Chapter 72 The Nightmare
Elena: POV
I watched him walk away.
His broad shoulders. The way his hand lingered on the doorframe. How he hesitated—just for a second—before disappearing down the hallway.
Part of me wanted to call him back. To say I was sorry. To pretend everything was fine.
But I couldn't.
I pressed my palm against the door. Felt the wood cool beneath my skin. Heard his footsteps fade. Then silence.
My legs gave out. I slid down until I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest.
Did he ever want this baby?
Three years of hidden marriage. Of being told I wasn't good enough. Of watching him fly to Paris to comfort her. Of hearing him say—over and over—that I shouldn't get pregnant.
You're not ready. We're not ready. This isn't the right time.
But what if it was simpler than that?
What if he just... didn't want a baby with me?
His words echoed. I don't know if I want this baby.
Not yet. Not right now.
Just... I don't know.
The tears came fast. Hot and angry. I buried my face in my knees and sobbed until my throat burned. Until my eyes were swollen. Until there was nothing left but this hollow feeling in my chest.
Then I lifted my head. Placed both palms flat against my stomach.
"Hey, baby." My voice cracked. "I know you can't hear me yet. But I need you to know something."
I took a shaky breath.
"I don't care what the tests say. I don't care if you're not perfect. You're mine. And I will never let anyone hurt you. Not your father. Not his family. Not anyone."
"If he can't love you—" I stopped. Closed my eyes. "Then fuck him. We don't need him anyway."
But even as I said it, my heart twisted.
Because I'd loved Julian Sterling for sixteen years. Since I was ten years old. Since I first saw him laughing in the Connecticut garden, sunlight in his dark hair.
I'd built my whole life around that love.
And now I had to tear it down.
I dragged myself to bed. Didn't bother changing. Just crawled under the covers still wearing my clothes.
My phone buzzed. Julian's name lit up the screen.
[I'm sorry. Please call me when you're ready to talk.]
I deleted the message. Turned the phone face down.
And closed my eyes.
---
Sleep came fast. Too fast.
One moment I was staring at the ceiling. The next I was somewhere else entirely.
A hospital.
The fluorescent lights were too bright. Blinding. They buzzed overhead like angry wasps.
I was lying on a table. Cold metal beneath me. My wrists and ankles strapped down with leather restraints.
I tried to move. Couldn't. Tried to scream. Nothing came out.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Sterling." A nurse appeared. Her face was a blur. No features. Just smooth skin where her eyes should be. "This won't take long."
What won't take long?
The faceless nurse wheeled in a tray. Gleaming instruments laid out in neat rows. Scalpels. Forceps.
"You should have been more careful," she said pleasantly. "Getting pregnant when your husband doesn't want it. Very irresponsible."
No. No, this isn't—
Footsteps. Heavy and deliberate.
Julian appeared in the doorway.
But not Julian.
His face was all wrong. Eyes too dark. Smile too wide. Like something wearing his skin.
"There you are." He walked closer. Loosened his tie. "I was worried you'd run."
Julian, please—
"Shh." He pressed a finger to his lips. "The doctor said you need to stay still."
He leaned over me. His breath smelled like smoke and something rotten.
"I never wanted this, Elena." His voice was soft. Almost gentle. "You know that, right? I told you. Over and over. Don't get pregnant. Don't trap me."
I looked down.
My belly was huge. Swollen. Like I was full-term instead of three months.
Something moved beneath the skin. Pressed outward. Too many limbs. Too many angles.
"Julian—" My voice finally worked. Came out as a broken whisper. "Please—"
"You know what's funny?" He picked up a scalpel from the tray. "I used to think you were pretty. When you were just the housekeeper's daughter. Before you got ideas."
The fluorescent lights flickered.
Victoria appeared behind him. Wearing a white coat. Stethoscope around her neck.
"Everything's ready, darling." She smiled at me. All teeth. "We can start whenever you want."
"No!" I thrashed against the restraints. "You can't—"
"Let us?" Julian laughed. "Baby, you don't have a choice."
He pressed the scalpel against my stomach. Not cutting. Just... resting there. Cold metal against skin.
"You're mine, remember? My wife. My property."
The scalpel pressed harder. "And I decide what happens. I decide if we keep it. I decide if we get rid of it."
"Julian, please—"
"You let me down, Elena." He sounded almost sad. "I gave you everything. And how did you repay me?"
The scalpel broke skin.
"By getting knocked up with a defective baby."
Pain exploded through me. White-hot and all-consuming.
"Julian, stop—STOP—"
"You know what the worst part is?" He kept cutting. Slow and methodical. "You actually thought I could love you."
Victoria appeared beside him. Held out her hand.
"The forceps, please."
"No no no NO—"
"Shh." Julian's face was right above mine. Eyes black as pitch. "Let me tell you a secret, Elena."
He leaned close. Lips brushing my ear.
"You've always disgusted me. Every time I touched you, I imagined I was with her. Every time you said you loved me, I wanted to laugh."
He reached into my stomach. I felt his fingers. Cold and wrong.
"And this baby? It's just another piece of trash. Just like its mother."
I screamed.
---
I woke up gasping.
My sheets were soaked with sweat. My heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst.
For a second I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Then my hands flew to my stomach.
The baby. Oh God, the baby—
My stomach was normal. Flat with that small swell. No blood. No scalpel.
"Just a dream." I pressed my palms against my belly. "Just a dream just a dream—"
But my whole body was trembling.
Because it wasn't just a dream.
It was my deepest fear.
He doesn't want this baby.
Not if it's not perfect. Not if it might have Down syndrome. Not if it might embarrass him.
The clock said 2:47 AM.
Julian was gone. I was alone in this massive penthouse. With a baby growing inside me. A baby my husband didn't want.
I have to leave.
The thought came crystal clear.
I have to get out before he decides to do something about this pregnancy.
Because Julian Sterling was a man who solved problems. Who made difficult decisions. Who prioritized the bottom line.
And our baby? Right now, our baby was a problem.
I stood up on shaking legs. Started pacing.
Where do I go?
Sophia's place? Too obvious. Julian knew about her.
A hotel? He'd freeze my credit cards the second he realized I was gone.
The old Connecticut estate? His grandfather would call him immediately.
Where the fuck do I go?