Chapter 243
Sophia's POV
I let go of Lucas immediately, stepping back as though his touch burned me. My voice came out sharper than I intended, defensive and raw. "Don't get the wrong idea. There's nothing between us."
Claire's face twisted—hurt, fury, and something darker all at once. Her eyes locked on Lucas, searching for denial, for reassurance, for something.
"Lucas." Her voice trembled, but there was steel underneath. "What was that about a child? About getting married? Lucas, what is going on?” She paused, her breath catching. "Did you even think about me? Did you remember, for one second, that I'm your fiancée?"
Lucas said nothing. His jaw tightened, his gaze fixed somewhere past her shoulder, as though the weight of her question was too much to meet head-on.
I watched the silence stretch between them from where I sat on the hospital bed, watched Claire's composure crack further with every second he refused to speak. And despite everything—despite the hatred simmering in my chest, despite the suffocating mess we were all trapped in—I felt a strange, hollow pang of pity for her.
She didn't deserve this. Not really.
But then again, neither did I.
I pressed a hand to my stomach, fingers splaying over the slight swell that no one else could see yet. The cramping had finally subsided, but the weakness from blood loss still made my head spin if I moved too quickly.
Even so, there was a twisted satisfaction in watching Lucas squirm. In knowing that, for once, he was the one caught between impossible choices.
Good, I thought bitterly. Let him feel what it's like to be cornered.
"She's right, you know," I said from my position on the bed, my voice soft but cutting. "Lucas didn't mean it that way." I forced myself to meet Claire's gaze as I lied. "What happened between us... it was a mistake. A one-night thing. I got pregnant by accident."
I swallowed hard, tasting bile. "Just now, I was trying to convince him to give the baby his name. But I know he'd never allow that." I glanced at Lucas, letting a bitter smile touch my lips. "After all, the person he loves most in this world is you."
Claire's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but there was something calculating beneath the vulnerability.
She looked at Lucas, her voice breaking just enough to sound fragile. "Is that true, Lucas?"
I wanted to laugh. To scream. To shake her and tell her to stop playing the wounded lamb when she was just as much a predator as he was.
But instead, I sat there on the hospital bed, watching Lucas's face darken, watching the muscle in his jaw tick as he weighed his options.
And God help me, I felt a sick thrill in knowing I'd just made his life a little bit harder.
---
Lucas exhaled slowly, his eyes flicking to me for just a second before returning to Claire. When he finally spoke, his voice carried that familiar edge of absolute authority. "The situation will be handled appropriately. I don't make decisions based on accidents or emotions." He paused, his gaze hardening as he looked at Claire. "You should know that by now."
But I caught it—the slight tightening around his eyes, the way his fingers flexed almost imperceptibly. He was lying. The bastard was actually lying to her face.
Claire's breath hitched. She looked between us, her expression wavering between relief and suspicion.
Then Lucas turned to her, his tone carrying that dangerous softness that meant he was barely restraining himself. "You went too far this time, Claire. I don't appreciate interference in my affairs. From anyone."
I sat frozen on the bed, watching him play his game. The way he said "handled appropriately" instead of promising outright to end the pregnancy. The careful choice of words that could mean anything he wanted them to mean later.
Of course. He wanted to keep his options open. Keep both of us exactly where he could control us.
Claire's face crumpled slightly. "You care about her that much?" Her voice was small now, wounded. "More than you care about me?"
Lucas stepped closer to her, his presence immediately dominating the space. "You're asking the wrong questions, Claire. This isn't about caring. It's about what serves my interests." He glanced at me again, and I saw the cold calculation there. "She's carrying something that belongs to me. That makes her useful. For now."
Useful. Not nothing. Useful.
The distinction made my blood run cold, because I understood exactly what he meant. I wasn't a person to him—I was a vessel. A means to an end.
And Claire, poor desperate Claire, was just another piece on his chessboard.
"You're the one I'm going to marry," he said to Claire, his voice firm and commanding. "That hasn't changed. But you need to understand that I make the decisions about how my property is managed."
Property. He was talking about me like I was property.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, forcing myself to stay still on the bed. To not react. To not give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected me.
But inside, I was screaming at my own stupidity. Of course he wouldn't let me terminate the pregnancy. Of course he was lying to Claire. This baby was his ultimate leverage over me, and Lucas never gave up leverage.
---
"I need to rest," I said abruptly, cutting through whatever Lucas was about to say next. My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears.
Claire turned to me, her expression shifting into something almost pitying. Almost.
Lucas didn't move. He just stood there, watching me with those dark, calculating eyes that seemed to strip away every defense I had.
I shifted on the hospital bed, pulling the thin blanket higher around my shoulders. The weakness from blood loss made even this small movement exhausting, and the nausea was rising again, but I refused to let them see me falter.
Behind me, I heard Claire's heels click against the floor.
And then they were gone.
The door clicked shut, and I was alone.
---
I leaned back against the pillows, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach again. The baby was still there. Still alive, despite everything.
Despite me.
I thought about what Lucas had really said. About how I was "useful." About how this pregnancy was just another way for him to control me.
And I thought about Claire's tears. About the way she'd looked at him, so desperate for reassurance that she'd believe whatever lie he fed her.
They deserved each other—two predators circling the same prey.
But this baby?
This baby deserved better than being born into this nightmare.
I closed my eyes, pressing my palm flat against my abdomen. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Since he's so determined to play both sides, I thought bitterly, I truly hope Lucas keeps his word to Claire. I hope he follows through on his promise, for once in his miserable life.