I dropped the carving knife on the granite counter with a loud clatter. I didn't stab him. I didn't scream. I just grabbed my coat and walked out the front door, ignoring Ryan’s confused shouts echoing down the hallway.
I drove straight to the steakhouse, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.
I pushed through the heavy oak doors of the restaurant and bypassed the hostess stand entirely. Damien sat in the private back booth, checking his watch.
"Where's the golden boy?" Damien asked, lifting his whiskey glass.
Tears finally spilled over my lower lashes. I slid into the leather seat opposite my brother and buried my face in my hands.
"He's not coming," I choked out.
Damien slammed his glass down. The amber liquid splashed over the rim, staining the white tablecloth.
"Who made you cry?" Damien demanded, his voice dropping an octave. "Did he put his hands on you?"
"Worse." I wiped my cheeks with the back of my wrist. "He told his friends I was unwanted trash. He's only staying with me because I'm pregnant. He thinks I'm trapped."
Silence stretched across the table.
I expected Damien to pull me into a hug. I expected soft words of comfort. Instead, he leaned forward, his eyes turning to absolute ice.
"Stop crying, Olivia," he commanded.
I blinked, dropping my hands. "What?"
"Tears are for victims. You are a Frost." Damien pointed a stern finger at me. "You built his career from nothing. If you can elevate him to an A-list celebrity, you can stomp him right back down to a D-list nobody."
A shudder wrecked my frame. "But the baby—"
"We can afford to raise this child," Damien interrupted, cutting off my panic. "You don't need a parasite attaching himself to our family just to play dad. We have the money. We have the power. You have me."
His harsh words acted like ice water on my face. The suffocating weight in my chest began to recede.
"You're right," I whispered.
"Break it off," Damien said. "Tonight. I'll have the legal team draft the termination papers for his agency contract tomorrow morning. We pull his funding. We pull his endorsements."
"I'm ending it right now." I grabbed my purse and stood up.
"I'll handle the bill," Damien said, waving me off. "Go handle your mess."
I marched out of the private room, my spine straight.
Ryan stood in the narrow hallway near the restrooms, his phone pressed to his ear. He hung up immediately when he saw me.
"Liv! What the hell was that?" he demanded. "You just walked out of the house!"
"We're done, Ryan."
He scoffed, adjusting his cuffs. "Don't be dramatic. Just because we had a minor miscommunication—"
"I heard the recording," I cut in. "From the bar. Lily Monroe brought it to my house."
The color drained from his face, leaving his skin a sickly gray. His jaw locked.
"So it's over," I said, stepping closer to him. "Pack your things and get out of my house. My lawyers will contact your agent tomorrow to terminate your contract with Frost Media."
I expected him to beg. I expected a pathetic apology.
Instead, a terrifyingly calm smile stretched across Ryan's face.
"You can't dump me, Olivia," he murmured.
"Watch me."
"Go ahead," Ryan challenged, stepping right into my personal space. "Announce our breakup. Tell the world. But the second you do, I'm going straight to the press."
"To say what? That you're a gold digger?"
"To say you used your capital to force me into a relationship."
My stomach dropped. "You're insane."
"I'll tell them you threatened to ruin my career if I didn't sleep with you," Ryan continued, his tone conversational and light. "I'll say your constant abuse drove me into severe depression. I have medical records for anxiety, Liv. The public will eat it up."
"Nobody will believe that lie."
"The internet loves a tragic victim." He tapped his temple. "If I accuse the mighty Frost family of exploiting a young actor, your company's stock will plummet. Your shareholders will riot."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me." Ryan smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket. "Go home, Liv. Rest up. We have a red carpet event on Friday, and you're going to smile for the cameras."
He bumped his shoulder against mine as he walked past me, heading for the main dining room.
Bile rose in my throat. I couldn't breathe in the stuffy hallway. I needed air.
I pushed open the rear exit door, stepping out into the cold alleyway behind the steakhouse.
Blinding white light exploded in my face.
"There she is!" a shrill voice screamed.
Camera flashes fired like strobe lights, disorienting me. I threw my hands up to shield my eyes.
A mob of people surged forward from the shadows. Teenagers with homemade signs. Men holding heavy cameras.
"Olivia! Is it true you're forcing Ryan to marry you?" a reporter shouted, shoving a microphone at my chin.
"Leave me alone!" I backed up against the brick wall.
"Lily posted the truth!" a young girl shrieked, her face contorted with rage. "You're a controlling bitch! You're ruining his life!"
They swarmed me. Hands grabbed at my coat. Fingers tangled in my hair.
"Get back!" I yelled, swatting away a camera lens.
"You don't deserve him!" another fan hollered.
Someone shoved me hard in the chest.
My shoes slipped on the damp pavement. I flailed, reaching for the wall, but my fingers found nothing but empty air.
I crashed backward.
My spine hit the concrete, followed immediately by a sharp, agonizing impact to my lower back and pelvis.
The world spun into a blur of flashing lights and angry faces.
"Keep taking pictures!" a voice commanded over the chaos.
I tried to push myself up on my elbows. A strange, wet warmth pooled between my thighs.
A sudden, violent cramp ripped through my abdomen. It felt like a serrated blade twisting inside my stomach.
I didn't scream. I just let out a bizarre, broken laugh.
The pain flared again, hotter and sharper this time.
I looked down.
Dark crimson stained the inside of my pale dress, spreading rapidly across the fabric.
"My baby," I gasped.
The paparazzi didn't stop. The shutters kept firing, capturing every drop of blood spilling onto the cold alley floor.
My vision faded at the edges, turning the screaming mob into hollow ghosts. The deafening noise of the crowd turned into a dull, underwater hum.
I was losing my child.
And as the darkness finally pulled me under, only one thought remained in my fading mind.
I was going to kill them all.
