Chapter 45 Have a Child for Me
Sloane's POV
Two hours later, the wild tide had finally receded, leaving only a messy silence.
I felt completely drained, lying motionless in the soft mattress.
Jared held me from behind, his solid chest pressed tightly against my back, his warm breath falling on my neck with a hint of post-storm laziness.
He rested his chin in the hollow of my shoulder, his arms tightening as if trying to meld me into his very bones.
"Sloane," he suddenly spoke, his voice particularly deep and hoarse in the morning stillness, "have a child for me."
My heart skipped a beat.
This sentence sounded so similar to my provocative words at the party, yet the tone was completely different.
I didn't turn around, quietly watching the sliver of light filtering through the curtain gap.
Above the ruins in my heart that he had destroyed with his own hands, a trace of hope I shouldn't have sprouted stubbornly because of these words.
Maybe Grandma and Annette were right.
Maybe he really did have feelings for me.
Maybe a child could truly be a new beginning for us, not a shackle to imprison me.
I instinctively touched my lower abdomen—what would happen if he knew I was already pregnant?
That faint flame slowly burned a scorching warmth through my cold limbs.
After a long while, I heard myself respond in a barely audible voice, "Okay."
His arms around me suddenly tightened, as if he'd received some precious promise, and he planted a burning kiss near my ear.
All the absurdity and torment of that night seemed to find reconciliation in this kiss. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep, exhausted and wrapped in that illusory tenderness.
In the middle of the night, I jolted awake from a dream, my heart pounding wildly.
In the dream, I was back in that cold, empty corridor, hearing over and over Aeneas's final accusation and Jared's devastating silence.
I was trapped in that deathly stillness, unable to break free no matter what.
I sat up gasping, cold sweat soaking my nightgown. The space beside me was already empty, leaving only a patch of cold wrinkles. Jared wasn't there.
An inexplicable panic rose in my heart. I threw off the covers and got out of bed, wanting to get some water.
Passing by the study, I noticed a faint line of light through the door crack, and his lowered voice could be heard faintly inside.
Something possessed me to stop and move closer to that heavy wooden door.
"...Yes, I'll handle Father's side regarding the inheritance." His voice carried a trace of fatigue but remained decisive. "I'll have her bear my child. Once the Montclair family has an heir, many problems will be solved."
My blood froze in that instant.
"Her? She's fine, emotionally stable too." He paused, his tone taking on a barely detectable irritation and disdain. "A child will keep her content—what other ideas could she have? Get the best obstetrician and nutritionist on standby."
Obstetrician... nutritionist...
Each word was like a poisoned blade stabbing viciously into my just-warmed heart.
So that's how it is.
I leaned against the cold wall and laughed silently.
Laughing at my own stupidity, at how I forgot the pain once the wound healed.
What clumsy pleading, what strange peace—all just my own wishful fantasies.
In his eyes, I was ultimately just a vessel to bear an heir, a tool that could be pacified and controlled with a child.
He didn't want a child with me—he just needed an heir for the Montclair family.
I was such a hopeless fool to soften again because of his momentary tenderness.
I turned to flee this suffocating place, but accidentally bumped into a decorative vase in the hallway.
A soft sound, particularly clear in the silent night.
The study door was instantly pulled open, and Jared's tall figure appeared in the doorway. He wore only a loosely buttoned shirt, and when he saw me, his eyes darkened.
He strode over and before I could react, pulled me into his arms from behind, his tone carrying a hint of reproach. "Why are you up? Did I disturb you?"
The warmth of his embrace, contrasted with those cold words from the phone call, created a huge disconnect that made me feel sick and mocked.
I struggled a bit but couldn't break free.
"Who were you on the phone with just now?"I looked up, trying to make my voice sound calm—the kind of casual question you'd ask after being woken up.
His gaze flickered, and his arms around me tightened, his tone dismissive. "Nobody, just some company matters. I'm sorry for waking you."
Again. A flippant brush-off to get rid of me.
He didn't even bother to come up with a more believable lie.
A sharp pain shot through my chest, dense and overwhelming, making it hard to breathe.
I lowered my eyes, hiding all emotion, my voice tinged with fatigue. "I'm fine, just had a nightmare."
"Don't be afraid." He lowered his head and kissed my forehead, but the touch made me shudder. "I still have some documents to handle. Go back to sleep."
I nodded obediently, withdrew from his embrace, turned and went back to the bedroom.
Lying in the cold bed, I stared at the ceiling with wide-open eyes, unable to sleep.
Jared thought I wanted to use a child to tie him down—he thought that was my entire purpose.
Tossing and turning, I suddenly sat up, as if making some kind of resolution.
Jared, you can have an heir.
But that child will never be the one in my belly right now.
This secret that belongs only to me, my only way out—I will never give you the chance to turn him into another tool to control me.
I don't know how long I slept. When I opened my eyes again, it was still pitch black outside.
The bed beside me was cold, without a trace of warmth, as if last night's extreme madness and descent was just my illusion.
I sat up, the blanket sliding from my shoulders, revealing bruises crisscrossing my body.
My heart ached with a hollow pain. I got out of bed barefoot, walking unsteadily toward the door, but suddenly stopped at the foot of the bed.
Jared was sitting there on the carpet, back against the bed frame, his entire figure shrouded in the faint morning light like a silent statue.
He sat there withered, eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, jawline tightly clenched, emanating an exhaustion and defeat of something burned out.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice hoarse from just waking up.
He didn't answer, didn't even move, as if he hadn't heard.
My gaze followed his hanging arm down to his right hand.