POV:) Juliet Anderson

I stare out of the window, my fingers tapping aggressively against my laptop keyboard, my frustration boiling.

Alex watches me closely, his expression unreadable, calculating every movement.

He finally speaks, his voice slow, deliberate.

"Babygirl, I have to go on a business trip for a month."

I suck in a deep breath, my chest tightening.

"Okay," I mutter, forcing my voice to stay even. "You just made me shift here this morning. I mean… you could have just let me stay at my apartment."

He cuts me off.

"I don’t want to go," he says firmly. "But this is important. And knowing you're here, where I can make sure you have everything you need… it puts me at ease."

I exhale sharply.

"Alex, before I met you, I was living my life just fine. And not just fine—pretty damn good."

His brows knit together, but I don’t stop.

"I don’t know why you think I need money or protection. I started working at sixteen, Alex. I can take care of myself."

Something inside me is churning—a frustration I can’t name, a storm I don’t know how to contain.

Alex steps closer, his hands gentle yet firm as they slide into mine.

"Babygirl," he murmurs. "What’s wrong? Talk to me. Please."

I look up into his deep, penetrating gaze.

"Alex, I—"

His phone rings.

I flinch at the sharp sound, and he pulls away, exhaling in frustration before stepping out to answer it.

I stare after him.

My heart pounds.

My hands clench.

I turn back to the window, my mind racing.

Alex packs his bag, and I feel like every zip, every fold, every neatly packed item is another piece of him slipping away from me.

I don’t want him to go.

But I can’t stop him either.

Because if I say the words—if I tell him to stay—I know he will.

And I can’t do that to him.

His business, his work, his life… It’s important.

So instead, I just cling to him.

My fingers grip his shirt as if holding onto him tight enough will somehow keep him here.

"Babygirl," he murmurs, brushing my hair back, his thumb grazing my cheek. "You're acting like I’m leaving forever."

I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, my hands fisting the fabric of his shirt.

"It’s just a month," he reassures me. "I’ll be back before you even have the chance to miss me."

Liar.

I already miss him.

I don’t say it, though.

Instead, I force a small smile, looking up at him with eyes I know are betraying every emotion I’m trying to hide.

"Promise me something?" I whisper.

"Anything," he says without hesitation.

"Don't change." My voice is barely audible, but I know he hears me.

His jaw tightens, his hands coming up to cup my face.

"I could say the same to you," he murmurs, his lips pressing against my forehead. "Stay the way you are, Juliet. Don't shut me out. Don't hide things from me."

My stomach twists.

For a second, I wonder if he knows.

If he suspects.

But then he pulls back, brushing his lips over mine, slow and possessive.

"I’ll call you every night," he promises.

I nod. "Okay."

I watch as he picks up his bag, my heart hammering against my ribs.

I hate this.

I hate watching him walk away.

But what I hate even more…

Is the secret I’m keeping from him.

Because the moment he leaves…

I’m on my own.

And for the first time, that terrifies me.

The door clicks shut.

Alex is gone.

I stand in the middle of the room, my arms wrapped around myself, staring at the empty space where he was just a moment ago. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, but it's not enough.

The silence in the mansion is deafening.

I close my eyes, taking slow, deep breaths. One. Two. Three. But it does nothing to calm the storm inside me.

I’m alone now.

And so is my secret.

My hands instinctively drift to my stomach, barely brushing against the fabric of my shirt. It still doesn’t feel real.

But it is.

I’m pregnant.

And the father of my child just walked out the door without a single clue.

I should have told him.

I should have whispered it into his ear, let the words tumble out while he held me. But I couldn’t.

Because what if he reacted exactly like he did when we watched the movie?

"Logically, we’d abort it."

The words echo in my mind, stabbing me like a knife.

I shake my head.

No. I won’t let that happen.

This baby is mine.

My little piece of love. My family. The one person who will never leave me.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. My heart jumps to my throat. Alex? Did he come back?

I rush to open it, hope blooming in my chest—only for it to die immediately.

Tristan.

He leans against the doorway, dressed in a black hoodie and ripped jeans, his smirk lazy but his eyes sharp.

