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  Delia sat back and frowned, staring at the message. How could she feel anything for the person who had betrayed her trust and gone against their marriage vows?
  He deserved everything that was thrown at him. 
  Delia swallowed hard and shook her head. There was no way she would get pulled back into her ex-husband's dramas. Whatever was going on with him and his mistress. Delia refused to be a part of that. 
  “I can look after myself,” she muttered under her breath as she pushed her body up from the chair and held a hand over her baby bump.
  “You and I are going to be just fine,” she promised the unborn baby. 
  “Oh, are you feeling okay, Delia? You look a bit unwell all of a sudden. Maybe I should take you home.” Delia looked up to see that her father had walked back in, and his eyes were full of concern. 
  “No, I'm fine, Dad, don't worry.” Delia forced a smile on her face. “I'm just feeling a bit tired,” she looked down at her bump as the baby kicked. It made Delia feel all warm and fuzzy. A quiet moment with just her and her baby. She thought about how evil Samantha was to try to destroy Thomas like that, but she did not think she should get involved. She had left her old life behind for a reason and wasn't about to let her ex-husband's crazy mistress ruin her. She belonged in an institution or something, the way that she was acting. 
  “Hmm, no, you need to return home, sweetheart. No arguments,” he spoke firmly, that Delia couldn't disobey. 
  “Frank, I need a favour,” he buzzed through to someone, and Delia frowned. Frank? Who was he? 
  Suddenly, a tall, handsome, muscular man stepped into the room. Delia’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open as she couldn't help but look him up and down. 
  “You called for me, boss?” the man smirked when he noticed Delia gawping at him, and he readjusted his blazer. 
  “Yes, Frank. I need you to accompany my daughter home, please. She's heavily pregnant as you can see, and right now she needs to rest up,” he insisted, eyeing his daughter with concern. “Delia, this is Frank. He will be your designated driver and look after you when I am not around or otherwise occupied,” he explained, and Delia felt as if she would faint at any given second. Her father had arranged for her to have someone follow her around and babysit her. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she was far too tired to make any objection. 
  “You can count on me. Come on, then, Miss Delia. Let's get you home.” Frank stepped aside and held the door open as Delia struggled to compose herself. 
  “Umm, okay, sure, I guess,” she stuttered, grabbing her bag and slowly standing up. She swallowed hard and tried not to look into his eyes. 
  “You make sure you get some rest at home, no worrying about anything, do you hear me?” Delias’s father told her as he hugged her goodbye. Delia managed to nod and followed Frank out of the office. 
  Delia’s eyes widened in surprise as she stepped out of the office into the cool night air. Parked nearby was a sleek, black luxury car—an Audi R8, she realised with awe and curiosity. Its polished surface reflected the streetlights, and the elegant lines of the vehicle spoke of wealth and power. She had seen cars like this in magazines, but never imagined she’d be getting into one herself.
  Frank approached the car confidently, pulling open the passenger door with a smooth motion. “After you,” he said, offering her his hand with a charming smile.
  She hesitated momentarily, then carefully slid into the plush leather seat. The interior was everything she had imagined: soft, black leather, polished metal accents, and a scent that was both new and intoxicating. As she settled in, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of admiration—not just for the car, but for Frank himself. His tall, muscular frame, the confident way he moved, the easy charm in his dark eyes. He was undeniably attractive, but she kept that thought to herself, wary of revealing any vulnerability.
  Frank closed the door gently and circled the vehicle, climbing into the driver’s seat. The engine purred to life beneath him, a deep, powerful sound that thrilled her. As he pulled onto the street, Delia looked out the window, watching the city lights blur past in a streak of gold and silver. Her mind was swirling with questions—who was Frank, and what was her father’s connection to him? But she didn’t ask. Instead, she looked ahead, her thoughts drifting.
  The silence in the car was comfortable, yet charged. Delia couldn’t ignore how her body responded to the sight of him—how her stomach fluttered whenever he caught her gaze in the rearview mirror. She told herself to focus on her pregnancy, on her unborn baby, on the promises she’d made to herself. She needed to stay strong. Whatever was happening, she would handle it—alone if she had to.
  Frank broke the silence with a soft chuckle. “You’re pretty quiet, Miss Delia. Are you feeling okay?”
  She took a breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
  He nodded, his eyes never leaving the road. “That’s understandable. Pregnancy can be exhausting, especially with everything going on. But I promise, I’ll ensure you get home safe and sound.”
  Her heart fluttered at his words, and she quickly looked away, focusing on the passing cityscape. She was acutely aware of how handsome he was—his sharp jawline, the strong line of his shoulders, the effortless way he seemed to exude confidence. She kept her feelings in check, reminding herself to stay cautious. Still, she couldn’t deny that she found him attractive, even if she didn't want to admit it aloud.
  Within moments, they arrived at her neighbourhood. The houses here were large, beautifully maintained, with manicured lawns and ornate gates. She directed him to her driveway, and he expertly navigated the car into its space, the engine humming softly as he turned it off.
  Delia slowly unfastened her seatbelt and felt a twinge of fatigue as she stretched, clutching her baby bump protectively. The cool air brushed against her skin, but she was too wrapped up in her thoughts to shiver.
  Frank approached her door and opened it with a gentle smile. “Well, Miss Delia, this is your stop. You’re going to be okay, I promise. Just get some rest, alright?”
  She nodded, trying to muster her usual strength. “Thank you. For the ride.”
  He looked at her with a hint of concern. “You’re welcome. And remember—if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. Here is my number,” he handed her a card, and she took it. 
  Her cheeks warmed slightly at his words. She gave him a small, polite smile and reached for her bag. 
  As she opened the door to her parents' house, she couldn’t help but steal a glance back at him. He was still leaning against the car, relaxed, confident. She felt a strange pull—an attraction she refused to analyse too deeply. She had enough on her mind without adding complicated feelings into the mix.
  As she stepped inside, she momentarily closed the door and leaned against it. Her mind was racing, but her body felt oddly relaxed now—almost comforted by the unexpected luxury of the ride. She took a deep breath, clutching her belly, and whispered to her unborn child, “We’re going to be just fine.”
  “Well, well. If it isn't the mighty Delia Henson,” a cold but familiar voice echoed, causing Delia to freeze.