Chapter 122 Chapter One hundred and twenty-one
ARA
Gabe’s voice poured out of the phone like a snake’s venom.
“I know you think you’ve got all the connections and power in the state,” he sneered, “but listen closely, nobody’s on your side right now. Ara is weak, and we both know it. If you don’t do the needful within five days, my lawyer will make a statement.”
Something inside me went very still. He was threatening Thayne? No wonder Thayne took him seriously.
“Are you that lame, Gabe?” I cut in, my lips moving before my brain even realised it. “Or just that desperate for his money?”
There was a pause, a sharp intake of breath and a low curse he muttered under his breath. Gabe cursed a lot, like a sailor, I wasn't surprised the habit hadn't gone away.
“What—Ara?” His voice shifted, disbelief cracking through the arrogance. “How did you—”
“You’re threatening my husband over me,” I said, laying emphasis on each word deliberately. “Calling me weak while hiding behind lawyers and deadlines.”
“You shouldn’t be on that line,” he snapped. “This is between men.”
“Funny,” I replied. “Because the only reason you have a case at all is because you’re trying to drag me into it.”
Silence stretched for a long moment. Then he laughed. Gosh, I hated his laughter.
What made me fall in love with him?!
“You really want to do this now? You’re pregnant, emotional—”
“Say it,” I interrupted. “Say what you’re actually claiming.”
There was another pause, and it was longer this time.
“That child might not be his,” Gabe said finally. “And you know it. I know you have doubts, too.”
My grip tightened on the phone, my free hand pressing instinctively to my stomach.
“No,” I said calmly. “You know it’s his. And you’re lying because it’s the only leverage you have left.”
His breathing changed, just slightly.
“You know the timeline, Gabe. Don't bother trying to twist the truth. You know when we stopped sleeping together. Even before then, I was on the pills.” I said pointedly.
“You don’t have proof,” he said, but the earlier confidence was gone now.
“I do,” I replied. “And so does he. Medical records. Dates. Plus the DNA tests he ran to confirm the pregnancy is his.” I leaned back against the door, my eyes closing briefly. “So tell me, Gabe, who put you up to this?”
That landed. He coughed and cleared his throat.
“Because you’re not brave enough to do this on your own,” I said softly. “Someone promised you protection. Or money. Or both.”
He didn’t answer. But his silence told me everything.
“I will get you back, Ara. You’re mine, and that pregnancy you’re carrying?” Gabe hissed. “I put it in there.”
Then the line went dead.
I bit down on my lip, hard, tasting copper as I tightened my grip on the phone. My hands were shaking now, not from fear, but from fury.
“ARA?”
Thayne’s voice cut through the haze from the hallway.
I moved away from the door just as it slid open, and he walked in like he owned the air in the room, everything about him oozing control and authority.
His gaze dropped immediately to the phone in my hand, and something dark flickered in his eyes.
“What have you done?” he asked calmly.
“I needed to confirm things for myself,” I said, lifting my chin. “But the phone rang before I got the chance.”
He took the device from me without touching my fingers. “You spoke to your ex,” he said, not asking. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t need to tell him anything,” I replied. “He did all the talking.”
Thayne frowned, clenching one fist by his side. “What did he say?”
I met his eyes, refusing to soften it. “He gave you five days to do the needful.”
A beat passed. Then another. Thayne’s expression didn’t change, but the air in the room did. He turned away slowly, setting the phone down with deliberate care, like anything less might shatter something.
“And?” he said quietly. “What else?”
I swallowed. “He claimed the baby is his.”
Thayne froze.
“But he slipped,” I added quickly. “He panicked when I mentioned timelines. He knows the truth. He’s bluffing, and I think someone is backing him.”
Thayne’s hands curled into fists.
“He crossed a line,” he said softly. “One he doesn’t get to walk back from.”
“This isn’t just about money,” I pressed. “He said I was his. That the baby was his.” My voice wavered despite myself. “That’s not a lawsuit, Thayne. That’s obsession.”
He turned back to me then, really looking at me, at my face, my stomach, the fear I hadn’t let surface until now.
“You shouldn’t have faced him alone,” he said.
“I’m not weak,” I shot back. “And I’m not a prize you get to fight over. You let a crook like Gabe get inside your head,” I tried not to yell, I tried to speak calmly, but it was just so difficult. “You ignored me for days, and now you’re just going to pretend we’re a team?”
He didn’t answer. The answer was clear like n his face.
“I’m done with this conversation,” I added, the words brittle. “You can have the phone. I don’t need it anymore.”
I pressed the device into his hand and turned away before he could see the tremor in mine, walking toward the wide bed like it was the only solid thing left in the room.
Behind me, there was no protest. No apology from him.
The door opened, and I forced myself not to flinch as it closed again, the soft click echoing in the bedroom.
It was what I needed, wasn’t it? Space. Distance. Time to breathe.
So why did my chest ache like something had been torn loose? Why did the silence feel heavier than any of the fights, the guns, the threats?
I curled onto my side, one hand resting over my stomach, the other clutching the sheets.
Space wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. And yet, lying there alone, I couldn’t shake the terrifying thought that maybe what I was feeling wasn’t space at all, but the beginning of losing him.
Gabe had said earlier that Thayne had five days to do the needful. What was the ‘needful’?