After the confrontation in the study, Alex hadn't turned her in to the police, but his silence was far more terrifying. He had simply taken the DuPont folder from her trembling hands and ordered her to her room, his eyes filled with a new, dangerous level of contempt.
Now, Nicole sat on a stone bench in the far corner of the garden, tucked away behind a weeping willow. She was still wearing the silk slip she'd slept in, a thin robe wrapped tightly around her. The morning air was sharp, biting at her skin, but she didn't care.
The weight of it all was finally crushing her. Victoria had the hormone bottle. Alex thought she was a corporate spy. And somewhere deep inside her, the two lives she was contracted to create were growing in a world of ice and secrets.
She put her face in her hands and let the first sob break. It wasn't a delicate, cinematic cry. it was the sound of a woman who was drowning in a gilded cage.
"Crying won't change the terms of the agreement, Nicole."
The voice was like a bucket of frozen water. Nicole gasped, wiping her face frantically as she stood up. Alex was standing a few feet away, dressed in a charcoal-grey suit, looking perfectly composed. Not a hair was out of place. He looked like a man who had slept eight hours, not a man who had caught his wife stealing state secrets at 2:00 AM.
"I didn't hear you come out," Nicole whispered, her voice thick and raspy.
Alex stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. He studied her puffy eyes and red nose with an expression of pure disdain. "You look pathetic. If you think tears will make me forget that I caught you rifling through my private files, you're mistaken. I bought your debt, Nicole. I didn't buy a theater performance."
"I wasn't performing," she snapped, a spark of anger cutting through her grief. "I was tired. I was overwhelmed. Does that even compute in your head, or do you have a motherboard instead of a heart?"
Alex's jaw tightened. He stepped into her personal space, forcing her to look up at him. "What I have is a business to protect. You were holding a confidential merger file. I should have handed you to the authorities last night."
Nicole looked away. She desperately wanted to tell him about Victoria. She wanted to say: Your -lover is blackmailing me with our secret medical records. But she remembered Victoria's smug face. Victoria was "one of them." Nicole was an outsider. If she accused Victoria, Alex would likely assume Nicole was lying to cover her own tracks.
"Why didn't you?" Nicole asked quietly. "Why didn't you call the police?"
Alex reached out, his gloved hand gripping her chin and forcing her gaze back to his. "Because you are carrying my heirs. For now, your womb is more valuable than my secrets. But don't mistake my patience for mercy.
He released her chin as if he had touched something unpleasant. "Go inside. Wash your face. The stylist will be here in an hour to prepare you for the afternoon."
"The afternoon? For what?"
"A public appearance," Alex said, checking his watch. "We are visiting the Sterling Children's Wing at the hospital. You will look happy. You will look healthy. And most importantly, you will look like you adore me."
"Really?she whispered.
Alex paused, a small, cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'm a Sterling, Nicole. In this world, there is no difference.
The rest of the morning was a blur of forced beauty. Stylists poked at her hair, painted over the dark circles under her eyes, and squeezed her into a high-waisted cream dress that subtly hinted at her condition.
As Nicole sat in the back of the Bentley next to Alex, the silence between them was heavy enough to choke her. They reached the hospital, and the transformation was instant. The moment the car door opened, Alex reached over and took her hand. His touch was firm, almost possessive, but to the flashing cameras of the paparazzi, it looked like the gesture of a protective husband.
"Smile, Nicole," he muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on the lenses. "Every second you look miserable, my stock price drops a point."
She plastered a fake smile on her face, her heart aching. They walked through the halls, shaking hands with donors and smiling at children. It was a grotesque play, and she was the lead actress.
Halfway through the tour, Nicole felt a sudden, sharp chill. Standing near the entrance of the pediatric ward was Victoria. She wasn't part of the official party, but as a "friend of the foundation," she had every right to be there.
Victoria didn't say a word. She simply stood by a water fountain, watching them. When Nicole's eyes met hers, Victoria reached into her small designer purse and pulled out a familiar orange object. She held the hormone bottle up just long enough for Nicole to see it, then vanished into the crowd of nurses.
Nicole stumbled, her vision blurring.
"Watch your step," Alex said, his arm snaking around her waist to steady her. To the crowd, he was being a hero. To Nicole, his grip felt like a shackle.
"I... I need some air," Nicole whispered.
"You'll get air when we're finished," Alex replied, his voice a low warning.
But Nicole wasn't listening. Her stomach gave a violent lurch. It wasn't just the stress; it was the hormones, the morning sickness, and the pure terror of Victoria's looming threat. She turned away from the cameras, barely making it to a trash bin before she was sick.
The cameras went wild. The "Ice King's Bride" was showing signs of pregnancy in public. It was the headline of the century.
Alex moved quickly, shielding her from the view of the press with his coat. He looked down at her, and for a split second, the anger in his eyes was replaced by something else—a flash of genuine concern.
"Get the car," Alex barked at his security.
He lifted Nicole into his arms, carrying her through the hospital. For a moment, buried against his chest, Nicole felt safe. The scent of his expensive cologne and the steady beat of his heart made her want to believe the lie.
But as they reached the car and he slid her into the seat, the mask returned. He simply pulled out his phone and began typing.
"The doctor will be at the mansion by the time we arrive," Alex said coldly. "We need to ensure the heirs weren't stressed by your little scene."
"I'm sorry I'm such an inconvenience to your schedule," Nicole said, leaning her head against the window.
"You're not an inconvenience, Nicole," Alex said, finally looking at her. " I don't like seeing my investments bleed."
***
When they arrived back at the mansion, a black sedan was already parked in the driveway. A man in a dark suit stood by the door, holding a medical bag. But it wasn't the family doctor Nicole had met before.
"Who is that?" Nicole asked, sensing something wrong.
Alex gripped the door handle, his expression unreadable. "That is Dr. Aris. He specializes in high-risk, high-secrecy cases. He's here to make sure you stay compliant."
As they stepped out, the doctor approached. He didn't look at Nicole's face; he looked straight at her stomach.
"Mr. Sterling," the doctor said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "We have a problem. The laboratory just called. There was a discrepancy in the blood work from the gala."
Nicole felt the world tilt.
"What discrepancy?" Alex demanded.
The doctor glanced at Nicole, then back at Alex. "It appears the hormone levels are rising too fast. Far too fast. If we don't intervene now, you might not just lose the heirs—you might lose the mother too."
Alex's grip on Nicole's arm tightened so hard she gasped. He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for the first time, not with hate, but with a terrifying, primal desperation.