3rd person POV
Max stood frozen, the dead silence of the call stretching in his ears. His fingers tightened around the phone, the plastic digging into his palm, but his mind wasn’t in the room anymore. It was spiraling, unraveling, clawing at the words Ruth had left him with. ‘She’s pregnant. The baby isn’t yours’
He let out a slow breath, forcing his body to move, to react, but every step felt heavy. The hotel room suddenly felt too small, too suffocating, the walls pressing in around him. He pushed a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching as he replayed every moment with Vivian in his head.
Had she known? Had she been carrying this secret while he sat beside her hospital bed, while he held her hand, kissed her, made love to her? Had she already made up her mind to leave him then?
A sickening feeling curled in his stomach, burning at his insides. No. No, this didn’t make sense. Ruth was a liar, a manipulator-he had seen it himself. She had tried to hurt Vivian once before. She had twisted truths, played games. Why would he believe her now?
But then there was the other side of it-the part he couldn’t ignore. Vivian had left. Not kidnapped. Not forced. She had packed her things and walked away, without so much as a goodbye. That wasn’t something he could just explain away.
His phone was still gripped in his hand, his knuckles white as he forced himself to act. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the name he needed. Ray.
The line rang once. Twice.
“Max?” Ray’s voice was alert, cautious. “You okay?”
Max let out a slow breath. “Where exactly is Vivian?”
A pause. “I told you. France. Her grandfather’s estate.”
“I need the address.”
Ray hesitated. ” Boss, what’s going on?”
“Just give me the damn address!”
Another silence, but then Ray sighed. “I’ll send it over. But listen-are you sure about this?”
No. He wasn’t sure about anything.
But he needed answers. And he wasn’t going to get them by standing in his penthouse alone, drowning in questions.
*________*
The flight to France was quiet, the hum of the engines barely registering in Max’s ears. He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t even tried. His mind was a battlefield, every thought clashing, conflicting, breaking apart. He wanted to believe Vivian. He wanted to believe that if she had been pregnant, if she would have told him. But Ruth’s words had buried themselves deep, like a splinter he couldn’t pull out.
He replayed every moment between them. Had she been different? Distant? Maybe. She had been tired, withdrawn. But that could have been the accident, the stress. It didn’t mean she had been hiding something. Right?
And then there was the other part. The part he hadn’t let himself focus on yet. If the baby wasn’t his… then whose was it? There’s no way it could be Daniel, he wouldn’t dare betray me for a second time, I don’t believe Ruth, I’ll find out myself.
The thought sat heavy in his chest. The thought of Vivian with someone else, of her carrying another man’s child-it didn’t make sense. He had been with her. He had held her, kissed her, promised her everything. Had it all been a lie?
His jaw tightened. He wasn’t going to get answers by overthinking. He would ask Vivian himself. He would look her in the eye, and she would tell him the truth.
The estate was massive. White stone, high walls, an iron gate that stretched wide in front of him. The kind of place that spoke of old money, of generations that had built an empire long before he had even entered the picture.
Max stood outside, his hands clenched at his sides as the gates slowly creaked open. He stepped forward, his heartbeat loud in his ears.
Inside, the air smelled of freshly cut grass, of distant flowers, the kind of crispness that belonged to places untouched by chaos. But inside Max’s chest, a storm was brewing.
A servant led him through the grand entrance, the marble floors gleaming beneath his shoes. His eyes darted around, searching, waiting-until finally, she was there.
Vivian.
She was standing near a set of wide windows, her back to him, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared outside. The moment she turned, her eyes met his, widening in shock.
“Max?”
His breath caught for a second. She looked different. Softer somehow. Her dark hair fell in loose waves, her expression unreadable. But there was something else too. A weight in her eyes. A hesitation.
“You left,” he said, his voice lower than he intended.
Vivian swallowed, her hands tightening around the fabric of her dress. “I-I had to.”
“Why?”
A pause. A flicker of emotion in her gaze. “You know why.”
His pulse quickened. “Do I?”
Vivian turned away, pressing her lips together. “Max, you shouldn’t have come.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “Yes, you did. You could have stayed. You could have let me go.”
“Let you go?” His voice hardened. “After everything? After the hospital? After-”
His words caught, frustration burning beneath his skin. He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers. “Is it true?”
Vivian froze. A slow, painful second passed. “What?”
Max’s jaw tightened. “Are you pregnant?”
The room went still.
Vivian’s lips parted slightly, her hands trembling at her sides. She didn’t answer.
Max’s heart pounded. “Vivian.”
Still nothing.
He took another step forward. “Tell me the truth.”
Her gaze flickered, something breaking in her expression. And then, finally, a whisper.
“Yes.”
The word shattered everything.
His breath caught, his fingers twitching at his sides. He had been prepared for denial, for an argument, for anything but this.
Vivian looked away, her hands pressing against her stomach. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?” His voice was sharp now. “Before or after you disappeared without a word?”
Her shoulders tensed. “I had to leave.”
“Why?” His voice dropped lower. “Because it isn’t mine?”
Vivian inhaled sharply, her body stiffening.
Silence.
A second passed. Then another.
And Max felt something inside him crack.
She wasn’t denying it.
His hands curled into fists, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Tell me, Vivian. Tell me right now.”
Her lips trembled, her eyes glistening. “Max, please.”
His chest tightened. “Say it.”
Vivian shut her eyes. Her breath hitched. And then-
“It’s not yours.”
A sharp breath left his lungs.
His body locked up, every muscle tightening. The air around him suddenly felt too thick, pressing in on him, suffocating. He felt the weight of those words settle deep, twisting like a knife in his ribs.
Not his.
Not his.
He swallowed, his throat dry. “Who?”
Vivian’s gaze darted away.
Max took a step forward, his voice a quiet demand. “Who is he?”
A tremor ran through her shoulders. But she didn’t answer.
Max exhaled sharply, stepping back, his hands shaking. “I see.”
Vivian reached for him suddenly. “Max-”
He flinched. The movement was small, barely there, but she saw it. And in that moment, something in her face crumbled.
Max swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I came here for answers,” he said, his voice cold now. “I got them.”
Vivian’s eyes widened, panic flashing through them. “Please, just listen to me-”
But he was already turning away. Already walking toward the door. Already drowning in a storm he hadn’t seen coming. And as he stepped out into the cold, empty air, he realized something. He had never felt this kind of pain before.
And he had no idea what to do with it.