Chapter 2: The Double Blue Lines
The silence of the Blackwood mansion was no longer peaceful; it was predatory.
Rose sat on the edge of the cold marble bathtub, her breath hitching in her chest. On the vanity lay three different pregnancy tests she had bought at a 24-hour pharmacy across town, wearing a hoodie and a mask to avoid being recognized.
One minute. Two minutes. Three.
Her vision blurred as she looked down. On all three sticks, two distinct, unapologetic blue lines stared back at her.
"Positive," she whispered, her voice trembling.
A mix of terror and a fierce, primal protectiveness surged through her. She wasn't just Rose Woods anymore the discarded wife, the shadow in Alexander's life. She was a mother. These children were the only real things she had left in a world built on Alexander's lies and Evelyn's ghosts.
She quickly tucked the tests into the bottom of her jewelry box, under a velvet lining. She couldn't let anyone see them. Especially not now.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The sound of someone pounding on her bedroom door shattered the moment.
"Rose! Open this door right now! I know you're hiding in there like a wounded animal!"
Rose's heart plummeted. She recognized that shrill, condescending tone instantly. It was Victoria Blackwood, Alexander's mother. A woman who had spent the last three years reminding Rose that she was "peasant stock" and lucky to even breathe the same air as a Blackwood.
Rose stood up, wiped her face, and opened the door.
Victoria stood there, draped in a mink coat despite being indoors, her face twisted in a sneer. Behind her stood two burly security guards carrying large, empty cardboard boxes.
"Mother," Rose said, her voice surprisingly cold. "It's barely eight in the morning."
"Don't call me 'Mother,'" Victoria snapped, pushing her way into the room. She looked around the elegant suite with disdain. "Alexander told me the news. The divorce papers were delivered last night. I didn't want to wait another second for you to pollute this house with your presence."
She gestured to the guards. "Start packing. Anything she didn't bring with her stays here. The jewelry, the designer bags, the furs they all belong to the Blackwood estate. You came here with a cardboard suitcase, Rose. You'll leave the same way."
Rose felt the blood rush to her face. "The divorce hasn't been finalized yet. I haven't signed anything."
Victoria laughed, a harsh, metallic sound. "Oh, you'll sign. Unless you want my lawyers to make sure you never find work in this country again. My son is finally reuniting with Evelyn a woman of status, a woman who actually saved his life. Why would he keep a boring little sparrow like you around?"
The guards began grabbing Rose's clothes from the closet, tossing them onto the floor like trash. Victoria walked over to the vanity, her eyes landing on Rose's jewelry box.
"No!" Rose stepped forward, thinking of the pregnancy tests hidden inside.
Victoria shoved her back with surprising strength. "Don't touch me! This diamond necklace was a family heirloom. It was meant for a real Mrs. Blackwood. Not a temporary substitute."
Victoria dumped the jewelry box out onto the bed. Gold chains and pearls scattered everywhere. Rose held her breath, her eyes darting to the velvet lining. Fortunately, the tests stayed tucked inside the hidden compartment.
"Look at you," Victoria sneered, looking Rose up and down. "Pale, thin, and pathetic. You couldn't even give Alexander an heir in three years. What use are you? You're just a broken vessel."
Rose felt a spark of white-hot rage. She wanted to scream the truth that she was carrying two heirs at this very moment. But she bit her tongue until she tasted blood. If Victoria knew, they would take the babies away. They would treat her children like property, just like they treated her.
"I'm leaving," Rose said, her voice dropping to a deadly, calm whisper. "You don't need the guards. I'll go."
"Good. Because the locks are being changed at noon," Victoria said, dropping a pair of cheap plastic suitcases on the floor. "Pack your rags and get out. And Rose? Don't ever let me see your face in this city again. You're a stain on our history that we're finally washing away."
Victoria turned on her heel and strutted out, her heels clicking like a countdown to Rose's disappearance.
Rose didn't cry. The time for tears was over.
She moved with a sudden, frantic energy. She didn't pack the expensive dresses. Instead, she grabbed her passport, her personal bank records, and the hidden pregnancy tests.
She walked over to the desk and picked up the divorce papers Alexander had left. With a steady hand, she scrawled her name on the bottom line.
