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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: The Ultimatum

Cassie didn't sleep that night.

She lay on her bed, fully dressed, staring at the ceiling of her penthouse apartment with the city lights casting fractured shadows on the walls. Her phone sat on the nightstand, screen dark, but the weight of it felt heavier than stone. Julian Thorne's business card lay untouched beside it—mocking her.

Marry me, or give me my child.

What kind of man says that with such calm finality?

What kind of man *means* it?

Every cell in her body still buzzed with adrenaline. Her thoughts looped endlessly—how did this happen? How had everything spiraled out of control in just a single day?

Her body still carried the warm ache of realization: she was pregnant. Really, truly pregnant. But now, the miracle she wanted so badly was tainted with chaos. And Julian Thorne.

The man she despised.

The man who now had a legal claim over her unborn child.

Cassie curled onto her side, her arms wrapping protectively around her stomach. She was only weeks along, but suddenly she felt the weight of the life inside her like gravity.

She wanted this child.

That part had never changed.

But now, it came with conditions—and a man who didn't believe in love.

---

By morning, her resolve had sharpened—but so had her anxiety.

Cassie dressed in silence, choosing a dark green sheath dress and a tailored black coat. She pinned her hair into a smooth chignon and wore no jewelry—nothing soft. Nothing that could be mistaken for weakness.

When the Maybach pulled up outside her building, she was already waiting on the sidewalk.

She stepped in without hesitation.

Julian Thorne barely looked up from his phone. "Ms. Lin."

"Cut the small talk," she said, settling across from him. "Let's get to it."

He set his phone aside and studied her for a moment. "I admire your efficiency."

"And I resent your manipulation."

"Honesty. Even better."

Cassie clenched her jaw. "I'm not marrying you."

He tilted his head. "I expected defiance. But I also expect logic. You're not just pregnant—you're in the middle of a legal firestorm. If this goes public, the damage to your inheritance, your fiancé, and your reputation will be… significant."

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"But perception matters more than truth."

His words chilled her. Because he was right.

Cassie leaned forward. "So what do you want? Really?"

Julian's eyes narrowed. "You're carrying my heir. I want legal assurance. I want to control the narrative. And I don't trust you—or Nathan Graham—to keep this quiet without incentive."

She laughed bitterly. "You think I'd sell a story to the press?"

"No. But I think Nathan would."

Her expression hardened.

He wasn't wrong about that either. Nathan had always been more ambitious than loyal.

"And marriage solves that?" she asked.

Julian nodded once. "A legal marriage blocks scandal. It legitimizes the child. And it binds you to me—until the child is born, at least."

Her stomach twisted. "So what is this? A temporary arrangement? Like some twisted business merger?"

"If you prefer, we can sign a contract with a fixed term. One year. Prenup included. No expectations beyond public appearances."

"No intimacy?"

His lips twitched. "Not unless you ask nicely."

She glared at him.

Julian leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You can fight me. And I promise, I will win. I have better lawyers, better reach, and more at stake."

Cassie's voice was ice. "You mean your reputation."

He didn't deny it.

The car pulled into an underground garage. A private elevator waited.

Julian gestured. "You said you wanted answers. Come see what you're really walking into."

Cassie hesitated—then followed.

The elevator rose silently. The doors opened to a penthouse even colder than she expected. Dark marble, minimalist furniture, no photos. No warmth.

He lived like a man who didn't want to be remembered.

Julian gestured toward a chair by the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Sit."

She remained standing.

"Are you always this cooperative?" he asked dryly.

"Are you always this charming?"

Julian smirked slightly and walked to a sideboard. He poured her a glass of sparkling water, handed it over without a word.

Then: "Tell me what you want."

Cassie stared at him. "Excuse me?"

He folded his arms. "What do you want, Cassie? Really. If we take out Nathan, the inheritance, the headlines—what is it you're fighting for?"

She didn't answer right away. Her hands trembled around the glass.

"I want to protect my child," she said finally. "That's all."

Julian's gaze lingered on her longer this time. Something flickered behind his eyes—something unreadable.

"Then we're on the same side."

She shook her head. "No, we're not. You think control equals care. That's not the same as love."

"I don't believe in love," he said simply. "But I do believe in protecting what's mine."

Cassie turned away, staring at the skyline.

"You don't get to call this child yours just because of biology," she said. "I'm the one carrying them. I'm the one changing everything for them."

"And I'm the one making sure you don't do it alone."

Silence stretched between them.

"I'm not weak," she said finally.

"I never said you were."

She faced him fully. "If I agree to this marriage, I set the terms."

Julian raised a brow. "Go on."

"No public announcements for the first trimester. No joint interviews. No shared finances. I keep my business. I keep my name."

He nodded slowly. "Done."

"And if I want out—"

"You walk. The prenup will protect both of us."

Cassie swallowed hard.

It was everything she had asked for. And yet… it still felt like a trap.

Julian moved to a drawer and pulled out a slim folder. "The draft contract. Read it. Have your lawyer look at it. You have forty-eight hours."

She took the folder without a word, her heart pounding in her ears.

As she turned to leave, Julian spoke again—his voice lower, unreadable.

"I'm not the villain you think I am, Cassie."

She didn't look back.

"Maybe," she said quietly. "But I'm not the girl you think I am either."

---

Back at her apartment, Cassie paced the floor in silence. The folder sat unopened on the dining table like a live wire.

She should be calling Nathan. Explaining. Apologizing, maybe.

But she couldn't. Not yet.

There was a knock on the door.

Cassie flinched, heart jumping. She crossed the room and opened it—

Only to find a man in a gray suit and glasses standing in the hallway, holding a thick envelope.

"Miss Lin?" he asked.

"Yes?"

He handed over the envelope. "From Mr. Graham. He asked me to deliver it personally."

Before she could respond, the man turned and left.

Cassie tore open the envelope.

Inside: a letter. And a check.

The letter read:

Cassie,

I heard what happened. You've embarrassed me beyond belief.

We're done.

Keep the baby if you want. I'm not interested.

Consider this compensation for the trouble.

— Nathan

The check was made out for $250,000.

Cassie stared at it, numb. Her fingers curled into fists, crushing the paper.

So this was how it ended.

Not with a conversation. Not with understanding.

With a buyout.

A bribe.

Tears stung her eyes—but she didn't let them fall.

Instead, she walked to the kitchen, pulled out a lighter, and watched the check burn.

As the ashes curled into smoke, Cassie turned toward the table where Julian's contract still sat.

Her phone buzzed.

A single message:

You have forty hours left. —J.T.

She picked up the folder.

And opened it.

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