

"Dr. Williams, book me for surgery. An abortion. The soonest possible," I said.

Ryan Williams paused on the other end, clearly stunned. "Ms. Shaw, a-are you... are you sure about this?"

I replied flatly, "I'm sure. Something that shouldn't exist doesn't deserve to stay."

"Alright, I'll get it arranged right away," Ryan replied.

After hanging up, I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror again.

The woman staring back had eyes so calm they were terrifying.

This was what Adam owed me.

I'd make him watch as his own child was erased from my body.

I'd make him learn the cost of betraying me.

That night, Adam came back.

He was drunk, reeking of alcohol, and stumbled into the house.

He rushed over to me, grabbing my shoulders so hard it hurt.

"Victoria! Why did you go to the hospital?" he shouted, his eyes bloodshot, like a cornered beast.

"Were you following me?" I asked.

"Answer me! What were you doing at the hospital?" Adam demanded.

I looked at him, all crazed and out of control, and honestly, it was almost laughable.

"Whatever I do, it's got nothing to do with you. We're about to get divorced. Adam, what makes you think you have any right to question me now?" I said coldly.

"I... I was just worried about you," he stammered, his anger fading into awkwardness.

I laughed again, a harsh, mocking sound. "Worried about me?

"Or worried about the baby in my stomach?"

Adam flinched hard, like he'd just been slapped in the face.

He stared at me, stunned, his gaze dropping straight to my stomach.

"W-What did you just say? You're pregnant?" Adam stammered, barely able to get the words out.

His voice trembled, a mix of shock, joy, and fear.

I said, placing a hand on my stomach and smiling softly, "Yep, I'm pregnant. Too bad he won't be around much longer.

"I went to the hospital today to book an abortion.

"Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock—same time as the Shaw Enterprises press conference you're so fixated on."

Adam's face turned as white as a sheet.

He stood there, stunned, like he'd just been hit by a bolt of lightning.

"No... No, you can't... you can't..." he muttered, his voice trembling.

Suddenly, Adam cried out, his voice breaking with desperation, "Victoria, you can't do this!"

He lunged forward, trying to hug me, but I stepped back, avoiding him.

I asked, my smile fading, "Why not? Adam, you already gave up this baby for Claire. A child who's not wanted, not acknowledged by his father. Why should he be born?"

Adam shouted, shaking his head wildly, "No! I didn't! I didn't know! If I'd known..."

"If you'd known, you'd leave Claire and come back to me, be a good father?" I cut him off, my voice sharp.

Adam opened his mouth, desperate to say something, but not a single word came out.

How could he choose between the woman he'd pined for for years, or the child he'd just found out about with his enemy?

I stared at his pained, conflicted face, feeling nothing but indifference.

I said, breaking the silence, "Adam, I don't need you to choose. I've already chosen for you. Tomorrow morning at ten, you have two options.

"Either you show up at the Shaw family press conference, apologize to me in front of all the media, set the record straight, and cut all ties with Claire. Or you can wait to collect your child's body."

I handed the choice back to him, this time with his own flesh and blood as the stake.

I watched him stumble backward, hitting the wall, and slide down to the floor.

He gripped his head, letting out a hoarse cry, the desperate sound of something trapped and wounded.

I knew he'd choose. No matter what he picked, I'd already won this game.