Serena’s POV
I’m trembling with fury as Ryan grabs my wrist. The nerve of him, defending that woman after what she just said!
"Let go of , Ryan!" I snap, yanking my arm free. "You and her are two sides of the sa coin! I was a fool to believe anything you said!"
I clutch my purse tightly, desperate to get away from both of them. My chest feels tight with anger and betrayal.
"Serena, what’s wrong? You said you wouldn’t get upset," Ryan calls after , confusion clear in his voice.
I let out a derisive snort. Why bother explaining? He’d never believe Sophie threatened our baby. He’s always seen what he wants to see when it cos to her.
Storming out of the hospital, I flag down a taxi, my hands still shaking as I give the driver my address. I need to get ho, away from Sophie’s venom and Ryan’s blindness.
We’re about halfway there when I feel the sudden jolt—tal crunching, tires screeching. My body lurches forward, and I instinctively wrap my arms around my belly, heart racing.
"Damn it!" the driver curses, turning around with an apologetic expression. "I’m so sorry, miss. We got rear-ended. You should probably take another cab. This one’s on ."
Before I can even respond, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out to deal with the other driver.
I sit there for a mont, trying to calm my racing heart. My baby. My baby has to be okay. Taking deep breaths, I finally manage to collect myself enough to exit the taxi.
The midday sun beats down rcilessly as I stand on the sidewalk, one hand shielding my eyes, the other supporting my pregnant belly. Car after car passes by, none willing to stop near an accident scene. I can’t bla them—nobody wants to get stuck in traffic.
After what feels like an eternity, my legs starting to wobble beneath , a familiar black sedan pulls up to the curb.
Julian steps out, his concerned eyes quickly taking in the accident scene before landing on . "Were you in that taxi? Are you alright?" he asks, imdiately moving to support with an arm around my waist.
I feel slightly uncomfortable with the contact, but after standing so long under the blazing sun, my legs have turned to jelly. I don’t push him away.
"You’ve been standing here long, haven’t you? Co on, let drive you ho," he says gently.
I manage a weak "Thanks," relief washing over . Thank goodness for familiar faces when you need them most.
"What are you doing in this area?" I ask as he helps into the passenger seat.
"Oh," Julian responds casually, "I was eting a client nearby. Spotted the accident from a distance. If I hadn’t noticed you standing there, I would’ve taken a detour around this ss."
He carefully helps into the car before walking around to the driver’s side. As we pull away from the curb, the silence feels heavy. I’m still seething about what happened at the hospital, my mind replaying Sophie’s threats over and over.
Julian glances at occasionally, reading my mood. "Rough day?" he asks, but doesn’t push when I only respond with a noncommittal hum.
When we arrive at my building, Julian insists on escorting upstairs. "Let make sure you get in safely," he says, his voice gentle but firm.
I’m too exhausted to argue. We step into the elevator together, and just as the doors begin to close, a hand shoots out between them.
The doors slide back open, and I find myself staring directly into Ryan’s thunderous face.
***
Ryan’s POV
I stare at Serena’s retreating figure with a mix of confusion and frustration. What the hell just happened? One minute we’re having a civil conversation in the hospital, and the next she’s storming out like I’ve betrayed her sohow.
"Serena!" I call after her, but she’s already disappeared through the hospital doors.
Behind , Sophie continues her theatrical sobbing. Sothing doesn’t add up here.
"Sophie, what exactly did you say to her?" I demand, turning back to face her.
She blinks those familiar doe eyes at , tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Nothing, Ryan! I just expressed concern for her and the baby. She must really hate ... she just attacked out of nowhere."
I narrow my eyes, studying her carefully. The Sophie I thought I knew years ago would never lie to , but this woman before ... sothing feels off.
I’m not an idiot. Serena wouldn’t fly into a rage without good reason.
Whatever happened, Sophie must have said sothing to upset her.
I’m walking out of the hospital room.
"Doctor," I catch the attending physician in the hallway, "how serious are Sophie’s injuries?"
