Chapter 242
Sophia's POV
I woke to the familiar ache in my abdomen—a dull, persistent throb that reminded me how close I'd come to losing everything. My ribs burned where Lucas had gripped me, but it was the deeper pain, the one that radiated from my core, that made my breath catch. The blood loss had left me weak, my limbs heavy as lead, and for a terrifying moment I wondered if the baby was still...
I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling for any sign of life. The slight swell was still there, unchanged.
Still alive. Still trapped.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
My fingers pressed harder against the thin hospital gown, as if I could somehow confirm what the doctor had said. Nine weeks. Still viable.
It didn't make sense. After all that bleeding, all that pain—this baby should be gone.
But it wasn't.
And Lucas knew.
I lifted my gaze to find him standing near the window, his back rigid, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He hadn't said a word since the doctor left. Just stood there, silent and tense, like he was waiting for me to detonate.
Well. He wouldn't have to wait long.
"The baby's still here," I said, my voice flat and emotionless. "I'm surprised it didn't miscarry after last night."
He didn't turn around.
I let out a bitter laugh. "You don't want me pregnant with your child, do you?"
Still nothing.
"You should help me schedule an abortion," I continued, each word deliberate and cold. "That way you can watch. Make sure I actually go through with it. Make sure I don't try to run or hide or keep something that was never supposed to exist in the first place."
That got his attention.
Lucas turned slowly, his eyes dark and unreadable. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me." I met his gaze without flinching. "I'll get rid of it. Under your supervision, if that makes you feel better. At least then you won't have to worry about being tied to me for the rest of your life."
For a moment, he just stared at me.
Then, suddenly, he moved.
---
Lucas crossed the room in three strides. Before I could react, his hands were on my shoulders, gripping hard enough to make me gasp.
"You really want to get rid of it that badly?" His voice was low, trembling with barely controlled fury. "You hate the idea of carrying my child so much that you'd rather kill it?"
I stared up at him, my heart pounding. His fingers dug into my skin, sending sharp jolts of pain down my arms.
"Let go of me—"
"Answer the question, Sophia." His grip tightened. "Do you really want this baby gone?"
My breath came in short, shallow bursts. "What do you think? You've made it perfectly clear what I am to you. A prisoner. A toy. Something you can use and discard whenever you feel like it. Why would I want to bring a child into this nightmare?"
His jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack.
I slammed my fist against my chest, the gesture sharp and desperate. "Am I a masochist? Is that what you think? That I'd willingly give birth to a baby who'll grow up being called a bastard? A child who'll be mocked and pitied because its mother is locked in a cage while its father parades around with his perfect fiancée?"
Lucas's eyes flashed, but he didn't let go.
"I can't give this baby happiness," I continued, my voice breaking. "I can't give it a normal life. I can't give it anything. So yes, Lucas. Yes, I want it gone. Because that would be kinder than subjecting it to this hell."
Silence.
Then, slowly, his expression shifted.
The anger didn't fade. If anything, it hardened into something colder. Something more terrifying.
"If you don't want to have it," he said quietly, "then I'll make sure you do."
I blinked. "What?"
"You heard me." He leaned closer, his breath hot against my face. "You're going to carry this baby. You're going to give birth. And you're going to keep it."
"You can't—"
"I can. And I will."
My blood turned to ice. "Why? What do you possibly gain from this?"
His lips curved into a cruel smile. But his eyes—his eyes were empty.
"Because I want you to suffer."
---
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating.
I stared at him, my vision blurring. "What?"
"You heard me." He straightened up, releasing my shoulders but not stepping back. "I want you to feel every second of it. The sickness. The exhaustion. The fear. I want you to lie awake at night, terrified of what's coming. I want you to carry this baby knowing that every day, you're one step closer to being tied to me forever."
A sob caught in my throat.
"You think you can just erase me from your life?" he continued, his voice soft and vicious. "This baby will make sure that never happens. Every time you look at it, you'll see my face. Every time it cries, you'll hear my voice. And you'll know—you'll know—that you can never escape me."
I couldn't breathe.
My hands trembled as I wiped at my eyes. "Then just kill me," I whispered. "If you want me to suffer so badly, just kill me. Wouldn't that hurt more?"
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then, slowly, he reached out and cupped my face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle—almost tender.
But his words were anything but.
"Don't even think about it," he said quietly. "Because if you die, Sophia, your parents will suffer. And I'll make sure they know it's your fault."
My breath hitched.
"So no." His thumb brushed away a tear. "You don't get to die. You don't get to escape. You're going to stay right here, with me, and live with the consequences of every choice you've made."
I wanted to scream. To fight. To claw his eyes out.
But I couldn't.
Because he was right.
If I died, my parents would pay the price.
And I couldn't let that happen.
"You…" My voice cracked. "I regret ever meeting you."
---
Lucas's expression darkened. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, suffocating.
Then, suddenly, his hands were in my hair, tilting my head back.
"Don't say that," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you dare say that."
Before I could respond, his lips crashed down on mine.
The kiss was slow. Deliberate. Punishing.
He kissed me like he was trying to consume me, his mouth moving against mine with a controlled ferocity that left me breathless. I couldn't pull away. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but feel the weight of him pressing down on me, stealing the air from my lungs.
When he finally pulled back, I gasped for breath, my chest heaving.
He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"It's too late for regrets, Sophia."
My vision swam. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.
Claire.
She was standing just outside the doorway, half-hidden behind the frame. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with shock.
She'd heard everything.
Panic flared in my chest. But instead of shrinking back, I did something I hadn't planned.
I reached up and pulled Lucas closer, pressing my lips to his.
He stiffened in surprise, but then his hands moved to my waist, pulling me against him.
When I finally pulled back, I looked him straight in the eye.
"Why can't you just let me go, Lucas?" My voice was soft, almost seductive. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"
His gaze darkened.
I tilted my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "Unless… you're still in love with me."
His jaw tightened.
"Maybe you should just marry me instead," I continued, my tone mocking. "Give the baby your name. Make it legitimate."
For a second, he looked like he might actually consider it.
But before he could answer, the door slammed open.
Claire stormed in, her face twisted with fury.
"What the hell are you two doing?"