Chapter 105: A very porsche

The next morning felt strangely calm.

Too calm, if I was being completely honest. There were no loud arguments echoing down the halls, no overprotective alpha voices bickering over what I should or shouldn't be doing, and no Vincent sneaking half the bacon off my plate while Lucien silently mapped out my entire day for me.

Just bliss, quiet, and... Zane.

He was already waiting for me by the time I finally stepped out onto the driveway, leaning effortlessly against the hood of a car like he had all the time in the world.

The second my eyes hit the vehicle, I stopped dead in my tracks.

It was a Porsche. A very pink Porsche.

Not a soft, subtle, pastel pink, either. It was a proper, unmistakable, bright neon pink that screamed for every ounce of attention it could get.

I blinked once. Twice. Then I looked at Zane's completely stoic face. "You didn’t."

He didn't even blink as he smoothly reached over and opened the passenger door for me. "You said you liked pink."

"I said I liked the color pink, Zane! I didn't say I wanted a car that could be seen from outer space."

The absolute faintest twitch of a smirk hit the corner of his lips. "That’s the whole point."

I stared at him, half-amused and half-terrified of his thought process. "You are completely insane, you know that?"

"Get in," he replied softly.

I got in anyway. Honestly, trying to resist Zane when he was in this calm, unbothered mood was entirely pointless.

The interior smelled incredible—a mix of rich, expensive leather and that faintly woody cologne he always wore. He slid into the driver's seat and turned the key, the engine purring to life with a deep, powerful rumble.

As we started to idle, I immediately noticed something else. We weren't alone. Across the street, two men in sharp black suits with subtle earpieces were watching our perimeter.

I let out a heavy sigh, leaning my head back against the headrest. "Of course there are bodyguards."

Zane didn’t look at me as he shifted into drive. "There are always bodyguards, Sarah."

"I miss the days when my biggest problem in life was missing a writing deadline."

"That was never your biggest problem," he murmured, his voice deep and smooth as he steered us out of the gates.

I turned my head to glare at him. "Wow. Look at you, mr. confidence."

He caught my gaze for a split second. "It’s the truth."

I huffed, sinking a little lower into the plush leather seat. "Fine. Where is everyone else anyway? It's too quiet."

"Lucien is handling an emergency board meeting."

"And Vincent?"

Zane paused for a beat, his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "Causing problems somewhere."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," I laughed, the tension in my shoulders easing up just a fraction. "Very helpful."

We pulled out onto the main road smoothly, and the pink sports car instantly started turning heads. People on the sidewalks stopped to gawk. Drivers in the next lane over stared, some smiling, some definitely judging the girl in the passenger seat.

And against my better judgment, I kind of loved every single second of it.

"Okay," I said slowly, a small smirk playing on my lips. "I see exactly why you picked this car."

Zane kept his eyes on the road, but his tone grew a little warmer. "You like the attention."

"That is totally not true!"

He glanced over at me, raising a single, silent eyebrow.

I held his gaze for three seconds before looking away, flushing. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "Maybe a little bit."

That actually earned me a genuine hint of a smile from him. It was barely there, gone in a flash, but it was completely real.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot in less than twenty minutes. The building looked quiet, clean, and entirely clinical. I’d always hated hospitals—not out of some phobia, but because of the memories. They just reminded me of sterile waiting rooms, bad news, and doctors trying to sound gentle when they didn't know how to say something painful.

Zane must have felt the shift in my mood the second he cut the engine. "You don’t have to do this alone, Sarah."

I glanced over at him, my heart doing a little flutter. "You’re already here, aren't you?"

He stepped out of the car, walking around to open my door like he always did. It was just natural for him now. As I got out, the ridiculousness of a hot pink Porsche parked outside a clinic drew immediate stares from a couple of nurses near the entrance. I caught them whispering to each other, catching fragments like "must be nice" and "attention seeker."

I just smiled to myself and kept walking. Let them talk.

Zane walked right beside me as we navigated the corridors. He didn’t touch me, not yet, but he stayed close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his large frame, a silent shield against the rest of the world.

When we finally got to the doctor’s office on the third floor, the familiar smell of antiseptic did a number on my nerves. I sat down in the examination chair, but instead of taking the seat next to me, Zane stood directly behind me like a giant, protective wall.

"You know, you're allowed to sit," I pointed out, looking up at him.

"I know."

"Then sit down."

"No."

I rolled my eyes hard. "You are absolutely exhausting."

"Noted."

The OB-GYN walked in a few minutes later, checking her tablet with a polite smile. "Miss Sarah. Good to see you again."

"Hi, Doctor."

The doctor glanced up at Zane, taking in his imposing, silent stature for a second before focusing back on me. "Just a routine check-up and scan today. Any unusual discomfort since last week?"

