Isabella Laurent slammed the apartment door behind her. The sound echoed like a warning.
She leaned against it, pressing her hands over her face.
I'll handle this alone.
She whispered it again, repeating it like a mantra. Over and over.
She couldn't tell anyone. Not Olivia, not her family. And certainly not him.
Sebastian Blackwood.
The memory of him—cold, unreadable, commanding—made her stomach twist. He had offered her money. He had demanded she forget. And yet, here she was… carrying a child she hadn't even decided to tell anyone about.
The next morning, Olivia showed up at Isabella's office with a concerned look and a lunch bag.
"You need to eat," she said. "Seriously, you look like a ghost."
"I'm fine," Isabella said, glancing up quickly.
Olivia didn't buy it. "Fine? You're a mess. Look at you. I don't care what's going on, you need to stop torturing yourself."
"I… I just… I have a lot on my mind," Isabella said, avoiding eye contact.
Olivia frowned. "Izzy… please. Talk to me. You don't have to face this alone."
Isabella forced a smile. "I appreciate it. Really. But this… this is mine to handle."
Olivia's eyes softened. "Just… don't shut me out completely, okay?"
"I won't," Isabella said quickly, standing up. "I promise."
Later that day, Isabella went through her emails at her desk. She kept her posture straight, her expression neutral. She answered questions, scheduled meetings, smiled when necessary.
But inside, her heart was pounding.
She couldn't stop thinking about the test. The doctor. The two pink lines.
Pregnant.
Her mind spun. She had been so careful. She had planned, controlled, guarded herself. And yet… one reckless night, one single mistake, had rewritten her life.
She had to keep this a secret. She had to protect herself.
Across the city, Sebastian Blackwood sat in his office, reviewing documents with Marcus Hayes.
"Sir, we have a lead," Marcus said cautiously. "The woman… she's been spotted at a medical clinic."
Sebastian's dark eyes narrowed. "Which clinic?"
Marcus handed him a sheet with the address. "Here."
Sebastian leaned back, expression unreadable. "Prepare a car. Quiet. Discreet. I'm going there."
Marcus hesitated. "Sir… are you sure? You barely know her. And—"
"She's carrying my child," Sebastian interrupted, voice low and dangerous. "I will know the truth. I will find her. She cannot hide."
Marcus swallowed and nodded.
Back in her apartment, Isabella double-checked all her locks. She peered through the blinds, scanning the street below.
Nothing.
She exhaled slowly. Her apartment was secure. At least for now.
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
"I will find you."
She froze, heart hammering.
He knows. He's looking.
She sank onto the couch, hugging her knees.
I'll handle this alone. I have to.
That night, Olivia called. "Izzy, are you okay? You sound… off."
"I'm fine," Isabella said tightly. "I just… I'm tired. A lot on my mind."
"Is it about… last week?" Olivia asked carefully.
Isabella shook her head. "No. Nothing like that. Really."
Olivia frowned. "You're lying. Something is wrong. I can feel it."
"I said I'm fine," Isabella repeated, more forcefully.
Olivia sighed, clearly worried. "Alright… but if you change your mind, call me."
Sebastian arrived at the clinic quietly. He stepped out of the sleek black car, glancing around. His dark eyes scanned the building.
Marcus whispered from behind him, "Sir… the staff are cautious. They won't give information without patient consent."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. "Then we wait. Watch. Observe. I will know where she is. I will know what she's doing."
A nurse walked by, and Sebastian's gaze followed her, cold and calculating. He didn't move, didn't speak. He didn't blink.
"She's mine," he whispered to himself.
Meanwhile, Isabella returned to her apartment, exhausted. She sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow.
I can't let him find me.
I have to do this alone.
She pulled her knees to her chest and tried to breathe.
Her phone buzzed again. Unknown number.
"I will find you."
She pressed it against her chest.
Tears slid down her cheeks.
The next morning, Isabella walked to work cautiously. She avoided the usual streets, took different routes, kept her head down.
Her hands shook as she unlocked the office door.
Olivia immediately noticed. "Izzy! Seriously, stop avoiding everyone. You're scaring me!"
"I'm fine," Isabella said quickly.
"You're lying. Big time," Olivia said, frowning. "If you're in trouble, I can help. I can—"
"I can't. Not yet," Isabella said, cutting her off.
Olivia hesitated. "Fine… but I'm watching you."
Later, Isabella's apartment was silent. She tried to sleep, but the sound of her own heartbeat was deafening.
She pressed a pillow to her face, trying to block out the thought of him.
Sebastian Blackwood.
He's coming. He's going to find me.
She clenched her fists, repeating her mantra over and over:
I'll raise this child alone. I'll do this alone. I can do this alone.
Across the city, Sebastian leaned against his office window, looking at the streets below.
"She's mine," he murmured again. "No one… no one takes what's mine."
Marcus approached cautiously. "Sir… are you sure about this? She doesn't even know—"
"I will not wait," Sebastian interrupted, voice low and dangerous. "When I find her, she will understand. I will protect what's mine. No one else will touch her. No one else will touch my child."
Marcus swallowed. He had never seen Sebastian like this—focused, obsessive, relentless.
The days passed in a blur for Isabella. She moved apartments again, tried to avoid any attention, and kept her head down at work.
She didn't answer calls. She ignored emails. She tried to disappear.
But no matter how far she ran… she couldn't escape the shadow she felt following her.
One rainy afternoon, she returned to her new apartment. The hallway was empty. She slid the key into the lock, turned it, and stepped inside.
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
"Stop running. You're mine."
Isabella froze.
Her hands trembled.
Somewhere across the city, Sebastian's sleek black car idled outside a street she didn't know.
He watched silently, calculating. Cold. Obsessed. Determined.
"She's mine," he whispered again.
That night, Isabella lay awake, listening to the rain against the window.
She hugged her knees.
I can't go back.
I can't let him find out.
I'll raise this child alone.
But deep down, she knew the truth.
He was coming.
And she wouldn't be able to hide forever.
The final text came just before midnight. Unknown number.
"I'm coming for you. And I will not fail."
Isabella's chest tightened. She pressed the phone to her forehead, trembling.
Somewhere, high above the city, Sebastian Blackwood stared at the skyline.
He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He didn't blink.
"She's mine," he whispered once more. "And nothing… nothing will stop me."