He could still remember that day kneeling, his head buried against her shoulder, the composure he never lost finally cracking wide open, silent tears soaking straight through her shirt.
Eliana had stroked his hair, rubbed slow circles against his back, coaxing him through it.
“Nate.
Don’t be scared.”
“They said if we go back and pray for him, Grandpa might pull through.
I’ll go with you.”
“Even if it’s Grandpa…
Nate, you still have me.”
He could still catch the ghost of her perfume from that year, the only scent he associated with that entire, awful stretch of grief.
“Nate…”
He could almost hear her saying it now, in every register he’d ever heard it in happy, sad, gentle, shy.
The last time had been minutes ago.
In the stairwell.
That soft, broken call.
His frown deepened without his permission.
Something close to fear crept in.
“Nathaniel.” Vivian’s voice cut through, her hand tightening around his.
“What’s wrong?”
He looked up and saw her there pale, fragile-looking, waiting.
Reality snapped back into place.
He looked away and closed his eyes.
“Nothing.”
He pulled his hand free and started the car.
“Chloe’s still at the hospital.
She’ll manage.”
He kept his eyes on the road, steering the Aston Martin smoothly out of the lot and onto the elevated highway.
“I’ll take you home.”
Vivian smiled softly.
“Okay.”
…
At the hospital.
The emergency room stayed in constant motion, staff moving in and out.
Chloe paced outside, unable to sit still.
She was a gynecologist by training, capable of performing the surgery herself under normal circumstances but she was far too emotionally compromised tonight to trust her own hands.
At least she’d had the sense to line up blood reserves ahead of time.
She had no idea what condition Eliana was actually in right now.
With that much blood loss was there still any chance for the baby?
Her thoughts spiraled, refusing to settle into anything she could trust.
All she could do was wait.
Tap, tap, tap…
Footsteps approached, and Chloe looked up to see her brother, Ethan Bennett.
“Ethan!”
She threw herself into his arms, whatever composure she’d managed to scrape together collapsing all over again.
“I ruined her life, Ethan.” She sobbed into his shoulder.
“I ruined Eliana’s life.
What do I do…”
Ethan sighed, rubbing her back gently.
“I already heard the rundown on the way over.
Let me go take a look first.”
“Chloe.
If you don’t trust anyone else in there, trust your own brother, at least.”
The Bennetts were a family of physicians through and through, and as the eldest, Ethan had the training to match, even outside his usual specialty.
Not a full-time OB, but sharp across nearly every discipline.
“Okay.” Chloe straightened immediately, wiping her face.
“Go.
Hurry.”
Ethan smiled, wiped away one last tear she’d missed, then changed into scrubs, scrubbed in, and disappeared into the emergency room.
Barely a minute after he went in, an alarm shrieked from one of the monitors.
“Heart rate’s crashing, get the pacing equipment ready, now!”
“Someone check if the family’s outside.
We need a critical condition notice signed immediately.”
The room dissolved into controlled chaos.
…
Elsewhere.
The Aston Martin pulled up outside Vivian’s building.
Inside, she studied Nathaniel’s profile in silence.
He’d always been unreadable, no visible joy, no visible anger, nothing to grab onto.
Entire rival firms, stacked with top talent, had spent years failing to predict his next move in a boardroom.
During Cole Group’s most volatile transition period, he’d driven every major call personally, fought for every inch of ground dragging the company out of its old-fashioned roots and into genuine tech dominance, cementing it as one of the biggest names in the industry.
None of that had ever been theoretical.
He’d earned it, brutally, one decision at a time.
Vivian never expected to fully control a man like that.
She didn’t need to.
She only needed to outpace Eliana.
Exactly like right now.
Eliana, back at the hospital.
Her, sitting comfortably in his passenger seat.
“We’re here,” Vivian said, when he made no move beyond a light, absent tap of his fingers against the wheel.
“Mm.” He acknowledged it, but still didn’t move.
She hesitated, then said, softer, almost shy, “Nathaniel…
aren’t you going to walk me up?”
An invitation upstairs.
Adults didn’t need to spell it out further than that.
He stopped tapping the wheel and looked at her.
He didn’t answer right away, just studied her, long enough that it started to make her uneasy.
After about three seconds: “I’m pretty tired tonight.”
She nodded, understanding, and let it drop.
An awkward beat passed between them.
“Go on up,” Nathaniel said.
“Get some rest.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
He walked her as far as the elevator before heading back down.
Riding up alone, Vivian let herself into her apartment.
Through the window, she watched him cross back to his car, and a satisfied smile crept across her face.
Her mind drifted back to everything she’d set in motion the second she’d learned about Eliana’s pregnancy.
Four hours earlier.
Eight p.m.
Her flower studio.
Vivian had shot to her feet so abruptly her nurse startled, completely blindsided by the sudden shift from calm to visibly agitated.
The nurse didn’t dare ask why.
She just watched Vivian think something through, then pick up her phone and dial.
“Yes, it’s me,” Vivian said.
“I need you to do something for me.
Now.”
“You don’t need to know why.
If you actually care about me, you’ll just do it.”
“Yes, I’m with Nathaniel right now.
So what?
Didn’t you tell me you loved me?”
“If that’s true, prove it.
Do this for me.”
She hung up, and something cold and calculating settled behind her eyes.
Nathaniel wanted children.
She’d known that about him for a while now you didn’t spend this much time with someone without learning their soft spots.
He and Eliana already had the divorce paperwork filed, sure, but they were still deep in the cooling-off period.
Under the law, either party could pull the application during that window and the marriage would simply resume, unbroken.
If Nathaniel found out Eliana was carrying his child, the whole divorce could unravel in an instant.
She’d worked too hard to get both signatures on that paperwork to let a pregnancy undo it now.
Her phone buzzed again.
Two new replies waiting.
The first, from the person she’d just called: Fine.
I’ll take care of it.
The second, from Nathaniel, answering her earlier message about walking her home from work: Okay.
At 8:45 p.m., she’d stepped out of her studio, and the paparazzi she’d arranged in advance caught every second of it on camera.
Every trending tag, every leaked photo since all of it, engineered by her, starts to finish.
Vivian laughed softly, watching the Aston Martin’s taillights disappear down the street below.
“Trying to hold onto him with a baby?
Not happening.”
“Three days from now, the first live episode of Voice of Heaven airs.
That’s where your nightmare really starts.”
“You’re going to lose everything, Eliana.
And I’m going to take every last piece of it.”
“You were never going to win this.”
…
Elsewhere.
Ashford General Hospital.
Chloe, still waiting outside the emergency room after what felt like an eternity, finally heard movement.
The doors swung open, and she shot to her feet.