Chapter one

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE

Aurora’s POV

The room was cold. Not from the air conditioning, but from the suffocating presence of the woman sitting right in front of me. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as I sat right in front of her.

Isadora Blackwood.

The infamous matriarch of the Blackwood empire. A woman so powerful, her words could dictate the rise or fall of an entire corporation.

The way she sat, legs crossed, spine straight, oozing effortless authority, made it clear—I was nothing more than a pawn in whatever twisted game she was playing.

And yet, I sat across from her, my hands clenched tightly on my lap, my heart beating so violently I thought it might break through my ribs. It was evident that I was scared of her.

I wasn't just scared. I was terrified.

"You love him, don’t you?" Isadora’s voice was soft, but at the same time stern.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Yes I do." i replied. it was obvious and clearly written all over my face.

A small smile curled at the edges of her lips. "Then you also know what needs to be done."

I still didn't know what she was talking about but one thing was sure. I loved my husband but I can't say much about his love for me.

She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a sleek black folder, sliding it across the cold metal table.

My gaze flickered down to the table right in front of me. My eyes darted between the envelope and back at the woman who was in front of me.

Confession of Guilt.

The words bled through my vision, burning themselves into my mind. My hands trembled as I reached for the document, my fingers brushing against the expensive paper.

"You sign this," she continued, her voice like a lullaby to the doomed, "and the trial never happens. The scandal dies before it breathes. You take the fall, serve a short sentence, and when you’re out…" She paused, her red lips stretching into something that almost resembled kindness.

"Killian will be waiting. I am sure that is what you have always wanted. Right?"

My chest tightened.

Killian.

The man I had risked everything for. The man I had built a future with, believed in, sacrificed for.

The man currently sitting in a glass office on the top floor of Blackwood Enterprises, unaware that his entire world was seconds away from crumbling.

I clenched my fists. "He didn’t do this." My voice came out strained, barely above a whisper.

Isadora tilted her head, as if my resistance amused her. "Of course not," she said easily. "But the evidence says otherwise. And if this goes to trial, you know what happens. The prosecutors will eat him alive. The board will strip him of everything. He’ll lose the company. His reputation. His future."

Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unwavering. "But you can stop that. You can protect him."

I felt a sharp pain to my chest.

This wasn’t a choice.

It was a death sentence wrapped in a velvet promise.

I sucked in a breath, my vision blurring. The words on the paper swam together, but the meaning was clear.

I was signing away my life.

I closed my eyes, memories flashing behind my lids.

Killian’s arms around me in the middle of the night, his whispers of love against my skin. The way he had promised forever, told me I was his world.

And now, I was about to be ripped away from that world.

I picked up the pen, my fingers trembling. The moment the ink touched the paper, I felt it—something inside me breaking, shattering into pieces I would never be able to put back together.

The second I lifted the pen, the door swung open.

Loud.

Forceful.

Final.

Two officers stepped in, their expressions unreadable. My body went rigid as one of them approached, reaching for my arm.

"Aurora Hayes, you are under arrest for corporate fraud and embezzlement."

The words hit like a bullet.

I barely registered the cold steel snapping around my wrists, the firm grip of the officer as he pulled me to my feet. The world tilted, the ground beneath me threatening to give way.

I turned to Isadora, desperate for some kind of reassurance.

She was already standing, smoothing the invisible wrinkles from her silk blouse, her expression unreadable.

"You’re making the right choice," she said simply.

The right choice.

Then why did it feel like I had just walked into my own grave?

I was led down the dimly lit hallway, my pulse thrumming violently in my ears.

When we stepped into the main lobby, chaos erupted.

Flashes of light. The deafening roar of reporters screaming my name.

"Ms. Hayes! Is it true you stole millions from Blackwood Enterprises?"

"Aurora, do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"Did Killian Blackwood know about the fraud?"

Their words sliced through the thick air, but I barely heard them.

Because at the end of the hallway, standing like a ghost among the storm, was him.

Killian.

His emerald-green eyes locked onto mine, but there was no relief. No desperation to save me.

Only cold, cutting rage.

A chill rushed through my veins. My mouth parted, my voice barely a whisper. "Killian—"

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Then, in one slow, deliberate motion—he turned his back to me and walked away.

My breath and as caught In my throat.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. i couldn't opt out anymore.

I had done this for him. To save him.

Why was he leaving me like this?

A sharp pain tore through my chest, so intense it felt like something inside me had cracked wide open.

The officers pushed me forward, my legs weak, my body numb. The flashing lights, the shouting, the suffocating weight of betrayal—it all blurred together.

I was thrown into the back of the police transport van, the door slamming shut behind me. The moment the cold metal pressed against my spine, the first sob broke free.

My vision blurred with tears, my body trembling violently.

Then suddenly, a wave of nausea rolled through me. My stomach twisted, a sharp, sickening sensation clawing its way up my throat.

I barely had time to turn before I retched, my entire body shuddering.

The officer in the front seat cursed, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "You okay back there?"

No.

I wasn’t okay.

Because suddenly, the past few weeks came crashing back—the exhaustion, the dizziness, the morning sickness I had brushed off as stress.

The weight of the realization slammed into me with brutal force.

I wasn’t just losing my freedom.

I was carrying Killian’s child.

And he had just walked away like he never cared about me in the first place.

A cold shiver ran down my spine and in that moment, I knew I was alone.