Ivy’s breath came faster, her heart racing beneath the thin hospital sheets. "Oh my God!" she whispered. "The wedding. He’s going to think I abandoned him. He’s going to think I didn’t love him enough to show up." She grabbed the rail of the bed and tried to pull herself upright, gasping as pain tore through her abdomen.

"Please, I have to get out of here. I need to find him."

"Ivy!" Evans’s voice thundered. "You were raped, stabbed—because of him!" His chest heaved as he fought to steady his breathing, the anger giving way to anguish. "If you do not care about your own safety, at least think about the child you are carrying."

Her eyes widened, her lips parting in disbelief. "The... the what?" she whispered. Her mind went blank for a second. Then her gaze darted to her abdomen. "No," she breathed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "No, that can’t be—"

"You didn’t know." Evans exhaled. He scrubbed a hand down his face, eyes softening.

"I’m sorry, I’m an idiot. I should’ve been more sensitive. Yes, the doctor said you’re about two months along. But whoever planned to hurt you... they’re still out there, Ivy. We don’t know who they are—man or woman. I’ve gone to great lengths to keep you hidden, and safe." He paused, leaning closer.

"I realize you don’t know me, and I have no right over your decisions. But all I’m asking for... is to let me keep you and your mother safe. I’ll find Trish too, believe me. I swear it."

Her hand unconsciously moved to her stomach.

That man had touched her.

Violated her.

While she was carrying life.

The nausea hit first, followed by the trembling. Her throat closed up, and she bit her lip, trying to stop the sob that escaped. But she couldn’t. The tears came, silent at first, then rough and unrestrained. It was shame, confusion.

"Ivy..."

"Please," she whispered. "Don’t say anything. Just... please."

He nodded as he turned away to give her privacy. He could fix everything else — but not her broken heart.

Ivy wiped her eyes, her fingers trembling. He’s going to think I abandoned him

*****

Tom was ushered into Sharona’s penthouse apartment, and the second the door clicked shut behind him, the storm broke loose.

"Why do you always do things half-baked?"

Sharona was lounging in the chair, legs crossed, shoes off, her painted toes brushing the edge of the Persian rug.

"Calm down, Mr. Kane," she said. "Why are you always so serious?"

"I gave specific instructions," Tom bit out. "I said she wasn’t to be harmed. Frighten her, get her to cancel the wedding, put her on a plane to somewhere far away. By the time she makes it back, Winn wouldn’t believe for a minute that she didn’t get cold feet." He leaned forward, eyes hard as glass.

"I know my son. His trust issues are legendary. But now, because of this stunt, Sylvia’s made the connection between Diane’s death and Ivy’s disappearance. She will talk."

Sharona let out a low whistle, leaning back with feline amusement. "Then handle Sylvia. She got what she wanted, didn’t she? What’s she fussing about now?"

"Where is Ivy?" he demanded.

Sharona drew her knees up, resting her chin on them, eyes darting away. "I don’t know. The men went off script."

Tom turned slowly and she could feel the weight of his disappointment before he spoke.

"They got greedy," she continued quickly. "Allowed their penises to do the thinking. Someone saved her. But they said they’re sure she didn’t make it. So, there’s nothing to be afraid of."

"Really? My son’s fiancée and my daughter’s ex-boyfriend’s wife turn up dead on the same day. Tell me that won’t raise questions," Tom said. "Tell me that someone isn’t going to see a pattern here. Some nosy reporter, a persistent investigator—someone’s going to start digging."

"Diane’s death was an accident, unless you didn’t stage it well. Ivy was just...unfortunate circumstances. No way they will link the two. People are stupidly good at ignoring patterns they don’t want to see." She tossed her hair back and added with a smirk, "Besides, coincidences happen."

Tom stopped pacing, throwing her a glare. "Are you not listening? Sylvia already made the connection! She knows. She thinks. That’s dangerous. Do you understand? She will talk if we don’t act fast."

Sharona rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "Then handle her—or I will. You brought a deal worth thousands of billions of dollars to me, Mr. Kane. I am not going to let your spoiled princess get in the way of it. Deal with it. I can play nice, but my patience isn’t infinite, and your family’s drama doesn’t concern me."

Tom exhaled slowly, running a hand over his forehead. "How are you going to get Winn to notice you again? Sylvia is still out for now. He’s fragile right now—if we push too hard, too fast..."

Sharona cut him off, already calculating. "When is Diane’s funeral?"

"In a week, I think," Tom replied.

Sharona’s eyes glinted. "Well then, I am just going to attend... to sympathize, won’t I?"

"I hope you do know what you are doing," Tom said.

Sharona shrugged lightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at her lips. "I agree. Your son has been my most difficult target. But he was in love, and that’s why he was difficult. Now that he’s heartbroken and available, the field is wide open." She paused dramatically, tilting her head as if savoring the mental image of the impending game.

"Easy peasy. I shoot, I score." Her grin widened, a combination of satisfaction and dark amusement. "He won’t even see it coming."

Tom sank into a chair, rubbing at his temple. "You make it sound too easy," he muttered, a wry edge in his voice.

"It is easy when you know what you’re doing," Sharona said with a shrug, as if that alone explained the hundreds of minor manipulations, threats, and subtle nudges she’d orchestrated. "And when it isn’t easy... well, that’s where the fun starts."