The doctor doesn’t answer imdiately, looking up and down instead.
"Are you a family mber?"
"No, I’m her employer. Her injury happened accidentally, and I need to assess the severity to determine appropriate compensation." I narrow my eyes, my voice carrying unmistakable authority. "So your assessnt is critical and legally binding."
The doctor’s gaze flickers nervously. After a long hesitation, he finally speaks.
"Miss Hart’s injury... doesn’t actually require a cast. She insisted on it because she kept complaining about the pain."
My expression darkens imdiately. "So you’re saying Sophie deliberately exaggerated her injury?"
The doctor remains silent, which is answer enough.
I turn on my heel and march straight back to the hospital room. Sophie is lying in bed, and when she sees enter, she instantly switches to damsel-in-distress mode.
"Ryan, my leg hurts so much. This cast makes everything difficult. Looks like I’ll be staying in the hospital for a while. Will you co visit often?"
Her eyes shine with hope—the kind of look most n would find impossible to resist.
But I just stare at her coldly, anger evident in my voice. "What did you say to Serena earlier?"
Sophie freezes montarily before falling back on her script. "I didn’t say anything... I was just concerned about her, that’s all."
I frown deeply, glancing coldly at her casted leg. "Is your injury really that serious?"
"Ryan, how can you say that? I didn’t want to get hurt either."
"I spoke with the doctor. Your injury doesn’t require a cast. You insisted on it." My voice cos out cold, controlled, but inside I’m seething.
The flash of panic in her eyes confirms everything. "Ryan, how could you say that? I’m in so much pain..."
"Cut the act, Sophie. You deliberately called here, didn’t you?"
Her facade cracks for just a mont before she launches into full dramatic mode, tears streaming down her face. "Yes! I wanted you to see ! To care about ! Is that so terrible?"
"Rember when I had that accident years ago? You know why it happened! I lost my mory, struggled so hard, and when I finally made it back to you, you already had another woman!"
She’s trembling now, her voice breaking. "Have you ever considered how I feel? My heart is shattered, Ryan!"
The guilt hits like a physical blow. Our past is complicated, painful—an accident I’ve carried the weight of for years. I lower my eyes, anger dissipating.
"I’m sorry about what happened back then. It was an accident."
"I searched for you for so long..."
"I know, I understand," she interrupts between sobs. "People can’t stay frozen in ti. You have a new love and a baby on the way. I’m happy for you, Ryan. I just wanted a little bit of your concern, that’s all."
"Is that really so awful of ?"
Her wide, tear-filled eyes lock onto mine, projecting pure vulnerability. If Serena were here, she’d probably applaud Sophie’s performance. The thought of Serena snaps back to reality—my pregnant wife who just stord out of here upset.
"We need to stop seeing each other, Sophie. I don’t want Serena upset, and these gas need to end."
Her tears don’t sway this ti. I leave without looking back.
In the car, my thoughts race to Serena. Sothing doesn’t feel right. I try calling her, but the call doesn’t go through—she’s blocked again. Dammit!
The radio crackles with news of a car accident nearby. A cold knot forms in my stomach as the reporter describes the location—right along Serena’s likely route ho. My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I accelerate, praying I’m just being paranoid.
I rush ho, hoping she’s there, safe. As I pull into the parking garage, relief floods through when I spot her getting out of a car. She’s alive. She’s okay.
But my relief evaporates instantly when I realize whose car she’s exiting. Julian Clarke.
They’re walking toward the elevator together, his hand hovering near the small of her back in a protective gesture that makes my jaw clench.
I sprint across the garage, sliding my hand between the closing elevator doors just in ti.
The doors slide back open, and I’m staring directly at my wife—her face pale, exhausted, angry—standing next to the man who’s been waiting for any opportunity to take her from .
The look on Julian’s face—a mixture of surprise and sothing close to triumph—makes want to slam my fist through the elevator wall.
"Serena," I say, my voice tight with barely contained emotion. "I’ve been trying to reach you. Are you alright?"
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