Anabella Pov
The world outside my apartment window is a muffled hum, a difference to the roaring in my ears. I am home. But it doesn't feel like home.
The walls feel thin, the air too still. The silence is a physical weight, pressing down on me. I stare at the hospital discharge papers, a thick file full of medical jargon I don't understand, and the reality of Killian's words hits me all over again.
You should be staying with me now.
A scandal will come out. The media will attack you.
The stress won't be good for your health.
His voice, a low, commanding growl, echoes in my head. He thinks he's a savior, but I feel like a prisoner.
A terrifying, helpless sensation curls in my gut, a physical manifestation of the knowledge that my life is no longer my own. Every word he spoke in that hospital room is branded onto my brain, replaying on a loop.
My phone feels heavy in my hand. I have no job, no money, and a secret that could destroy me. I am on the verge of a breakdown. My entire life has become a bad joke.
A real-life episode of "What Not to Wear... or Who Not to Sleep With." The punchline is me, pregnant, unemployed, and apparently, being stalked by a billionaire. The tears that have been threatening all day finally spill over. I can't do this alone. I dial the only number I know will answer.
"Claire?" My voice cracks, a pitiful, broken sound. "Please, I... I need you."
"Bella? Oh my God, what's wrong? Are you okay? Did you... have you been discharged from the hospital? Is it..." she trails off, her voice laced with a thick layer of panic. "What's going on?"
"I'm home," I choke out. "It's worse. I'm... I can't... I can't breathe."
"I'm on my way," she says, her voice calm and firm, a lifeline in my stormy sea. "Give me twenty minutes. Just breathe, Bella. I'm coming. Don't do anything drastic. And for the love of all that is holy, don't open the door for a billionaire."
I hang up, my hand shaking. Twenty minutes. I need to get it together. My apartment is a testament to my mental state, a coffee mug with a dead cockroach, clothes are scattered on the floor from my frantic attempts to find something to wear, and my laptop is on the kitchen table, still open to a spreadsheet of numbers that feel utterly meaningless now.
I practically run to the bathroom, the cold tile floor a small comfort under my bare feet. I stare at my reflection. My face is pale, my eyes wide and red, my hair a tangled mess.
I look like a woman who just had her entire world implode. I turn on the shower, the hot water a blessed relief against my skin, trying to wash away the fear, the shame, and the sheer disbelief.
As I stand under the spray, I replay Killian's words in my head. He thinks he can just swoop in and save me. He's right about one thing: the media will eat me alive. A cold, ruthless CEO, a one-night stand, a baby, and a public firing.
The headlines will be merciless. My life, my reputation, everything I've worked for will be gone. And a part of me knows that if I don't accept his offer, I'll be left with nothing.
I step out, wrapping a towel around myself. The air feels too cold. I feel too exposed. Just as I get dressed, the doorbell rings.
I practically run to the door. Claire stands there, a worried look on her face, holding a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. She doesn't say a word, just pulls me into a tight hug. I bury my face in her shoulder, and the sobs return with a fresh ferocity.
We sink onto the couch, the wine bottle and takeout bag forgotten on the coffee table. I'm shaking, and Claire pulls back, her expression a mix of concern and something else. A flicker of something I can't quite place.
"Annabella," she says, her voice hushed.
"Start at the beginning. I need you to tell me everything. They wouldn't even let me on the hospital floor until you were discharged, do you know that? Killian had a bodyguard standing at the elevator. What in God's name is happening?"
My head snaps up, my tears momentarily forgotten. "He did what?" The raw, possessive control of it hits me all over again.
"What is he, your keeper? Now, tell me. Start from the moment you collapsed." Claire grabs my hands, her gaze fixed on mine.
I take a deep, shaky breath, and the words spill out in a frantic, jumbled mess, my thoughts jumping from one point to the next. "I... I fainted, Claire. Right there, in his office..."
"Okay," she says, her voice low and calm, trying to anchor me. "Then what?"
"...and he was so mad, he said I was a terrible employee, and then I woke up in a hospital, and he was just there, like he owned the place. He was on the phone, looking all dark and angry, and then a doctor came in, and he was so calm, and he said... he said I was pregnant! Pregnant! Do you hear me?"
Claire's eyes widen, her mouth falling open. She doesn't say anything for a long moment. She just stares at me, her mind clearly racing.
"But... how was he not shocked?" she finally manages to stammer out.
"He was!" I cry out, the tears flowing again. "That's what's so weird! The doctor said it, and Killian... his face went totally blank. He looked so surprised. He didn't know. He had a team watching over me, but he had no idea. It was like I was a toy he thought he lost and now he found me, and I came with an instruction manual. I don't know, Claire, I don't know!"
"Wait, wait, back up," she says, her hands on my shoulders, trying to steady me. "A team? What do you mean he had a team watching you?"
"I don't know! He said it himself! He said I disappeared, and he had people watching me. That's why he was so mad. Not because of my work, but because I left without saying a word. He was angry at me... for running away."
Claire stares at me, her expression a mix of disbelief and horror. "So, he had you watched like a criminal, and he was raging at you for not telling him you were pregnant, and he expects you to move in with him?" she asks, her voice rising with each word. "That's not possessive, that's just flat-out insane. That's a sociopath with a trust fund."
"I know!" I sob, a fresh wave of tears hitting me. "I told him he was wrong. I told him... I told him the baby might be Luciano's."
Claire's eyes practically pop out of her head. "You did what? You told him? Oh my God, you told the most possessive, ruthless man on the planet that his rival might be the father of his child? Bella, that's not... that's not how you handle a crisis! That's how you start a world war!"
"I know!" I shriek, hysterically. "I just... I was so mad! I wanted him to back off! But it just made him worse. He got so close and he slammed his hand on the bed and he said, 'You are my problem. You are not going to leave my sight again. Not with my child.' He was terrifying, Claire."
Claire rushes over to me, pulling me into a hug. "Okay. Okay, that's it. No more talk about him. You're home now. You're safe. We'll figure this out. We'll get you a job, we'll get you a doctor. You're not alone in this."
We sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound is the soft click of her lighter as she lights a cigarette. The silence is a comforting balm, a temporary escape from the chaotic storm that is my life.
Just as I'm about to take a deep breath, a sharp, insistent knock on the door jolts us both. I freeze. My heart leaps into my throat. "Who is that?" Claire whispers, her eyes wide with fear. "It's late."
"I don't know," I whisper back, my hand clutching hers. "I wasn't expecting anyone."
I stand up, my legs trembling, and walk to the door. I peer through the peephole, and my blood runs cold. I can't believe what I'm seeing. My mind replays the image again and again, but it doesn't change.
I'm staring at a man with golden hair, a man with a nervous smile on his face. My hand drops from the peephole, and I open the door, my mouth agape.
"Annabella," he says, his smile widening, but his eyes are filled with a strange kind of desperation. "I've been meaning to talk to you."
It's Luciano. I'm speechless. How did he know I live here? Is he a part of this too? He was also there that night. He was also there, standing at Killian's door. A new wave of fear washes over me. I step back, and a single thought consumes me. I have one stalker. Now I have two.