I couldn’t stop crying as I drove aimlessly through the city, instead of going to the hotel. What for? Heron and Hannah were there. Hannah was Heron’s urgent matter—not me. How could he do this to me? I thought everything about us was real.
My hands trembled on the wheel, my vision blurred from the tears streaming down my face. I didn’t even see the tree until it was too late.
The crash jerked me forward, and pain shot through my body as the car came to a screeching halt. For a moment, everything went black.
When I woke up in the hospital, the sterile white ceiling stared back at me. My body ached, and the faint sound of monitors beeped in the background. A nurse appeared.
“How are you feeling, Ms. Miller?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat felt raw.
“You were in an accident,” she explained. “You hit a tree. It’s a miracle you survived.”
Her words started to blur, but then she said something that pulled me back to reality. “I’m so sorry… you lost the baby.”
The baby. Heron’s baby.
I stared blankly at the nurse, unable to form a single word. The world felt empty, hollow. Maybe it was better this way. He didn’t deserve to know, and now he never would.
Later that day, I returned home with a few bruises and a heavier heart. The house felt cold and unwelcoming as I walked through the door.
Heron arrived shortly after, his face etched with concern as he rushed toward me. “What happened? You’re hurt.”
“I slipped,” I lied, forcing my voice to remain steady.
His brow furrowed as he gently touched the bruise on my arm. “You need to be more careful, babe.” His voice was tender, and for a second, I almost believed him. Almost.
But then his phone lit up on the table. A message from Hannah flashed across the screen.
Heron glanced at it and immediately stood. “I need to take care of something urgent. I’ll be back later.”
I didn’t say anything as he grabbed his jacket and left. The door clicked shut, and the silence was deafening.
I sat there for what felt like hours before I made my decision. I couldn’t stay. Not after everything.
Packing was quick. I didn’t have the energy to think about what I was leaving behind. Clothes, personal items, memories—I shoved them into a bag with no plan, no idea of where I was going. All I knew was I couldn’t stay here any longer.
I dragged my suitcase to the waiting area, my body aching with every step. I was so focused on leaving that I almost didn’t notice the figure leaning casually against a sleek black car.
Damian. Heron’s rival mafia boss.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
He smirked, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Didn’t your brother tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Damian straightened, his smirk widening. “I’m the one you’re supposed to marry.”
I froze, the words sinking in. My brother’s proposal. The marriage arrangement I had reluctantly accepted. Was it him?
“You’re lying,” I whispered.
“Am I?” Damian tilted his head, his dark eyes studying me. “Marcus didn’t mention me? Interesting. But then you don't have a choice now, do you?”