Beside her signature, she left a small note:
"You said it was a mistake from the start. I finally agree. Don't look for me. To you, I am already dead."
She threw her few belongings into a bag, walked past the guards without looking back, and stepped out into the morning rain.
She pulled out her phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in years a number she had kept secret even from Alexander.
"Hello?" a deep, professional voice answered on the second ring.
"It's Rose," she said, her voice catching the wind. "The 'Butterfly' is ready to come home. Tell my grandfather... I'm ready to take my place in the Valentine Empire."
"Understood, Miss Rose. A private jet is being redirected to the suburban airfield. We will be there in twenty minutes."
Rose looked back at the Blackwood mansion one last time. In Alexander's eyes, she was a failed wife being kicked out in disgrace. He had no idea that he hadn't just lost a "substitute" he had just declared war on the only woman who could ever bring him to his knees.
As the black sedan pulled up to whisk her away, Rose touched her stomach.
"Just wait, Alexander," she whispered to the wind. "In five years, you won't even be worthy of breathing the same air as my children."
---
The luxury sedan glided onto the tarmac of a private, high-security airfield. Standing there, silhouetted against the rising sun, was a sleek, silver Gulfstream jet. On its tail was a subtle, gold-embossed crest: a blooming rose entwined with a sword the seal of the Valentine Empire.
As the car stopped, the door was pulled open by a man in a crisp, black suit. "Welcome home, Miss Rose," he said, bowing low.
Rose stepped out, her cheap plastic suitcase feeling like a lead weight in her hand. She looked at the jet, then back at the city she was leaving behind. The smog of the Blackwood influence was finally clearing from her lungs.
"Thank you, Marcus," she whispered.
The climb up the stairs was a blur. The moment she stepped into the cabin, the scent of fresh lilies and expensive leather enveloped her. Sitting in a plush, velvet armchair was an elderly man with silver hair and eyes that held the sharpness of a hawk, yet softened the moment they landed on her.
"Grandfather," Rose sobbed, the wall of strength she had built finally crumbling.
William Valentine stood up, his cane tapping rhythmically on the carpet as he hurried toward her. He caught her in a firm embrace, his familiar scent of sandalwood and old books acting as the ultimate sanctuary.
"My little flower," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "What did that boy do to you? Look at you... you've grown so thin."
"I'm sorry, Grandfather. I should have listened. I thought I could change him. I thought love was enough."
William pulled back, his eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying light that would have made Alexander Blackwood tremble. "The Valentines do not beg for love, Rose. We command it. If he couldn't see the diamond in his hand, then he deserves the gravel he's left with. You are home now. No one will ever hurt you again."
The flight was short, crossing the ocean to a private island estate that the world knew only as 'The Valentine Sanctuary.' When the jet touched down, the reception was nothing short of royal. A fleet of white Rolls-Royces waited on the runway. As they drove through the gates of the massive, sprawling estate, the entire staff hundreds of maids, chefs, and security detail stood in two perfect lines, bowing as the car passed.
"Welcome home, Princess Rose!" they shouted in unison.
Rose looked out the window, tears pricking her eyes. In the Blackwood mansion, she was a "sparrow" who had to cook her own meals to please a husband who never showed up. Here, she was the crown jewel of one of the wealthiest families on the planet.
Inside the mansion, her old room had been kept exactly as she left it, but updated with the latest technology and filled with fresh designer clothes.
"The finest doctors in the world are waiting in the medical wing," William said, patting her hand. "Marcus told me about your... condition. You need rest, Rose. You are carrying the future of the Valentine line. Those children will be kings and queens, not just 'heirs' to a petty billionaire."
For the first time in three years, Rose lay down on a bed that didn't feel cold. A maid brought her a bowl of warm, nutritious soup made by a Michelin-star chef, and another began a gentle foot massage to ease her swelling.
As she drifted off to sleep, she felt a soft kick in her womb.
I'm safe now, she thought. We are safe.
She closed her eyes, imagining the look on Victoria Blackwood's face if she could see her now treated like the queen she actually was. Alexander was a memory, a dark smudge on a beautiful canvas.
Tomorrow, the training would begin. She would reclaim her medical degree, take over the family's biotech research, and build an empire that would eventually swallow the Blackwoods whole.
But tonight, the Princess was finally resting.