“Miss me, sweetheart?” His voice is smooth, laced with amusement.

A sick feeling coils in my stomach.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, gripping the edge of the door.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I just thought we should get to know each other better. Especially now that your little watchdog is out of town.”

I tense.

How does he know Alex left?

"Leave, Tristan," I snap, trying to close the door, but he blocks it effortlessly, his hand pressing against the frame.

“That’s not very polite,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

I step back.

Something about the way he’s looking at me makes my skin crawl.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say, my voice harder this time.

"And yet," he grins, "here I am."

I want to scream at him. Push him away. But I can’t show fear.

Instead, I lift my chin and glare at him. "Whatever game you're playing, I'm not interested."

He lets out a soft laugh, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. "Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what game I’m playing. But soon… you will."

And with that, he steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets like he wasn’t just trying to intimidate me.

"See you around, Juliet."

I slam the door shut the second he’s gone, locking it, my breath coming out in sharp pants.

Something isn’t right.

Tristan isn't just playing some college prank anymore.

He knows too much.

I run downstairs, my heart hammering in my chest.

The security staff is standing near the entrance, looking calm—too calm—while my mind is spinning out of control.

“Who let him in?” I demand, my voice sharp and breathless.

Mrs. Winstone, the head of the household staff, glances at me with a small, knowing smile, as if I just asked a ridiculous question.

“Miss Juliet, Mr. Tristan doesn’t need permission to enter,” she says smoothly. “This is his home too.”

What?

My head jerks back like I’ve been slapped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Mrs. Winstone folds her hands in front of her, her expression calm but unreadable. “Tristan is Mr. Alexander’s stepbrother.”

The words knock the breath out of me.

Stepbrother?

I feel dizzy, like I just stepped into a nightmare.

The man who just cornered me at my door, the same one who has been acting too interested in me at college, is related to Alex?

“Why didn’t Alex ever mention him?” I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Mrs. Winstone’s gaze flickers with something unreadable. “Their relationship is… complicated.”

I can tell she knows more than she’s letting on, but before I can press further, a slow clap echoes through the hallway.

I turn, and there he is.

Tristan.

Leaning against the doorway like he owns the place, a smirk playing at his lips.

“Ah, so she finally knows,” he drawls. “Took you long enough, sweetheart.”

I stiffen, my hands curling into fists.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

He laughs—a dark, amused sound. “Relax, princess. I just wanted to see what kind of girl managed to wrap my dear brother around her little finger.”

I glare at him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His smirk widens. “Oh, don’t I? Alex has never let anyone into his world like this before. Never.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. “And yet, here you are, living in his mansion, sleeping in his bed, wearing his shirts…” His eyes flicker down to the oversized hoodie I’m wearing. “Cute, by the way.”

I take a step back, hating the way he looks at me.

“Get out,” I snap.

“Or what?” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are sharp, calculating. “You gonna tell Alex? And say what? That I paid my own brother’s house a little visit?”

I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right.

What am I supposed to say? That I’m scared of his own family member?

Tristan leans in just enough to make my skin crawl. “I’m not going anywhere, Juliet. This is just the beginning.”

His words send a shiver down my spine.

The air in the mansion shifts—cold, suffocating.

I stare at him, my stomach twisting into tight knots.

"EVERYONE LEAVE," he orders

Everyone just… left.

The security. The staff. Everyone.

As if he owns this place.

As if I am nothing more than an unwanted guest.

Tristan stands there, smirking, his hands shoved in his pockets, his dark eyes watching me too closely.

“Alex will kill you,” I say, my voice steady, my confidence forced.

He laughs.

A deep, amused chuckle that makes my skin crawl.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He steps closer, the dim light casting sharp shadows across his face. “He can. But he just can’t.”

I don’t flinch. I refuse to.

“You think my mother—sorry, our mother—” he corrects with a sneer, “—is going to let him throw everything away just for a girl?”

My breath hitches.

His mother.

Alex’s mother.

The woman who controls their family.

I don’t know much about her, but I’ve heard enough to know that she’s dangerous.

