Chapter 104 Chapter 103
Ara
It was exactly three weeks and three days since Thayne put me on that jet to Paris.
I had stopped waiting for him.
At first I counted the hours, then the days, then the minutes between meals I could barely eat. Somewhere between week two and three, the hope turned sour. I told myself he would come back, that he had to, because he had promised.
But promises felt like lies when you were alone in a foreign city with no phone, no contact, no way to know if he was even alive.
I thought of Millie and Mollie every second. They'd been put through a lot simply because our step-father thought it would be smart to steal from a billionaire.
I tried to protect them with my body, heart and soul. But it seemed now that none of that mattered.
I started imagining the worst. That he had found someone else, some tall, sharp-cheeked woman from Hollywood or one of the old New York families, someone who knew how to play the game, someone who could stand beside him without breaking.
Someone who could help him win the war against my father and his own without dragging along a pregnant wife who had become more liability than partner.
The thought made me sick in a different way than the pregnancy ever did.
I was just finishing my morning yoga, slow stretches on the yoga mat, trying to keep my body strong for the twins, when the news anchor’s voice from the television cut through the quiet apartment.
The volume was low, so I rushed to increase it.
“…Thayne Slade, the disowned heir of Slade Corps, has been reported dead in what authorities are calling a deadly car explosion. Witnesses describe a masked figure spotted near the vehicle moments before the blast—”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. No, jo, no.
I moved so fast my vision blurred. My legs carried me across the room before I could think, stopping in front of the massive television screen mounted on the wall.
The headline scrolled in bold red letters across the bottom:
THAYNE SLADE DEAD IN EXPLOSION – AUTHORITIES CONFIRM…….
A grainy security footage played on the screen. It was nighttime, and there was a black car on a quiet street, flames erupting in a sudden, violent boom.
A figure in dark clothes stood at the edge of the frame, his face hidden from view, then disappeared into the shadows.
My knees gave out. I hit the floor hard, my palms slapping the marble, but I didn’t feel the pain.
I stared at the screen, at the looping footage, at the headline that wouldn’t change no matter how many times I blinked.
No. It couldn’t be. Thayne was too careful. He was too strong. He was…. too everything.
I read the words again. And again. Thayne Slade dead.
The anchor kept talking, describing details about the investigation, speculation about revenge and power tussle between Slade Senior, Jimmy Ackerfield and Thayne. There were mentions of Slade Corps stock plunging, but the sound faded to a dull roar in my ears.
My hands went to my belly. How could they be discussing stocks already when he was gone?
They killed him. They’d been trying for weeks, and they’d finally succeeded.
I pressed my forehead to the cool marble floor and let the first scream tear out of me.
It started low, then built until it filled the entire penthouse, echoing off the high ceilings, bouncing from the glass windows. I screamed until my throat burned.
I tore at my hair, my fingers twisting in the strands, pulling hard enough to hurt.
My nails raked down my neck, scratching deep until thin lines of blood welled up and trickled warm down my chest.
I saw it over and over in my mind, the black car, the sudden bloom of fire, Thayne inside it, burning.
I watched him go up in flames. I couldn't get it out of my head. It was engraved in my memory forever.
“ARA?”
The voice cut through the noise like a blade.
I froze, my body tightening at the sound of my name. Something wasn't right.
I lifted my head slowly, tears blurring everything.
Thayne stood a few feet away. He looked like a rougher, broken version of the man I loved. His white shirt was torn and soaked with blood, the sleeves were ripped, exposing raw bruises and fresh cuts that hadn’t been cleaned.
His hair was longer, wild, matted with dirt and dried blood. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his jaw was covered in days-old stubble.
He was breathing. He was real. But…. I saw him in the news…
I screamed again, this time from shock, from terror, from hope that felt like it would rip me apart.
I scrambled backward on my ass, my heels slipping on the marble.
“No, no, no….” The word came out in broken gasps. “You’re dead. You’re dead.”
He took one step forward. I flinched hard, slamming back against the couch.
“Don’t—” My voice cracked. “Don’t come closer.”
He stopped. His hands lifted slowly, palms out, like he was calming a frightened animal.
“I’m not dead,” he said, his voice rougher than I remembered, like it had been scraped raw. “I never was.”
I shook my head, the tears streaming faster.
“I saw the explosion in the news. They said—”
“They were wrong.” He crouched slowly, keeping some distance between us. “It was staged. My car going up in flames was a decoy. It was a mannequin in the driver's seat, not me. I needed them to think I was gone.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving.
“You let me think you were dead.”
His jaw clenched.
“I had to. If they knew I was alive, they’d come after you again, harder and faster. I needed them to relax, to celebrate, let their guards down and make mistakes.”
“You sent me here alone. I cried, thinking you were gone forever.” I yelled out the words because I didn't want it to end in a broken whisper.
He closed his eyes for a second, pain flashing across his face.
“I know.”
“You didn’t call. You didn’t send word. Nothing from you, nothing from my sisters. I thought about you all everyday. I lost myself, Thayne.”
“I couldn’t risk it.” His voice dropped lower. “Every line, message, or call, they could trace it back to you. I was trying to protect you.”
I pressed my hands to my face, smearing blood and tears together.
“I screamed for you,” I whispered. “I thought I lost you. You said cold words to me before leaving me last month. I thought… you didn't want me anymore.”
He moved then, closing the gap until he knelt right in front of me.
I opened my mouth to scold him some more, to tell him how much it hurt, how empty the days had been, how I’d screamed until my throat bled thinking he was gone forever.
But his lips claimed mine before a single word could escape.