“If you’re going to push me, Katherine, at least have the courage to admit it.”
Chloe’s voice was a fragile, trembling whisper, but the smirk playing on her lips was pure venom.
We were standing at the top of the grand staircase. Below us, the foyer was empty.
Before I could even process her words, Chloe deliberately twisted her ankle and threw herself backward. She tumbled down the first few carpeted steps with a sharp, calculated scream.
“Chloe!”
The study doors flew open. Damon rushed out, his face pale with panic. He bypassed me completely, taking the stairs two at a time to gather Chloe into his arms.
“She… she didn’t mean to, Damon,” Chloe sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “I just asked her when she was finally moving out, and she got so angry…”
Damon’s head snapped up. His eyes locked onto me, burning with a hatred so intense it made my chest hollow out.
“You are disgusting,” he spat.
I stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at them.
I hadn’t touched her. I was standing three feet away. But I knew defending myself was useless.
I was only still in this house because Grandpa Salvatore had suffered a sudden heart attack the night I tried to leave. The estate had been locked down, and I was forced into the north wing guest room until he stabilized.
“I didn’t touch her,” I said calmly, my voice steady.
“Save your lies!” Damon roared, lifting Chloe into his arms. “If you ever come near her or Leo again, I will make you regret you were ever born.”
He carried her away, leaving me standing alone in the cold hallway.
Chloe’s torture was relentless. In front of Damon, she was a frightened bird. In private, she was a viper.
Whenever Damon was forced to speak to me regarding his grandfather’s medical updates, Chloe would suddenly scream from the other room. Leo had a "fever." Leo had a "nightmare." Leo needed Damon.
And Damon always ran to them.
But Chloe’s petty games were no longer my biggest concern.
My hand instinctively moved to my flat stomach.
I was pregnant.
I had taken the test two days ago. Two solid pink lines. A child created during a rare, quiet night a month ago when Damon had held me and whispered promises he clearly never meant.
I was planning to leave with my baby in secret. But yesterday, I caught Chloe slipping out of my guest room. She had gone through my bag. She had seen the prenatal vitamins.
She knew. And a biological Salvatore heir was the one thing that could ruin her perfect plan.
I didn't realize how far she would go to eliminate us until the next evening.
I was summoned to the dining room. Damon was pacing the floor, his jaw tight. Chloe was weeping hysterically on the sofa. Beside them stood Dr. Evans, a private physician on Damon’s payroll.
“What is going on?” I asked.
Damon stopped pacing and glared at me. “Leo is sick. He has a severe, sudden-onset blood disorder. His hemoglobin levels are crashing.”
I frowned. I had just seen the boy running around the gardens an hour ago.
“Dr. Evans says he needs an immediate, specialized blood transfusion to stabilize his organs,” Damon continued, his voice hard and commanding. “Leo has a rare blood type. The blood bank doesn't have it in stock.”
He took a step toward me.
“But you do.”
“You want my blood?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“It’s a simple extraction,” Dr. Evans interjected smoothly, not meeting my eyes. “Just a liter. It will save the boy’s life.”
I was in my first trimester. I was already severely anemic and physically broken from five years of secretly donating bone marrow to Damon. Losing a liter of blood right now would undoubtedly cause a miscarriage. It could kill me.
Earlier that afternoon, I had stood hidden behind the conservatory pillars and overheard Chloe speaking frantically on a burner phone.
“Keep your voice down,” she had hissed into the receiver. “Damon suspects nothing. He thinks Leo is his responsibility. He has no idea Leo is yours, Marcus. Just stay in hiding. Once I secure the Salvatore fortune, I’ll clear your warrants.”
Leo wasn’t even related to the Salvatores. He was the son of Marcus Thorne, a wanted fugitive. Chloe was using a criminal’s child to bleed me dry.
“No,” I said, taking a step back.
Damon’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“I said no. I am not giving him my blood.”
Chloe let out a loud, dramatic wail. “Katherine, please! I know you hate me, but he’s just a little boy! Don’t let my son die just to punish me!”
“Stop acting, Chloe,” I snapped, my patience finally snapping. I looked at Damon. “I can’t donate blood, Damon. I’m pregnant.”
The dining room fell dead silent.
For a fraction of a second, Damon’s expression froze. His eyes darted to my stomach.
But then, Chloe let out a bitter, tearful laugh.
“Pregnant?” Chloe sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “Damon, she’s lying. I saw her drinking wine just last week. She’s making this up just to watch my baby die!”
Damon’s brief moment of shock hardened into absolute disgust.
“You really have no bottom line, do you, Katherine?” he sneered, stepping into my personal space. “Faking a pregnancy? Using an unborn child as an excuse to let a three-year-old boy suffer?”
“I am not lying!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Take me to a real hospital! Have a real doctor test me! I am carrying your child, Damon!”
“Shut up!” Damon roared, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. “You are barren, Katherine. The doctors told us that three years ago. Did you think I forgot?”
My breath hitched.
I was barren because the aggressive bone marrow extractions I endured for him had destroyed my health. The pregnancy was a medical miracle.
But I couldn't tell him that. And even if I did, he wouldn't believe me.
“Damon, please,” I whispered, taking another step back as pure terror finally set in. “If you take my blood today, you will kill your own child.”
Damon’s face was a mask of pure ice. He didn’t feel an ounce of pity. He only saw the woman standing in the way of his savior’s happiness.
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Instantly, four massive bodyguards stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, blocking the exits. They surrounded me, their expressions blank.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I backed up until my spine hit the cold dining table.
“Damon, don't do this,” I pleaded, my hands instinctively covering my stomach.
Damon turned his back on me, walking over to gently wrap his arm around Chloe’s trembling shoulders.
“Drag her to the medical wing,” Damon ordered coldly, his voice devoid of any human emotion. “Draw her blood. I don't care what it takes.”
