Alyssa Bolton POV:
The door to my bedroom opened without a knock. It was Chase. He looked tired, but his expression was firm. "We need to talk, Alyssa." He didn't wait for an answer, instead, he gestured for me to follow him.
I stayed rooted to the spot, arms crossed. "I have nothing to say to you, Chase."
Then I heard it. A soft, vulnerable cough from the living room. Indiana. She was still here, still in my home, still playing the victim.
"Indiana isn't feeling well," Chase said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "She's worried about the baby. She thinks you might be upset with her."
Upset? With her? The sheer audacity of it made me laugh, a hollow, bitter sound. "Worried about the baby? Or worried about her meal ticket?" I finally moved, walking past him, my gaze fixed on the living room.
Indiana was curled on the sofa, a blanket draped carefully over her, a glass of water on the table next to her. She looked up, her eyes wide and mournful. "Oh, Alyssa. Please don' t be angry. I just want what' s best for everyone."
"What's best for everyone?" I practically spat the words out. "Is that why you're still here? In my penthouse? My home?"
Chase stepped between us, his posture defensive. "Alyssa, enough. Indiana will be staying here for a while. It's Clementina's decision. For the baby's safety, and for the public image. It's crucial for the merger that she's seen as part of the family, especially with her... condition."
My jaw dropped. "She's moving in? You're letting her move into my home?"
Indiana gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk. "It's just until the merger is complete, Alyssa. We'll be like sisters! Sharing everything." Her eyes glittered with a malicious joy.
I stared at Chase, searching for some sign of dissent, some flicker of humanity. There was none. Only a stonewalled determination. "It's for the best, Alyssa. Think of the family. The company. We need to project stability."
My world tilted. My home, my sanctuary, was being invaded. My privacy, my sense of safety, shattered. Clementina, Chase, and now Indiana, were dismantling my life piece by piece.
"So, that's it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just supposed to accept this? Accept her living here, parading her fake pregnancy, while I'm locked away in my own home?"
Chase approached me, his hand reaching for mine. "It won't be forever. Just for a few months. Then everything will go back to normal. I promise. You and I, we'll sail around the world, just like we always planned. Our baby will be born, and we'll raise them together, away from all of this."
His words, once a comfort, now felt like a cruel mockery. I pulled my hand away. The "normal" he promised was a fantasy, a lie designed to keep me docile. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that nothing would ever go back to normal. My hope, once a burning ember, was now extinguished.
The days that followed blurred into a suffocating routine. I was confined to the master suite and an adjacent study, my movements monitored by the ever-present security detail. My phone had been confiscated, my internet access restricted. Indiana, on the other hand, reveled in her new role. She took over the main living areas, hosted "baby shower" themed brunches with Clementina, and filled the penthouse with the cheerful sounds of her social media shoots. Her laughter, always a little too loud, grated on my nerves.
One evening, I found her alone in the kitchen, meticulously arranging organic fruit on a platter. Chase was out, as he often was, finalizing "merger details."
"Indiana," I said, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside me. "We need to talk."
She turned, her carefully constructed innocence failing for a moment, replaced by a flash of annoyance. "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"
"I want to know what it will take for you to leave," I said, cutting straight to the point. "A sum. A deal. Name your price."
She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You think money can buy me off? Alyssa, darling, you clearly don't understand. This isn't just about money. It's about status. Power. And honestly? It's about winning." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Besides, your little secret? It' s not much of a bargaining chip. No one cares about a child that doesn' t exist, do they?"
The callousness of her words hit me hard. She knew about my pregnancy, of course, but her dismissal of my unborn child as "not existing" was a calculated cruelty.