“You’re lying,” I whisper.

Tristan tilts his head, his smirk widening. “Am I?”

I want to scream at him. Push him away. Call Alex. Run.

But then his next words hit me like a knife to the chest.

“Tomorrow morning, you and I have an appointment,” he says casually, like we’re talking about the weather.

I frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He steps even closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, the weight of his presence.

“I mean,” he says, brushing an imaginary speck off his jacket, “that we’re going to the doctor first thing.”

My blood turns ice cold.

I shake my head. “No. You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”

Tristan grins.

“Oh, I’m sorry, let me correct myself,” he purrs, his voice dripping with fake sympathy.

“Not just any doctor, Juliet. A gynecologist.”

My heart stops.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

And now, I’m trapped.

His words hit me like a slap.

I grit my teeth, my entire body shaking with anger.

“Why do you even care?” I hiss.

Tristan steps closer, his gaze dropping to my stomach for just a second before flicking back up.

“I have my reasons,” he murmurs.

His words send a cold chill down my spine.

I don’t know what game he’s playing, but one thing is clear—I’m a pawn in it.

The room tilts.

My breath stutters as I take a step back, but he follows.

Close. Too close.

“I—” My throat is dry. “You’re insane, Tristan.”

He smirks.

“Maybe,” he muses, dragging a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I know your little secret.”

I force my face to stay neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tristan laughs. A sharp, amused sound.

“Oh, babydoll,” he murmurs, voice low and taunting. “Don’t play dumb. I don’t have the patience for it.”

I grit my teeth. “Call me that again, and I swear—”

He cuts me off.

“You’re pregnant.”

The words hit like a gunshot.

I stop breathing. My hands curl into fists at my sides.

Tristan leans in, his breath warm against my ear.

“And Alex doesn’t know.”

Shit.

I push him back—hard.

But he doesn’t stumble. Doesn’t even blink.

“How did you find out?” My voice shakes despite how hard I try to steady it.

He sighs, almost bored.

“You think I wouldn’t have people watching?” His lips curve into something cruel. “You’ve been moving different, Juliet. And I saw you and your little bestie sneaking into a clinic this morning.”

My stomach drops.

Sienna.

She was right. I should have been more careful.

He tilts his head, studying me.

“So, tell me,” he continues, his voice almost gentle, which somehow makes it worse. “Does Alex know he’s about to be a daddy?”

I swallow, refusing to let him see the panic crawling up my throat.

He chuckles.

“Didn’t think so.”

Silence stretches between us.

Then he moves.

Slow. Controlled.

My instincts scream at me to run, but I refuse to back down.

“You’re not telling him,” I say, my voice firm.

Tristan raises an eyebrow. “And why the hell wouldn’t I?”

I step forward this time, lifting my chin.

“Because you don’t want him to know, either.”

That wipes the smirk off his face.

For the first time, something flickers in his gaze—something dark and unreadable.

I press on.

“If you wanted Alex to find out, you would have told him already.” I narrow my eyes. “So why haven’t you?”

Tristan’s jaw clenches.

Then—like flipping a switch—the smirk returns.

“You’re quick,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I like that.”

I don’t respond.

He exhales dramatically, shoving his hands back in his pockets.

“Fine,” he says. “I won’t tell him.”

Suspicion coils in my gut.

“But,” he adds, voice silkier than before, “that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

I exhale sharply. “What do you want, Tristan?”

He grins.

“Tomorrow morning. Doctor’s visit. You and me.”

I fold my arms. “Why the hell would I go anywhere with you?”

Tristan shrugs. “Because, sweetheart…”

He reaches out, brushing his thumb across my jaw before I slap his hand away.

His laughter is low and amused.

“…If you don’t come willingly, I’ll make sure Alex finds out in the worst possible way.”

My blood turns to ice.

Tristan leans in, his lips at my ear.

“See you in the morning, babydoll.”

And then—he’s gone.

Leaving me breathless. Terrified. Trapped.

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I will upload one more chapter today as there wouldn't be any update until next Sunday as I am busy with something. ❤