Chapter 6

"What? I didn't—"

"Apologize to Brooklyn."

"It wasn't me—"

"If not you, then who?" His eyes were vicious. "The moment you found out Brooklyn was pregnant, she gets kidnapped and nearly miscarries. Who else could it be? What did you say to her at the hospital? Did you send those kidnappers?"

"I didn't kidnap her!" Ignoring the pain, I struggled to sit up. "Five years together, and this is who you think I am? She's the one who's been lying to you."

"I don't care about any of that." He rose to his feet. "You raised your hand against a pregnant woman. You almost killed her baby."

"Let go of me!" One hand shielding my belly, the pain wrung tears from my eyes. "She's been lying the whole time, Quinn. She's deceived you from the very start—"

"Apologize."

"No." The word came out flat and final.

His face darkened. "No?"

"I will not apologize for something I didn't do."

He stared at me for a long moment, then a cold, cruel smile spread across his face. It chilled me to the bone.

"Fine."

After Quinn left, I dragged myself upright, moving slowly. I had just finished cleaning the scratches he'd clawed into my skin when the phone rang.

My thumb was already on decline when I caught the label: Attending Physician.

My mother's doctor didn't call me unless something was wrong.

I answered. The doctor's voice came through, taut with panic. "Callie, your husband just came by with some woman, and the moment they arrived, your mother relapsed. We're doing everything we can right now, but her chances of pulling through aren't good. You need to prepare yourself…"

My mind went blank. My ears rang. I couldn't take in a word he was saying.

In that instant, I had only one thought. Get to the hospital.

I scrambled out the door and hailed a cab. In the backseat, I sent Wayne a text.

By the time I reached the hospital, I saw Brooklyn standing right outside the operating room.

I flew at her, grabbing a fistful of her hair. "Why did you hurt my mother? Why?!"

"Whatever you're scheming, come at me! Why go after my mom?!"

I was falling apart. I wanted to strangle her with my bare hands.

The next second, my hand was pried loose and Quinn drove his foot hard into my stomach.

I slammed into the wall, out of my own control, a violent pain tearing through my lower belly. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Brooklyn wept softly. "Miss Pratt, I don't understand why you hate me so much. If you think I stole Quinn from you, then I'll give him back. Just please, don't send people to kill me."

"As if anyone wants…"

Before I could finish, Quinn cut in, his voice cold. "Callie, can you stop acting like some lunatic, seeing conspiracies everywhere? How many times do I have to say it—Brooklyn is no threat to your position. This was just a lesson. Hurt her again and don't blame me if I really do come for your mother…"

Everything blurred. His mouth kept moving, but I could no longer make out the words. A hot wave slid down my thigh. My body felt like it was being torn apart by the pain.

All I could do was repeat, mechanically, "Please, spare my mother. I'm sorry. Save my mother…"

When I woke again, it was already noon the next day, sunlight streaming into the room.

I picked up the phone beside me, saw Wayne's message, and let out a breath.

Quinn, seated nearby, snatched the phone from my hand. "You just woke up, stop playing on your phone. Who are you texting?"

He tried the passcode three times, couldn't crack it, and tossed the phone aside.

My passcode had always been the date we started dating. I hadn't gotten around to changing it. So he didn't remember it either.

I turned and saw him beside me, dark circles ringing his eyes. He nudged a bowl of porridge toward me. "The doctor said you should eat something light."

I glanced at the seafood porridge, said nothing, and didn't touch it.

Quinn frowned, impatient. "Why aren't you eating? Still sulking? Losing the baby was my fault, but you hurt Brooklyn first."

My voice came out hoarse. "I'm allergic to shellfish."

Quinn froze, then reached over and shoved the seafood porridge into the trash.

Half grumbling, half embarrassed, he said, "You could've mentioned the allergy sooner. What a hassle. Wait here, I'll go buy you another bowl. You can't get better if you don't eat. In a couple of days we're redoing the wedding for the hundredth time. I promise this time…"

Before he could finish, Brooklyn's personal ringtone went off. He answered, and a minute later he hung up, looking at me with a complicated expression.

"Go take care of it. Don't worry about me."

I only wanted him gone, so I could climb out of this pit.

His gaze softened. "Good, you finally get it. Keep being this obedient and sweet, and I'll throw you an even grander wedding."

"No need. I'm going to marry someone—"

Before I could finish, he was already gone from the doorway.

I checked myself out and went back to the villa for my documents.

The plain-band ring from our first anniversary, along with the token of the Vance betrothal, I left them both on the table.

Before I left, I turned for one last look at the villa. It held more than five years of beautiful memories.

A pity that, in the end, it was only a dream.

I pulled my eyes away and turned to go.

Just as I reached the door, a Bugatti pulled up in front of me.

The window rolled down, and a handsome face appeared, one I felt I'd seen somewhere before.

"Fiancée, I've come to take you home."

Right then a message from Quinn came through. "Something urgent came up, I won't be back tonight. The custom wedding gown I designed myself will arrive first thing tomorrow morning. I promise you a perfect, magnificent wedding this time."

"Brooklyn knew you were in low spirits, so she's driving over to take you out and clear your head. Get along with her."

I didn't reply. I just blocked his number.

Then I got in the car and left.