"You’re five weeks pregnant."
The ER doctor flipped his chart shut.
I stared at the sterile white blanket covering my legs. "Excuse me?"
"Your blood tests confirm it," the doctor said. "The scrapes on your hands are superficial, but you need to manage your stress levels for the baby."
He walked out, leaving me alone with Gerald Thorne.
Gerald stood by the window, his dark suit perfectly crisp despite the rain lashing against the glass. He didn't say a word.
I pressed a bandaged palm against my flat stomach. Five weeks. A month ago, Dennis had talked about buying a house in the suburbs. A lie. All of it. Now, his child was growing inside me.
"Are you going to tell him?" Gerald asked, his voice cutting through the quiet room.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"Do not be foolish, Laura."
I needed water. I needed to think. I slipped out of the bed and walked down the quiet corridor toward the vending machines.
"Well, isn't this perfect timing."
I spun around. Amy stood near the stairwell, her arms crossed over her designer blouse.
"How did you find me?" I demanded.
"Dennis's security app," Amy sneered, tapping her phone screen. "He wanted me to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. But I overheard the nurses at the front desk. A baby, Laura? Really?"
"Get away from me, Amy."
She stepped closer, her eyes flashing with venom. "Dennis doesn't want you. He told me you were just a cheap bet. You think a baby is going to trap him?"
"I don't want him," I said, turning away. "And this is none of your business."
"It is my business!" Amy shrieked.
She lunged forward, her fingers clawing into my hospital gown.
"Let go of me!" I shouted, trying to pry her hands off.
"You're not ruining my life!"
Amy ripped her own collar down, exposing her shoulder. Then she shoved me backward with all her strength.
My feet tangled. The edge of the top stair caught my heel. I tumbled backward, slamming hard onto the concrete landing below. Sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my abdomen.
Above me, Amy screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help! She attacked me! She went crazy!"
Warm liquid pooled between my legs. The edges of my vision turned black.
***
"Laura. Look at me."
I blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights. The ER doctor stood over me again. His face was grim.
"The trauma was too severe," he said softly. "I'm so sorry. You lost the pregnancy."
He waited for me to cry. I didn't. I just stared at the ceiling tiles. One of them had a water stain shaped like a skull.
"Do you need a sedative?" the doctor asked.
"No," I replied, my voice completely hollow. "I need you to leave."
The door clicked shut.
I didn't sob. I didn't scream. A dry, scraping chuckle escaped my throat instead. Dennis took my time, my career, and my dignity. Now, his new girlfriend had taken the last remaining piece of my future.
The door slammed open.
"Where is she?" Adam roared.
My older brother stormed into the room, his team jacket soaked with rain. Gerald Thorne followed right behind him, his expression icy.
Adam rushed to my bedside. "Laura. My God. What happened? Dennis said you attacked Amy and fell down the stairs."
"Dennis is a liar," Gerald stated plainly from the doorway.
Adam whipped his head around. "Mr. Thorne? What are you talking about? Dennis is my best friend."
"Your best friend is a parasite," Gerald countered. He tossed a thick manila folder onto the foot of my bed. "I ran a background check. For three years, your sister managed his social media, covered up his scandals, and built his entire public persona."
Adam stared at the folder, then at me. "Laura? Is this true?"
I nodded slowly. "We were dating, Adam. For three years."
"And today," Gerald continued, his tone merciless, "she caught him having sex with your assistant, Amy, in the training facility locker room."
Adam's jaw dropped. The color drained from his face. "He told me he was doing extra drills."
"He was," Gerald mocked. "Just not on the field. I had my security team pull the surveillance footage from the hallway. Dennis stood guard while your assistant went inside."
Adam's face twisted in horror. "For three years? He sat at my dinner table. He drank my beer. He called you a crazy fan, Laura. And I believed him."
"He needed you to believe him," Gerald stated. "You are his star striker. Without your passes, he scores nothing. He manipulated both of you."
"But the stairs," Adam stammered, turning back to me. "Amy said you went crazy."
"Amy pushed me," I said flatly. "She found out I was pregnant."
Adam froze. His large hands gripped the metal bedrail so hard his knuckles turned white. "Pregnant?"
"Not anymore," I whispered.
A terrifying silence filled the hospital room.
Adam didn't yell. He didn't throw a punch at the wall. The betrayal sank deep into his bones, shifting his shock into pure, calculated rage.
"He killed my niece," Adam said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Or my nephew."
"Yes," Gerald agreed. "And he used your family to elevate his career."
"I'm going to rip his head off," Adam swore, turning toward the door.
"Stop," I ordered.
Adam paused, looking back at me with wild eyes. "Laura, he destroyed you."
"Which is why I get to destroy him," I said, sitting up slowly. The pain in my stomach was a dull throb, grounding me.
"Dennis just posted on his fan page," Gerald mentioned, checking his phone. "He's hosting a press conference at eight o'clock tonight. He plans to announce Amy as his official girlfriend to clear up the 'locker room rumor'."
Adam scoffed. "He thinks he can just spin this?"
"He always spins it," I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "Because I always wrote the script."
"You should rest," Gerald advised, though a dark gleam of approval shone in his eyes.
"I'll rest when Dennis Miller has nothing left," I replied. I looked up at the billionaire owner of the club. "You said you wanted to offer me a job."
Gerald smirked. "I did."
"Does the offer still stand?"
"It does." Gerald stepped closer, pulling a sleek black phone from his suit pocket and handing it to me. "What is your first move, Laura?"
I gripped the phone tight. "Take me to that press conference."
