(Kiki's POV)
The tension between me and Hayde was thick, almost suffocating. We stood in our university courtyard, staring at each other like two wounded animals, both too stubborn to make the first move.
But this time, I refused to let him walk away.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "Please, don't leave me?"
That was it- the refs between us dissipated. We spent the next few hours at his place, eating junk food, watching terrible reality shows, and laughing like nothing had ever gone wrong. It felt normal—like the old us.
For a while, I forgot about Emrys.
Until my phone started buzzing nonstop.
Emrys.
I stared at the screen, his name flashing over and over again, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick up. I was still too mad at him.
So I did the bare minimum—I texted back:
“I’m at Hayde’s place. Busy.”
And just like that, I ignored him.
I returned to Emrys’ mansion late in the evening.
The house was eerily silent, the kind of silence that wraps around you, thick and suffocating. My footsteps echoed against the cold marble floors, the air heavy with something unspoken.
A shiver crawled up my spine.
Where was everyone?
The usual hum of life—the clinking of dishes, the distant chatter of staff, the faint sound of a television—was missing.
I found Jackson standing stiffly by the staircase, his face unreadable.
"Where's Emrys?" My voice wavered, a strange weight settling in my chest.
Jackson hesitated. His lips parted, then pressed shut like he was swallowing words he wasn't allowed to say.
Something inside me twisted.
"Jackson," I pressed, my heart hammering now. "Where is he?"
His gaze flickered toward the hallway, avoiding my eyes. His hesitation said more than words ever could.
And then, finally, he muttered, “He’s— resting. With Blaisy.”
The world around me tilted. With Blaisy. No.
No, he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
But the way Jackson looked at me—the pity in his eyes—made my stomach drop.
I turned and ran.
My breath came in sharp bursts as I bolted down the hall, the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. Every step felt heavier, like I was sinking into something dark and suffocating.
Please. Please let this be a mistake.
I shoved open Blaisy’s bedroom door without knocking.
And then—
The floor disappeared beneath me.
Emrys lay sprawled across the bed, his bare chest rising and falling in steady, oblivious sleep.
Beside him, tangled in the sheets, was her.
Blaisy. My mother.
Her blonde hair spilled over the pillows, her body partially covered by the sheet—but not enough.
The room smelled of alcohol and perfume. The dim light cast long, haunting shadows across their bodies, marking a scene I wished I could erase from my mind.
A nightmare.
"Kiki!" Blaisy gasped, pulling the blanket over herself, feigning shock. “Get out!”
The world blurred.
The walls, the ceiling, the floor—everything spun in a dizzying spiral. My breath hitched in my throat, my hands trembling at my sides.
I stumbled backward, the bile rising in my throat.
And then I ran. Back to my room. Back to the only place I could breathe.
I slammed the door behind me and collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow as sobs tore through me.
How? How could he? Didn't he say, it was all a mere contract. Conditions for inheritance.
A deep, searing pain ripped through my chest, a betrayal so profound it left me gasping for air.
I had trusted him. Had loved him.
And he—I was a fool, even to think he'd love me.
A creak behind me made my entire body go still.
“Don’t be sad, Kiki.”
That voice.
That cold, mocking voice.
I turned my head, my vision still blurred with tears.
Blaisy stood in the doorway, her lips curling into a slow, cruel smile.
My mother.
She looked so pleased with herself.
"So stupid," she mused, stepping closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor. "Loving a man who never loved you."
A fresh wave of agony hit me. I wanted to scream, to deny it—but I couldn’t.
Because she was right. Emrys never said he loved me.
He cared. He liked me, maybe. He wanted me, used me.
But love? No.
He had told me himself—he would never love.
Blaisy crouched beside me, her manicured nails brushing against my damp cheek in a mock display of affection.
"You should’ve known better, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice dripping with venom.
Something inside me cracked.
"You shouldn’t have involved emotions in this contract," she snapped suddenly, her fingers tightening around my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze.
Her nails dug into my skin.
"Mom," I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.
Her lips twisted into something ugly.
"You little whore—" she spat, shoving my face away so hard I nearly fell off the bed. "Trying to steal my man? You’ll never get him."
I stared at her, my breath shallow.
This wasn’t a mother. This wasn’t love.
"Your own father never loved you," she sneered. "You think Emrys will? He’s just using you. For the baby. For the inheritance."
A slow, chilling smirk spread across her lips.
“At the end of the day, I’m Mrs. Harrow," she said, straightening. "His wife."
She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she looked down on me.
"And you? You’re nothing more than a surrogate."
My chest ached, my stomach twisting into knots.
I inhaled shakily.
"Mom," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I’m your daughter. Maybe I’m a nobody to you, but I’m still your daughter. Don’t you—don’t you love me?"
Her expression didn’t even falter.
“Love?”
She tilted her head mockingly, then let out a sharp, bitter laugh.
"I never wanted you."
The words felt like a slap.
"You were a mistake, Kiki. You ruined my prime. Ruined my life."
Tears blurred my vision, my hands trembling in my lap.
"If my life wasn’t complicated with that abortion, I would have gotten rid of you."
The room went silent.
My breath hitched. I felt like I was drowning, suffocating under the weight of those words.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The cold stares.
The neglect.
The absence of warmth, of love.
She had never wanted me. Never loved me.
But I—I had spent my whole life trying to make her see me.
"Don’t worry," she sighed, brushing a strand of hair from my face like she was doing me a favor. "Once I have your baby, I’ll send you away. Europe, maybe. You can start a new life there."
I blinked. "What?"
"Emrys agreed to it."
A sharp, piercing pain shot through my chest.
"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "No, he—he promised me. He made me promise not to leave him. He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t just toss me aside like this."
Blaisy’s lips stretched into a slow, sinister smile.
"You really thought he wanted you?" she taunted. "He never wanted you, Kiki. Stop being delusional."
Something inside me broke.
I inhaled sharply, forcing the lump in my throat down.
"Okay, Mom," I said, my voice barely stable. "You can have Emrys. Just— please. Let me keep my baby."
She let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
Then she threw the contract at my face.
"You have to give up the child."
Tears spilled down my cheeks as I dropped to my knees.
"Please," I whispered. "I’ll leave. I’ll go far away. I’ll never bother you two again, I swear. Just—let me have my baby."
Then she threw the contract at my face.
"Not with my child, you won’t." Her eyes gleamed with triumph. "You can’t escape the law, Kiki."
I choked back a sob. "Mom—"
She scoffed.
"Not with my child, you won’t."
She just looked down at me in disgust.
"Pathetic," she spat.
Then she turned and walked out—locking the door behind her.
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