Chapter 2 - The Door That Changed Everything
The door swung open.
Chloe Bennett barely had time to straighten before Harrison appeared in the doorway, a crystal tumbler in one hand and an expression of mild irritation on his handsome face.
Then he saw her.
For one suspended second, neither of them spoke.
His gaze dropped to her swollen belly, traveled to the ultrasound pictures scattered across the carpet, and returned to her face.
"Chloe?" he said.
She watched the surprise disappear from his expression. Concern replaced it so quickly that, under different circumstances, she might have believed it.
"What are you doing here, sweetheart?"
She wanted to slap him. She wanted to demand how many lies he'd told while kissing her stomach every night. Instead, another cramp twisted through her abdomen, forcing her to grip the doorframe.
Harrison immediately reached for her.
"Hey. What's wrong?"
"Don't touch me."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
His hand froze.
Behind him, four men sat around a table covered with expensive food and half-empty glasses. Every conversation had stopped. One man stared at the ultrasound pictures. Another suddenly became fascinated by his watch.
Chloe recognized none of them well enough to care.
She bent to retrieve the photographs, but Harrison stepped forward.
"Let me help."
"No."
Her voice trembled. She hated that it trembled.
She gathered the pictures herself, pressing them against her chest. The three tiny faces on the screen had become symbols of everything she didn't understand.
"How much did you hear?" Harrison asked quietly.
There it was.
Not Are you okay?
Not Do you need a doctor?
How much did you hear?
Chloe looked directly into his eyes.
"Enough."
His jaw tightened.
Then he smiled.
It was the smile he used when negotiating a contract with someone who thought they had leverage.
"You're upset. You're six months pregnant, and your hormones are all over the place. We should get you home."
"Whose babies am I carrying?"
One of his friends shifted in his chair.
Harrison's smile vanished.
"Not here."
"Whose babies?"
"Chloe, lower your voice."
She laughed once, a broken, disbelieving sound.
"You can discuss giving my children away over lunch, but I can't ask whose children they are?"
"You're misunderstanding something you overheard."
"Then explain it."
He glanced at the men behind him.
That glance told her more than his next sentence ever could.
"We'll talk privately."
A fresh wave of pain seized her. Her knees weakened, and Harrison caught her elbow despite her attempt to pull away.
"Get the car," he ordered one of his friends. "Now."
"I don't want your car."
"You need a hospital."
"I can call an ambulance."
"Don't be ridiculous."
The familiar authority in his voice snapped something inside her.
"Stop telling me what to do!"
The room went silent.
For the first time, Harrison looked genuinely uncertain.
Then his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, and Chloe saw a name before he turned it facedown.
DR. ELLIOT VALE.
She recognized it. Dr. Vale ran the fertility clinic where she'd received every injection, every examination, every reassuring explanation about the three embryos supposedly created from her and Harrison's genetic material.
Her mouth went dry.
"Call him," she whispered. "Call your doctor. Let's ask him together."
Harrison slipped the phone into his pocket.
"You're not thinking clearly."
A hotel employee appeared with a wheelchair. Harrison began guiding Chloe toward it, but she pulled away and reached for her own phone.
"I'm calling my obstetrician."
His expression hardened.
"Chloe, don't."
She stared at him.
That was the moment she understood something terrifying: Harrison wasn't merely afraid she would leave him.
He was afraid of what she might discover if someone else examined her medical records.
Chloe dialed 911.
Harrison lunged for the phone, but she stepped backward, protecting her abdomen with her free arm.
"Don't you dare touch me!"
The dispatcher answered.
Chloe gave the hotel address and explained that she was six months pregnant with triplets and experiencing severe abdominal pain.
Harrison stood motionless, surrounded by witnesses who suddenly refused to look at him.
As the paramedics arrived, Chloe clutched her ultrasound pictures and made one silent promise.
Whatever Harrison had planned for her children, he would never again make decisions about their lives without her knowledge.
But as the stretcher rolled toward the elevator, his phone lit up once more.
A message appeared on the screen.
THE TRANSFER DOCUMENTS ARE READY. WE NEED HER SIGNATURE BEFORE THE THIRTY-SECOND WEEK.
May you like
Chloe saw every word.
And Harrison knew she had.
