Faye sat at the edge of the grimy hotel bed, staring at the crumbling wallpaper and the single dim bulb that flickered ominously overhead. The city hummed outside, a constant low roar of traffic and neon lights flashing through the thin curtains. This was the place she had escaped to—one of the few corners of the city where people didn't ask questions, where no one cared who you were, as long as you paid.
Her phone buzzed again. It was Alaric's third message in less than an hour, each more curt than the last.
Alaric: You can't avoid this forever.
She shoved the phone deep into her bag, ignoring the dread that pooled in her stomach. She was getting good at pretending. Pretending she wasn't pregnant. Pretending she hadn't just slapped Lady Meline, throwing herself into the spotlight. Pretending she could outrun a man as powerful as Alaric.
But the truth was catching up to her, faster than she could handle.
Faye wrapped her arms around her middle, her mind drifting back to the last time she saw him—really saw him. Months ago, when the world had felt different. When she had still believed in the tiny hope that Alaric cared for her, not for the ghost of his fiancée. It was a fleeting memory, of a night where his walls had come down just enough, and their shared grief had turned into something else—something more.
And now she was carrying his twins.
The weight of the secret had crushed her ever since. She hadn't known what to do at first. Should she tell him? Would he even care? Or worse—would he use the children, twist this unexpected connection between them into something dark and cold, like everything else he touched?
She couldn't take that chance.
A knock at the door jerked her from her thoughts. Faye froze. No one knew where she was, not even her closest friends. Her pulse quickened.
The knock came again, harder this time. She crept to the door, heart pounding, and looked through the peephole. Her breath hitched.
It wasn't Alaric.
But it wasn't much better.
Standing outside the door was Nikos, Alaric's right-hand man, the enforcer who made sure his business interests were never compromised. His presence sent a chill down her spine. Where Nikos went, Alaric's influence wasn't far behind.
Faye knew she couldn't hide any longer. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever was about to come. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the door and cracked it open just a fraction.
Nikos's eyes met hers, calm but assessing. "Faye," he greeted, his voice cool and professional. "We need to talk."
"I'm not interested," Faye said, trying to shut the door, but Nikos was faster. He placed his hand on the doorframe, holding it open.
"I'm afraid it's not up to you anymore," he said, his voice low. "Alaric's been looking for you."
"I don't care." Faye tightened her grip on the door, her voice sharp with defiance. "I'm done with him. Done with all of it."
Nikos's gaze flickered down to her midsection, and for a horrifying second, Faye thought he knew. But he said nothing about her pregnancy, only sighed softly. "You can't run forever, Faye. Sooner or later, he'll find you."
"I'll take my chances," she snapped, her pulse hammering in her ears. She was losing control of the conversation, of her own fear. Nikos wasn't the kind of man who made empty threats.
Nikos tilted his head, studying her with a look that was too perceptive for her comfort. "Alaric isn't the only danger out there. You've made enemies tonight. Powerful ones. Meline and her family will come for you."
Faye faltered, her grip loosening on the door. She hadn't considered that. In her rush to escape, she had forgotten just how ruthless the elites of the city could be. They wouldn't let her public humiliation of Meline go unanswered. The slap was more than just an insult—it was an act of defiance in a world where power was everything.
"I can protect myself," Faye muttered, but even she didn't believe it. Not really.
Nikos stepped back, giving her space, but his message was clear. "He just wants to talk, Faye. That's all."
Faye's laugh was bitter. "Since when does Alaric 'just talk'?"
Nikos didn't answer. Instead, he pulled a card from his coat pocket and handed it to her. It was black, simple, with a single name embossed in silver: The King's Court—the high-end, private club Alaric owned in the heart of the city. She had been there once, years ago, back when she was nothing more than a naïve assistant with a crush on the boss.
Nikos's voice was soft but firm. "If you don't meet with him, things will get worse. Not just for you, but for everyone around you."
The unspoken threat hung in the air between them. It wasn't just about her anymore. Faye clenched the card in her hand, her knuckles white.
Nikos nodded slightly, as if he could see her decision already forming. "Tomorrow night. He'll be waiting."
Faye closed the door without another word. She leaned against it, breathing hard, her fingers clutching the card tightly. She had thought leaving would be the hardest part. But now, the stakes were rising, and she was running out of options.
Alaric wasn't going to let her go. Not without a fight.
And she wasn't sure if she could keep him from discovering the truth for much longer.
Tomorrow night, everything would change. One way or another.