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Chapter 10: Fractured Trust

Author: Chipri
last update Last Updated: 2025-01-27 16:11:13

Stephanie stared at the pregnancy test balanced on the edge of the marble sink, its twin pink lines glowing like a verdict. The bathroom’s gold fixtures blurred as tears pooled in her eyes. *Four weeks*. Four weeks since Leon had cornered her in his study, his breath was hot with scotch and regret. Four weeks since he’d pinned her to the desk, his hands possessive, his apologies lost in the heat of their collision.

She pressed a trembling hand to her stomach. *His heir*. The word curdled in her mind. Genevieve’s threats slithered back—*we’ll handle it quietly*—but beneath the fear, a fragile hope flickered. *What if this changes everything?*

---

The dining hall felt colder than usual. Stephanie had spent hours draping the table in Leon’s favorite crimson silk, lighting vanilla candles he’d once joked reminded him of her skin. The filet mignon sat congealing on fine china, the clock ticking past 9 p.m.

Her phone buzzed.

**Leon:** *Emergency meeting. Don’t wait up.*

Stephanie’s thumb hovered over the screen. *Tell him*, a voice urged. *He deserves to know*. But another voice, sharper, hissed: *He’ll use it as another weapon*.

She deleted the message and reached for the remote. The TV flickered to life, a gossip channel dissecting the week’s scandals.

*“…spotted at Club Noir with ex-wife Adriana Montgomery! Has the billionaire rekindled old flames?”*

The screen split—Leon and Adriana, bathed in strobe lights, her body fused to his. Adriana’s laugh pierced through the speakers, bright and venomous. Leon’s hand gripped her hip, his wedding band glinting.

Stephanie gagged. She barely made it to the powder room before vomiting, her knees slamming against the tile.

---

“Madam?”

Marta stood in the doorway, her wrinkled face creased with concern. Stephanie hadn’t heard her enter. The housekeeper’s gaze dropped to the pregnancy test still clutched in her hand.

“Oh, child,” Marta murmured.

Stephanie curled tighter into herself. “Don’t.”

But Marta knelt, her arthritic joints cracking, and pried the test from Stephanie’s grip. “You must leave. Tonight.”

“I can’t. The contract—”

“Contracts mean nothing to people like them.” Marta’s voice hardened. “Twenty years I’ve served this family. I’ve seen what they do to… *inconveniences*.”

Stephanie’s breath hitched. “What are you saying?”

Marta glanced over her shoulder, then leaned in. “Leon’s father had a mistress. She disappeared when her belly swelled. They called it a boating accident.” Her knuckles whitened around the test. “Genevieve keeps a vial of pennyroyal oil in her vanity. *For pests*, she says.”

The air thickened. Stephanie’s hand flew to her abdomen. “Leon wouldn’t let them—”

“Leon is his mother’s son.” Marta stood, her tone final. “Pack a bag. Meet me at the east gate at midnight.”

---

Stephanie paced the bedroom, her duffel bag half-zipped. *Run. Stay. Run. Stay*. The baby kicked, a phantom flutter.

Her phone lit up—an unknown number.

**Anonymous:** *Missing him?*

A photo followed. Leon, his hair disheveled, keying in the passcode to Adriana’s penthouse. Time stamp: *9:47 p.m.*

Stephanie’s vision tunneled. She stumbled to the window, gulping icy air. The mansion’s grounds sprawled below, moonlight glinting off the security cameras.

*Midnight*.

She glanced at the clock—11:23 p.m. Thirty-seven minutes to decide: trust Marta’s warning or cling to the delusion that Leon might choose her.

A floorboard creaked.

Stephanie froze. The bedroom door inched open.

“Going somewhere?” Genevieve purred, her silk robe pooling like blood at her feet. In her hand gleamed a small glass vial.

Genevieve stepped closer, the vial’s acrid scent burning Stephanie’s nostrils. “Let’s make this quick, darling. The gardener’s digging a hole as we speak.”

Genevieve’s smile was a razor blade, her fingers tightening around the vial. The pungent scent of pennyroyal oil clawed at Stephanie’s throat. “You didn’t really think you could keep this from us, did you?”

Stephanie backed against the windowsill, her pulse roaring. Moonlight sliced through the room, glinting off the vial. “Leon will never forgive you.”

“Leon,” Genevieve scoffed, “is too blinded by Adriana’s games to notice a thing.” She advanced, her robe whispering like a serpent’s scales. “Now, hold still. This will only hurt if you struggle.”

A crash echoed downstairs—a door slamming, voices rising. Genevieve hesitated, her head tilting toward the noise.