"Nothing serious," I began, but Zane’s deep voice cut right over me from behind.

"She’s been nauseous every morning, and she barely ate her breakfast today."

I snapped my head around to glare at him. "I was getting to that!"

"You weren't."

"I was literally one second away from saying it!"

The doctor chuckled softly at the bickering, adjusting the ultrasound machine. "Morning sickness is completely normal at this stage, dad. Don't worry, we'll make sure everything is running smoothly."

Zane just gave a firm nod, looking entirely proud of himself for narcing on me. I let out a dramatic sigh. "This is going to be a very long nine months."

The doctor smiled, applying the cold gel to my stomach. The familiar hum of the machine kicked in, and Zane shifted just an inch closer, his presence completely consuming my senses.

The monitor flickered, and suddenly, all the annoyance and tension faded into nothingness.

There it was. Small, incredibly fragile, and completely alive.

I stared at the screen, my breath catching. No matter how much chaos was swirling around my life, seeing that little outline hit me dead in the chest every single time. It was the most real thing in my world.

"Everything looks perfectly stable," the doctor murmured gently. "The heartbeat is incredibly strong."

I exhaled a long, slow breath, a massive knot of anxiety untying itself in my chest. For just a single, beautiful moment, the outside noise didn't exist. There was no Aaron, no creepy notes, no family secrets. Just me, Zane, and our baby.

Then, the heavy silence was shattered.

Buzz. Buzz.

My phone vibrated violently against my thigh. Zane’s eyes dropped to it instantly. "Don’t check it," he said, his voice dropping into that low, cautious tone. "Not right now."

"It might be Ethan or Lucien," I argued, ignoring him because, well, I always did.

I pulled the phone out of my pocket. It was a text from an unknown number. I clicked it open, and the breath was instantly knocked clean out of my lungs.

It was a photograph. A crystal-clear picture of me, right now, sitting in this exact hospital chair with my stomach exposed. It had been taken from outside, through the large glass window of the room.

My heart completely stopped. Slowly, my head turned toward the window behind the doctor’s desk. It was large, completely transparent, and left us entirely exposed to the opposite building.

Zane saw the look on my face and grabbed the phone out of my hand. The second his eyes hit the screen, his expression changed into something that sent shivers straight down my spine. It wasn't fear or confusion. It was a cold, sharp, lethal anger that completely altered the air pressure in the room.

He stepped past the doctor in one swift motion, peering out the window. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscles were jumping, his hand curling into a tight fist at his side.

The doctor looked between us, suddenly alarmed. "Is everything alright? What's going on?"

Zane didn't answer her. His eyes were scanning the rooftops across the street like a hawk tracking prey.

I stood up slowly from the table, my hands trembling as I wiped the gel off my stomach. "Someone is out there," I whispered, the panic clawing at my throat. "They're watching me."

"Yes," Zane said, his voice dangerously calm.

"Right now?"

"Yes."

That single word made my stomach do a sickening drop. I looked back at the ultrasound screen one last time. The baby was still up there, so innocent, completely unaware of the target on its back. And someone out there was treating my life, my privacy, and my child like a spectator sport.

Zane walked back over to me, his hand gripping my waist firmly, pulling me flush against his side. "We’re leaving. Right now."

I didn't argue. Not this time.

We practically rushed out of the clinic, bypassing the front desk entirely. By the time we burst through the front doors, the bright pink Porsche felt less like a fun statement and more like a neon sign flashing our exact coordinates to the world. But I didn't care about the attention anymore.

We scrambled into the car, and Zane slammed the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life. But just as he slammed the car into reverse, my eyes caught something across the street.

A sleek black sedan was parked directly parallel to us. The engine was idling, the driver's side window rolled down just a tiny crack. And sticking out of that crack was the dark lens of a smartphone, pointed directly at my face.

I didn't need to see the driver's eyes to know. This wasn't some random coincidence. This was an ambush of mind games.

Zane’s grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white as he spotted the car. His voice was a flat, icy whisper. "We’re being followed."

I stared straight ahead through the windshield, my jaw setting as a sudden, unexpected spark lit up inside me. "Of course we are."

He shot a quick, intense glance at me as he tore out of the parking lot. "Are you scared, Sarah?"

I paused, feeling the rapid beat of my pulse. I looked down at my hands, and for the first time, they weren't shaking anymore. I shook my head. "No."

It was a lie, but only half of one. Because underneath the terror, something brand new was taking over.

Anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. And right behind it, a dark, dangerous curiosity.

Whoever was pulling the strings, whoever thought they could keep playing with me from the shadows... they had just made their very first mistake. They wanted my attention? Fine. Because now, they made me want to look back. And when the Voss brothers found them, I wanted to be the one watching them burn.