Kayla's POV
The shattered pieces of porcelain glistened on the floor like fragments of my broken life. White shards scattered across the tile like frozen tears, sharp enough to cut, delicate enough to crumble at a touch.
My hands shook violently as I clutched the phone, my chest tightening until it hurt to breathe.
You can run, but you can't hide. Liam will know the truth soon enough.
The words burned into my vision. Truth. That one word echoed louder than the rest, stabbing at the secret I carried like a knife twisting deeper.
My baby.
How could they know? I hadn't told anyone except Damien. My breath hitched, dread clawing at my chest, my heart slamming against my ribs. The room blurred for a moment, the walls closing in as though trying to swallow me whole.
I pressed my palm against my stomach instinctively. The warmth of my skin was the only thing keeping me from flying apart. This was supposed to be my secret, my fragile, hidden piece of hope. A flickering heartbeat inside me. How had it become someone else's weapon?
The door creaked, and I jumped so hard the phone nearly slipped from my hands. My breath caught in my throat.
It was only Damien, stepping into the apartment, his white coat slung carelessly over one arm, exhaustion darkening his eyes. He looked like a man who had been running on nothing but adrenaline for days, but when his gaze fell on me, something inside him sharpened.
"Kayla?" His brows furrowed instantly. "What happened?"
I scrambled to my feet, the phone pressed behind me like a guilty secret. "Nothing. I-I dropped a cup. That's all."
His eyes flicked to the mess on the floor, then back to me. He didn't look convinced. His gaze stayed on me a beat too long, as though he could see through the thin layer of calm I'd thrown over myself. He stepped closer, his voice softer now. "You're trembling."
"I'm fine," I whispered, though my voice betrayed me. My throat felt tight, my words scraping out like brittle glass.
Damien's gaze lingered on me, searching my face like he could peel away the lies. Finally, he sighed and reached for the broom in the corner. "Sit. I'll clean it up."
I sank back onto the couch, the cushions swallowing me as though trying to anchor me in place. My hand pressed against my stomach again, a subconscious gesture I couldn't stop. The silence between us was thick, broken only by the sweep of glass against the tiles.
Every nerve in my body screamed to tell him about the message, to confide in him, to let someone else carry this fear. But a darker thought coiled inside me-what if he already knew?
He was the only one who had seen my results. The only one I had trusted. What if... what if Damien was the reason someone else knew?
The idea slithered through me like poison, making my hands tremble harder. I forced the thought away, but it clung to me, whispering at the edge of my mind.
When he was done cleaning, Damien dumped the shards into the trash and washed his hands, the water running loud in the silence. He dried them slowly, then turned and sat across from me. His eyes were tired but gentle, a softness there that made my chest ache even as my heart recoiled.
"Kayla," he said quietly, "you can't keep bottling everything inside. You'll break."
I swallowed hard, my fingers knotting in the hem of the blanket. "Maybe I already am."
His eyes softened further, something like pain flickering there. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, like he wanted to reach for me but didn't dare.
Before he could reply, my phone buzzed again.
My blood froze.
The sound was louder than a gunshot in the silence. My body locked up, my pulse roaring in my ears. Slowly, with fingers that didn't feel like mine, I reached for it.
Another message. Same unknown number.
Running only makes it worse. Tell him yourself before someone else does.
This time, I couldn't hide it. My hand shook as I held the phone out to Damien. "Look."
He took it, his eyes scanning the words. His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a hard line. His eyes narrowed with fury, a flash of something dark flickering through them. "Who sent this?"
"I don't know," I whispered, tears welling. My voice cracked, small and broken. "But they know, Damien. They know about the baby."
For a moment, silence fell, thick and suffocating. The weight of the room pressed down on us both. Damien's fists clenched at his sides until his knuckles whitened.
"Kayla, listen to me." His voice was steady now, but there was steel beneath it. "Whoever this is, they're trying to break you down, to make you vulnerable. Don't let them win."
"You don't understand!" My voice cracked, breaking into a sob. "If Liam finds out, I'll never escape him. He'll use this baby to trap me forever!"
The words spilled out of me before I could stop them, raw and trembling. My chest rose and fell in jagged breaths.
Damien moved closer, kneeling in front of me, his hands holding mine with a steadiness that contradicted the storm in his eyes. "Then we'll make sure he doesn't find out."
I blinked through my tears, staring at him. "We?"
"Yes." His grip tightened slightly, his voice soft but unyielding. "You're not alone, Kayla. Not anymore."
His words were a balm, warm and steady, and for a flicker of a moment I wanted to believe them. I wanted to lean into him and let the weight fall off my shoulders.
But my fear didn't ease. If anything, it grew heavier. Because deep down, I knew this wasn't just about Liam anymore.
Someone else was watching me, waiting for me to crumble. Someone who knew more than they should. Someone who had already pierced the walls I thought I'd built.
And for the first time, a terrifying thought crossed my mind-maybe escaping Liam wouldn't be enough.
Maybe the real danger was only beginning.
I drew in a trembling breath and glanced at Damien. He was still kneeling, still holding my hands, his thumb brushing small circles over my knuckles. His touch was gentle, but there was a flicker in his eyes I couldn't read...fury, protectiveness, something else.
The thought wormed its way back into my mind, slow and venomous: What if Damien isn't just my protector? What if he's something else entirely?
I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head to push it away.
But in the silence of the apartment, with the shards of my broken cup glinting like tiny daggers on the tile and my phone lying heavy in my palm, one truth sank deeper and deeper into my bones:
No matter where I went, no matter who I turned to, danger was already here.
Watching.
Waiting.
And closing in.