Chapter 4
This time, the hiding place was a safety deposit box at a private bank.
According to my son's intel, Tavian would stash the share transfer documents and the key to the safety deposit box inside a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude on the third floor of the city library.
I got to the library ahead of time.
My heart was pounding. I was nervous and excited all at once.
I picked a spot where I could watch that row of shelves, opened a book to look casual, but honestly, all my attention was glued to One Hundred Years of Solitude.
At three in the afternoon, a man in a black trench coat, mask, and sunglasses appeared in my line of sight, right on schedule.
He was tall and imposing, and even with all that gear, you could still feel his powerful presence.
It was Tavian.
My breath hitched, and cold sweat instantly broke out on my palms.
He strode right up to the shelf, pulled out One Hundred Years of Solitude with practiced ease, tucked a thin manila envelope and a key inside, then slid the book back into place.
The whole thing was seamless, and no one noticed a thing.
Without a second glance, he turned to go.
There was no way I was letting him walk out of here.
I took a deep breath, mustered up all my courage, and got to my feet. "Wait."
My voice wasn't loud, but in the hushed library, it cut through the silence like a knife.
Tavian stopped in his tracks.
He turned around slowly. Even if he wore those shades, I could feel his eyes lock onto me.
I could practically sense his gaze pause on my baby bump for a split second.
For that one second, it was like my heart was about to blow up.
"Got something to say?" Tavian asked, his voice colder than I'd expected, with a subtle, husky undertone.
I clenched my fists and took slow, deliberate steps toward him. "Mr. Sterling, I think we should talk."
I looked him right in the eye, even through his sunglasses, doing my best to sound calm.
He didn't reply. He kept his gaze fixed on me.
The air was thick with tension, almost suffocating.
People around us cast impatient glances our way.
"This isn't the right place," Tavian finally said, his voice low and steady. "Come with me."
I followed him out of the library and slipped into a Maybach waiting at the curb.
The car was roomy, the air tinged with a faint scent of fir.
The driver quietly raised the partition.
With the divider up, it was only the two of us alone in the enclosed space.
My hands fidgeted nervously, not sure where to rest.
"Go ahead. What do you want to talk about?" Tavian reclined in his seat and slipped off his sunglasses.
Finally, I got a clear look at his face.
He had strong, angular brows, bright eyes, a high nose bridge, and thin lips.
He looked even more handsome than in the magazines, but his complexion was pale, and there were faint dark circles under his eyes. He seemed worn out.
"Did you get rid of those things?" I asked bluntly.
"Yes," Tavian replied, his answer crisp and to the point.
"Why?" I pushed.
Tavian fell silent.
The tension in the car was so thick that I could barely breathe.
"Mom, stop pushing him. He gets his own struggles," my son's words suddenly rang out in my head, desperate and earnest.
My heart skipped a beat. Could there really be something going on beneath the surface?
"Linnea," Tavian finally spoke up, his voice tinged with a complicated emotion I couldn't quite decipher. "Just know, all of that was meant for you."
"I don't need it," I replied stubbornly. "I can support my child myself."
"Are you sure?" Tavian arched an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on my belly. "Do you really think you can give him the best life on your own?"
His question left me speechless.
Honestly, if Tavian hadn't been there, I might've ended up jumping off some building with my kid.
"Take it," Tavian said, pushing a sleek black cardholder toward me. "No password, unlimited credit."
"I don't want it," I nearly shouted, pushing the cardholder right back at him.
I didn't want this vague, unexplained charity.
"What do you really want from me?" I stared at him, my eyes rimmed with tears. "If you think you can just buy off your own child with money, let me tell you. It's never going to happen."
He watched my outburst, his gaze growing deeper and more thoughtful.
"I never thought that," Tavian replied.
"What are you really after? Just tell me why," I demanded.
"I..." Tavian looked like he wanted to say something, but all he did was let out a sigh. "Linnea, now's not the time."
"What do you mean, 'not the time'?" I was completely infuriated by his vague, evasive attitude.
"Mom, calm down. Seriously, if you keep pushing him, he's going to run." My son's frantic warnings echoed in my head, begging me to back off.
But I couldn't hold myself back anymore. "Tavian, you have to give me an answer today. If you don't, then I'll—"
"And what are you going to do?" Tavian cut me off, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.
"I'll go to the press and tell everyone I'm pregnant with the child of Tavian, the city's richest man," I blurted out recklessly, threatening without thinking.
I knew it was foolish, but it was the only way I could think of to make him tell the truth.
Tavian's expression turned stone-cold in an instant.
The temperature in the car seemed to drop to freezing.
I saw his lips press into a thin line, his jaw clenched tight.
I was screwed. I really pissed him off this time.
Panic and despair crashed over me.
"Mom, you really messed up. Dad absolutely hates being threatened." My son's voice was practically shaking with panic.
Just when I thought Tavian was about to throw me out of the car, he suddenly laughed.
It was a strange laugh, part self-mockery, part helplessness, and maybe even something almost tender.
"Alright," Tavian said. "Go ahead, and tell whoever you want. I'll be here to see it."
With that, he leaned in, his warm breath brushing against my ear. "But before you go telling anyone, shouldn't you move in and live with me first? After all, you're my fiancée, aren't you?"