Chapter 8: The Twins
[Sarah]
The hospital waiting room hummed with quiet efficiency as midnight approached. I watched Manhattan’s lights twinkle through the floor–to–ceiling windows, trying not to think about the last few hours – Elizabeth’s collapse. My fingers traced absent patterns on the leather armrest, fighting another wave of dizziness.
The soft whir of an electric wheelchair made me look up. Theodore appeared in the
doorway, his commanding presence undiminished by his seated position. His tie hung loose around his neck, and for once, his precisely styled hair showed signs of running his fingers through it repeatedly.
“You’re still here.” His voice was low, exhausted but with an edge that made my skin
prickle.
“How is she?” The words caught in my throat, guilt and concern warring inside me.
“Stable.” His wheelchair glided into the room with deadly precision. “The doctor says she
needs complete rest.”
“Like the imprisonment you’ve been giving me?” The bitter words erupted before I could
stop them, days of rage and helplessness boiling over.
His eyes turned to steel. “That’s entirely different.”
“Is it?” I surged to my feet, fury overwhelming caution. The room spun violently and I
grabbed the wall, my knuckles white against the smooth surface. “Lock up your wife, let your mother collapse is control worth everything to you, Theodore?”
–
“You’re pale.” His clinical observation only fueled my anger.
“Funny what happens when you cage someone for days.” I snatched my coat with trembling hands. “I truly hope Elizabeth recovers. At least one of us can escape your… protection.”
“Mrs. Thompson will bring dinner tomorrow at seven.” The command in his voice was unmistakable. “Try to actually eat this time.”
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Chapter 8: The Twins
A harsh laugh tore from my throat. “Giving orders at your mother’s hospital bed? How fitting.”
“Until you prove yourself trustworthy-”
“Trustworthy?” I whirled to face him, tears burning in my eyes. “I’m not your property, Theodore. Not your employee, not your prisoner-”
Something dangerous flashed across his face, making my heart stutter. “We’ll finish this
discussion at home.”
The word ‘home‘ had never sounded more like a threat.
The ride back to the penthouse was silent, tension crackling between us like static electricity. Theodore’s driver kept shooting worried glances in the rearview mirror, probably wondering if he’d be fired for witnessing whatever was about to explode.
The elevator doors had barely closed when I spun to face him. “I want a divorce.”
Theodore wheeled to the bar with fluid grace, as if I’d commented on the weather. The crystal decanter clinked against glass, amber liquid catching the moonlight. “No.”
“No?” Fury rose in my throat like bile. “You can’t just ”
“I can.” He took a deliberate sip, but I caught the slight tremor in his hand. “The timing
would be unfortunate, given my mother’s condition.”
“Manipulative bastard.” My voice shook. “Lock me away, use your mother’s health against
me – is there any line you won’t cross?”
His lips curved, but something flickered in his eyes – regret? “Says the woman who violated my privacy.”
“I needed to send work documents, I never meant to-” The words died as memories of those photographs flooded back. The mysterious woman. His raw grief captured in pixels.
“Never meant to what?” His voice dropped dangerously soft, fingers whitening on his armrest. “Pry into my personal life? Unearth buried secrets?”
I retreated to the window, but the quiet whir of his wheelchair followed. “Your punishment was cruel, Theodore. Even for you.”
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Chapter 8: The Twins
“Was it?” He moved closer, his cologne – rich and intoxicating – making my head spin. “You have no idea what you discovered.”
“Then tell me!” I whirled around, my back hitting cool glass. “Instead of these games, just
His hand caught my wrist, steel wrapped in silk. “You’re trembling.”
“Because you terrify me,” I whispered. But we both knew it was a lie. His thumb traced my pulse point, sending electricity through my veins.
“Do I?” His voice roughened as his eyes dropped to my parted lips. “No, Sarah. This isn’t
fear. This is…”
I needed to pull away. To remember why I’d demanded that divorce. But my body betrayed me, drawn to his heat like a moth to flame.
The sharp buzz of my phone shattered the moment. I jerked away, fumbling to silence it with shaking hands. A text from my doctor’s office confirming tomorrow’s appointment
filled the screen.
Reality crashed back like a bucket of ice water. The baby. The risks. Everything I was hiding from the man whose touch still lingered on my skin.
“I need to go.” I moved toward the stairs on unsteady legs.
“Sarah.” The command in his voice stopped me. “This discussion isn’t finished.”
I didn’t turn around. Couldn’t let him see the guilt in my eyes. “No, it’s not. But for
tonight, it has to be.”
The next morning found me in my OB–GYN’s private office, gripping the armrests as she studied the ultrasound screen with a frown.
“The stress is taking a toll,” she said finally. “But there’s something else you need to see.” She turned the screen toward me. “Mrs. Pierce, you’re carrying twins.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Twins. I stared at the grainy screen, watching two distinct heartbeats flutter like butterfly wings. My fingers dug into the exam table as the
room seemed to spin.
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Chapter 8: The Twins
two tiny lives already tangled in the web of lies and manipulation surrounding their parents‘ marriage. A hysterical voice bubbled up in my throat. The Pierce family’s scheme had worked better than they could have dreamed.
“That’s… that’s not possible.” But it was. There they were –
“Sarah.” The doctor’s gentle use of my first name pulled me back. “You need complete rest. The stress you’re under…” She hesitated. “It’s not good for any of you.”
I pressed a trembling hand to my stomach. These babies – my babies – deserved better than a marriage built on corporate schemes and hidden agendas. But how could I leave when every beat of their hearts bound me tighter to Theodore? His face in the moonlight flashed through my mind – that moment of tenderness warring with memories of his cold
fury.
“Have you told your husband?”
The question made my chest tight. How would Theodore react? The man who locked me away for accessing his computer now had the ultimate claim on me – on us.
–
“I need time,” I whispered, but even as I said it, I knew time was the one thing I didn’t
have.
“Not much,” the doctor’s voice was kind but firm. “These little ones need stability, Sarah. Real stability. And soon.”
I nodded, fighting back tears.
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