Chapter 72 Chapter Seventy-one
ARA
I broke down later in the bedroom, the silence crashing over me like a wave I couldn’t outswim.
The tears came hot and sudden, burning tracks down my cheeks as I sank to the edge of the bed.
My fingers dug into my hair, twisting, pulling hard enough that strands came loose in my fist.
The sting was nothing compared to the ache inside my chest.
Madison had won. She’d been weaving this web for so long l, patient, smiling, waiting for the perfect moment to pull the threads tight.
And I’d walked straight into it.
Why hadn’t I seen it?
Why had I let myself hope, even for a second, that last night meant something?
That the way Thayne had whispered my real name in his sleep was a crack in the amnesia, a sign he was coming back to me?
I’d been so desperate for him to remember that I’d ignored every warning sign.
I’d let him inside my body again, let him mark me, claim me, wreck me all over.
And for what?
So Madison could twist it into something dirty and disposable?
My shoulders shook with sobs I couldn’t hold back.
I felt small. Used. And stupid.
The bruises on my thighs throbbed with every heartbeat, reminders of how completely I’d surrendered.
How I’d begged. How I’d come apart under him while he was drunk on whiskey and instinct, not love.
Not memory. Not me.
I pressed my face into my hands, my nails biting into my scalp, trying to hold the pieces of myself together.
Everything hurt so much. Not just my body. My soul felt cracked open, raw and bleeding.
I’d fought so hard to survive this world he’d dragged me into.
I’d learned to play his games, to wear his ring.
And now? Now I was nothing. Just a clingy stranger, a homeless charity case. A mistake he wanted erased.
I curled forward, my arms wrapped around my middle, rocking slightly as the sobs tore out of me.
They were quiet at first, then louder. Until my throat burned and my eyes stung and I couldn’t breathe through the pain.
Madison had taken everything from me. The photos. The proof. The last shred of dignity I had left.
And Thayne… Thayne had believed her.
He’d looked disgusted.
The man who had once killed for me, who had carried me out of fire, who had whispered “mine” like a prayer.
He’d looked at me like I was trash.
I didn’t know how long I sat there. Maybe minutes or hours.
Tears soaked the sheets. I rocked harder. The pain wasn’t just emotional, it was deep and physical. A deep, gnawing sorrow in my bones.
I was a hollow, scooped out, empty shell.
I stayed curled, grief swallowing whole, until I tried to stand.
A sharp, vicious prick stabbed me low in the abdomen, stealing my breath.
I clutched my stomach, my fingers digging into the flesh, breathing through the fire.
I pushed to my feet anyway, and the room swayed.
My legs buckled, and I pitched forward, my arms flailing for lost balance.
“Ahhh!”
The scream tore out from me, raw, unstoppable, as pain exploded and the floor rushed up to meet me.
Right then, the door slid open. Thayne walked in first, then Madison followed , right beside him, her arm looped through his like she belonged there.
Escorts poured in behind them, filling the room with their silent, watchful presence.
My breath caught. I was still on the floor, crumpled, the sheet tangled around my legs, my face streaked with tears.
My nody aching from the cramp that had knocked me down.
Thayne’s eyes found me immediately. They narrowed, sharp and confused, taking in the scene: me sprawled, wrecked, vulnerable.
Then Madison smiled. A Victorious, radiant smile, like she’d just won the war.
“I asked her to pack up and leave,” she said, voice light, almost amused. “But she wouldn’t. I’ve never seen anyone grovel this hard.”
The word ‘grovel’ hit like a slap.
I tried to speak. “Please… help.”
The words came out croaked instead. Weak and barely audible over the pounding in my ears.
Thayne stepped forward, his instincts kicking in, his hand already reaching for me.
Madison’s fingers tightened on his arm, stopping him cold.
“You’ve done enough for this bitch,” she said in a sweet voice that was laced with venom. “It’s high time she left.”
I groaned as the escorts moved in, two of them grabbing my arms, hauling me up like I was trash to be taken out.
Their grip was rough and impersonal. Pain shot through my abdomen again, sharper this time, twisting like a knife.
I nearly blacked out, my vision blurring and dancing, my legs buckling under me.
Thayne’s face changed. Something fierce flashed in his eyes.
He shoved Madison aside, hard enough that she stumbled, her heels scraping the floor.
“Let go of her,” he barked.
The escorts released me instantly. I sagged, but Thayne was there.
He scooped me up bridal style, one arm under my knees, the other around my back, pulling me against his chest.
His heart pounded against my ear, fast, furious.
Madison’s face twisted with hate.
Pure, ugly hate. And something else. Fear.
“She’s an attention seeker,” she cried, voice rising, shrill. “Don’t you see it?”
Thayne ignored her completely. He started walking, carrying me out of the bedroom like I weighed nothing.
Madison’s yells followed us down the hall.
But the cramp hit again, vicious and blinding.
I gasped, my fingers digging into Thayne's shirt.
The world tilted, black waves crashed over me.
I couldn’t fight them, my eyes fluttered shut, and everything went dark.
I woke to voices cutting through the fog in my head.
One male, deep and commanding.One female, calm, professional.
My eyelids fluttered open, heavy as lead. The light was too bright, sterile white, stinging my eyes.
A woman leaned over me. She appeared to be in her mid-forties. She was wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around her neck.
Her eyes were soft with concern, her brows drawn together in quiet worry.
“What…” My voice cracked, dry as sandpaper. “What am I doing here? What happened?”
She gave me a small, reassuring smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“You’re in the hospital, Miss Ara.”
My heart stuttered in my chest.
“What, why?”
The last thing I remembered was Thayne’s arms around me, strong and warm, carrying me out of the bedroom.
The pain in my abdomen, the darkness swallowing me whole.
The doctor hesitated, glancing at the chart in her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said gently, “but you were poisoned. It nearly killed your unborn child.”
The world stopped. Unborn child?
The words echoed in my skull, loud and impossible.
I stared at her with my mouth wide agape, but no sound came out.
She watched my face, sympathy deepening the lines around her eyes.
“Fortunately,” she continued softly, “you’re past the first month. The fetus was strong enough to survive. You’re both stable now.”
The words swam in my head. Unborn child. Poison.
I wasn't just pregnant. Someone had tried to poison me. I didn't even need to rack my head for who it could be.
Madison. But how could she have known I was pregnant?
Did Thayne know already?