*Now.*

Stephanie lunged, knocking the vial from Genevieve’s grip. It shattered, liquid pooling like venom on the floor. Genevieve snarled, clawing at Stephanie’s hair, but she twisted free, sprinting into the hall.

“Guards!” Genevieve shrieked. “Stop her!”

Footsteps thundered below. Stephanie veered into the servants’ stairwell, her breath ragged. The narrow stairs spiraled into darkness, but she memorized every creak from sleepless nights. At the bottom, Marta waited, her face ashen.

“The east gate—*now*!” Marta thrust a set of car keys into her hand. “The black sedan. Go!”

Stephanie fled through the kitchen, dodging startled staff. Cold air slapped her face as she burst into the garden. The gate loomed ahead, rusted hinges groaning as she shoved it open.

Tires screeched. A black sedan skidded to a halt, idling at the curb. Stephanie dove into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the keys. The engine roared to life just as guards spilled from the mansion.

“*Stop her!*” Genevieve’s scream pierced the night.

Stephanie slammed the gas, the car lurching forward. Rearview mirrors flashed with pursuing headlights, but she swerved into alleys, losing them in the labyrinth of the city.

---

An hour later, she parked in the shadow of a derelict motel, her hands welded to the steering wheel. The baby kicked again, a fragile reminder of why she’d run. She reached for her phone, still clutched in her trembling hand.

**Unknown Number:** *You can’t hide forever.*

A photo followed—Leon, his hair disheveled, punching a code into Adriana’s penthouse door. Time stamp: *10:12 p.m.*

Stephanie’s breath hitched. The screen blurred as tears fell. Even now, as she fled his family’s poison, he was with *her*.

Her finger hovered over Leon’s contact. *Tell him*, a voice begged. *He’s the father*. But another voice, hardened by betrayal, hissed: *He’s the enemy*.

A knock shattered the silence.

Stephanie jerked upright. Outside her window stood a gaunt man in a chauffeur’s cap—*Marta’s driver*. He tapped the glass, urgency in his eyes.

“We need to move. They’ve tracked the car.”

She stumbled out, the night air biting through her thin sweater. The driver ushered her into a rusty pickup truck, its engine already running.

“Where’s Marta?” Stephanie asked.

The man’s jaw tightened. “Bought you time. Now *go*.”

He shoved a burner phone into her hand and vanished into the shadows. Stephanie sped onto the highway, the city dissolving into skeletal trees and endless black.

---

Dawn bled across the horizon as she pulled into a roadside diner. The burner phone buzzed.

**Unknown Number:** *Check the news.*

Stephanie hesitated, then clicked a grainy livestream.

“*…breaking update: Billionaire Leon Phoenix spotted leaving Adriana Montgomery’s penthouse at 3 a.m. Sources say the ex-couple reignited their spark hours before his wife’s mysterious disappearance…*”

The screen split—Leon, his collar askew, shielding his face from cameras, while Adriana smirked behind him, her neck littered with fresh bruises.

Stephanie gagged, acid burning her throat. She hurled the phone into the diner’s trash can, its screen cracking mid-headline: *PHOENIX HEIR’S WIFE VANISHES AMID LOVE TRIANGLE SCANDAL*.

A waitress approached, pity etched in her smile. “Coffee, hon?”

“No.” Stephanie stood, her legs buckling. “I need to… I need—”

The world tilted. She crashed into a booth, her vision swimming. The last thing she saw was the waitress lunging for her, screaming for help.

Stephanie awoke in a sterile room, IV drips snaking from her arms. A doctor frowned at her chart. “You’re lucky we saved the baby,” he said. Behind him, the TV blared: *“Breaking: Adriana Montgomery announces pregnancy—claims Leon Phoenix is the father.”*

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    Stephanie stared at the pregnancy test balanced on the edge of the marble sink, its twin pink lines glowing like a verdict. The bathroom’s gold fixtures blurred as tears pooled in her eyes. *Four weeks*. Four weeks since Leon had cornered her in his study, his breath was hot with scotch and regret. Four weeks since he’d pinned her to the desk, his hands possessive, his apologies lost in the heat of their collision. She pressed a trembling hand to her stomach. *His heir*. The word curdled in her mind. Genevieve’s threats slithered back—*we’ll handle it quietly*—but beneath the fear, a fragile hope flickered. *What if this changes everything?* --- The dining hall felt colder than usual. Stephanie had spent hours draping the table in Leon’s favorite crimson silk, lighting vanilla candles he’d once joked reminded him of her skin. The filet mignon sat congealing on fine china, the clock ticking past 9 p.m. Her phone buzzed. **Leon:** *Emergency meeting. Don’t wait up.* Stephani

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